Chapter 12 #2
I wanted that. God, I wanted it so much it hurt in my chest.
Across the room, Walker hadn't moved. He was a dark, steady presence, arms folded, watching like his whole job was to keep the world from touching me.
I caught his eye for half a second and my whole body flushed hot.
I looked down again, scribbling pink flowers on the kittens' ears because I couldn't trust my voice not to shake.
Abby kept coloring, but after a while she wriggled onto her knees, bouncing a little.
"You wanna see the train?" she stage-whispered.
"It's so cool. They let you go around as many times as you want.
Last week, I went eight times, and Daddy only groaned a little bit.
" She peeked up at me, bangs falling in her eyes.
"Unless you wanna stay here and color more? "
I hesitated. The room was still loud, the colors still too bright, but with Abby there beside me, it felt less like being on display.
More like I could just…belong. Maybe if I just did what she did, I'd figure out how to be Little.
Maybe Walker would be proud. The thought made my cheeks burn all over again.
"Can we do both?" My voice came out tiny.
Abby beamed. "Yessss. See? That's how you do it. Littles always get to choose." She snatched her coloring page and mine, then led the way to the train with a hop-skip that made me giggle. I clutched Mr. Snuggles, careful not to trip with my fuzzy socks, and followed.
The play mat was soft under my feet. A volunteer waved us over and helped us climb onto the little seats, which totally fit because we were both so tiny. Walker came closer, arms still folded, and Abby waggled her fingers at him.
"Bye, Walker! We're going on an adventure!"
He gave her the tiniest smile, but his whole face changed when he looked at me. "Hold on tight, princess," he said, voice like velvet and thunder at once. My stomach swooped.
The train chugged off, slow and steady, and Abby started narrating a story about kittens who drove trains and ate cupcakes and battled with a dragon made of glitter. I laughed. I couldn't help it. The motion, the silliness, the way she made it sound like all of this belonged to me too—it was magic.
We went around twice before Abby declared she needed a snack or she might "starve very dramatically." I giggled so hard I snorted. Mr. Snuggles almost fell but I caught him just in time.
I glanced over at Walker and my body ached.
Not the sick, scary ache that meant I was crashing, but the hot, throbby kind that made it impossible to sit still.
I couldn’t focus on the coloring anymore.
Couldn’t even look at the train, or at Abby, who was already talking about what snack she should get next.
All I could think about was Walker. The way he’d looked at me, the weight of his hand on my arm, his voice deep and rough when he called me princess.
The way he’d watched me the whole time, not missing a single thing.
I needed him.
Needed him more than I’d ever needed anything, and that was saying something.
My thighs pressed together so tightly it almost hurt, but it didn’t help.
My skin felt too small, my chest too tight, and I could smell him over everything—the clean laundry, the faint sweat, the aftershave.
I was going to die if he didn’t touch me.
Abby barely glanced up when I stood, Mr. Snuggles under my arm and my coloring half-finished. She just grinned and shoved a cookie in her mouth, waving me off with sticky fingers. “Go be with your Daddy,” she said, crumbs everywhere. “I always want mine when I feel small.”
My legs wobbled as I crossed the playroom. Walker’s eyes tracked me the whole way, heavy and hot. He didn’t even pretend not to notice. He just waited, arms folded across his chest, legs braced wide. Like he was holding up the whole building with his body.
I nearly crashed into him as he opened his arms.
He caught me, both hands cupping my elbows to steady me. “Princess,” he murmured, voice pitched low so only I could hear. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. Couldn’t say it. Just pressed my face into his chest and clung, hoodie sleeves hiding my hands. His arms came around me instantly, one at my waist, the other at the back of my head. He smelled even better up close, like cedar and warmth, and I almost whimpered.
“I want to go home,” I whispered, so soft I barely heard it.
He tipped my chin up. “Why?” Just one word, but it dropped straight into my stomach.
I couldn’t answer. My cheeks burned. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to melt into him, wanted him to…God, I didn’t even know. I just knew I needed something…him.
He must have seen it in my face, because his grip tightened. His expression changed, eyes going darker and hungrier. “Are you feeling okay?” he pressed, still careful, but there was a tension in his jaw that made my insides clench.
“I feel fine,” I managed, breath shuddering out of me. “I just…I want…” My voice caught. I couldn’t say the words. I was too scared he’d laugh, or worse, say no.
He leaned closer, so close his breath touched my ear, and whispered, “You want Daddy to take care of you?”
My knees almost buckled. I nodded frantically, not trusting my voice. My hands fisted in his t-shirt, wringing the fabric until my knuckles ached. “Please.” My voice barely made it out. “Can we go?”
He didn’t even hesitate. Just wrapped both arms around me and carried me out of the playroom, swiping up my sneakers as he passed, body pressed to mine like he was worried I’d float away if he let go.
I caught a glimpse of Abby waving, braids all over the place, mouth full of cookie.
“Bye, Lottie! Bye, Walker!” she yelled, and then the door closed and it was quiet in the corridor.
We made it to the car. I didn’t remember getting there, just the sudden, jarring silence of the parking lot and the way his hand gripped the back of my neck, not hard, just…there. I shivered. I couldn’t stop shivering. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire.
He buckled me in, then knelt down and pushed my sneakers on, looking at me when we were face to face. “You need Daddy to take care of you, huh?” The way he said it, the roughness in his voice, went straight between my legs. I nodded, desperate.
He shut the door, got in the driver’s side, and the whole time he drove I watched his hands on the steering wheel, big and steady and in control. I wanted them on me.
He drove fast. Not reckless, but decisive, like we both might die if he didn’t get me home right now.
I pressed my knees together, dying, actually dying, because he wouldn’t even look at me, but I could see his jaw clench, the muscle ticking under his skin.
The car was full of his scent. I breathed it in, dizzy.
He pulled in the driveway, killed the engine, and just stared ahead for a second. I could see how tightly he was wound. “Inside, now,” he growled. The sound of his voice made my whole body clench.
I scrambled out of the car before I could think better of it. He was suddenly right there, one hand on my wrist, dragging me up the walkway and into the house. As soon as the door shut behind us, I spun to face him. My cheeks were so hot I could barely breathe.
“Walker, please,” I begged, and I didn’t even know what I was asking for. I just needed.
He bent, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look at him. “What do you need, princess?” His voice was so deep it shook something loose in my chest.
I tried to talk, but the words were gone.
He didn’t need them. “You know what you want. Tell Daddy what you need.”
Something in my head snapped. “I want you to touch me.” It sounded wild, desperate, but I couldn’t help it. “I want to be yours.”
He shuddered, then scooped me up like I weighed nothing, arms strong and hard around my body.
He carried me straight up the stairs, my face pressed into his neck, his skin hot and damp.
I clung to him, legs around his waist, hugging Mr. Snuggles in a death grip.
He didn’t even laugh. Just kept walking.
He sat me on the edge of his bed, hands braced on either side of my knees, face close enough that I could see every fleck of gold in his eyes.
“Listen to me.” His voice was pure command, but quiet. “I want you. I want this. But you never, ever, have to do anything because you think it’s what keeps you safe, or because you think you owe me. That will never be how this works.”
I could barely breathe. I wanted him so much it hurt, but the way he said it—that he’d still be here, still take care of me, no matter what—that did something to my insides that was almost worse than being needy for him.
“I know,” I whispered. My voice was wobbly but true. “I just…I don’t want to mess it up.”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “The only way you mess it up is by not telling me what you need.” He took both my hands.
“We go at your pace, always. If anything is too much, you say stop or you say red. That’s your safe word.
Red and I stop immediately. No questions, no disappointment, nothing. Are we clear?”
“Red,” I echoed, licking my lips. “Okay. I can do that.”
He let go and thumbed my cheek, softer than I thought someone like him could be. “You can. And there’s more. If you change your mind, at any point, about anything—you tell me.”
It was everything I’d ever wanted to hear. No one had ever asked what I wanted and meant it. Not once.
I nodded. Couldn’t say anything else.
“Tell me what you need, princess.”
I couldn’t look away. It felt like falling, but not in a scary way. I clutched Mr. Snuggles to my chest and said, “I want…I want to be yours. I want you to take care of me.” My face was on fire, but I didn’t care. “I want you to touch me everywhere.”
His breath came out rough, like I’d punched him. “Come here.” He took the stuffie and set him gently on the pillow, then hauled me up and into his arms.