Chapter 17
Seventeen
Blade
I don’t play fair. I know exactly which packages I want her to open first.
After we place a grocery order, I settle her on the couch, pretend to randomly choose a few packages, and sit next to her.
She’s leery, but she’s also struggling to contain her excitement. I suspect it’s been a while since someone bought her anything. This room is filled with boxes. Plus, more are coming this afternoon, and even more tomorrow. I don’t tell her that, though.
I can’t be sure how she’s going to react to any of this, so I’m holding my breath while she opens the first package. She pulls out three nighties. There are even more around here somewhere. I figured she would need to rest a lot for the next few weeks, so nighties were a priority.
Daytime priority. I’m going to hold her naked at night. I meant that. But when she naps, she can wear comfy nighties.
She lifts the first one so she can see it. Her breath hitches while I say a silent prayer in my head. I won’t force anything on her. Not ever. There’s no way to be sure what age range she might enjoy, but I have my suspicions.
I watch her expression while she stares at the pastel-blue nightie. Finally, she glances at me. Her eyes are watery, and her lip trembles. I think this is a good sign, but if everything she opens makes her cry, the apartment is going to flood.
“You were serious about wanting me to be your Little girl,” she whispers.
“Yes, honey. Did you think I made all that up?”
She glances at the dozens of packages and boxes. “Is all of this for age play?”
“Yes.” She’s got me hanging by the balls here.
She looks back at the nightgown and then brings it to her face, closes her eyes, and rubs her cheek with the cotton material. “I’ve never had a princess nightie,” she whispers.
My heart stops. That hadn’t occurred to me.
“I don’t even know the names of princesses.” She leans into me, sniffling.
I lift her off the couch and settle her across my lap. Emotions well up inside me. “I think that one is called Elsa, but I don’t know many. We’ll have to learn them together.” I kiss the top of her head.
She slumps deeper into me. “They make all this stuff for adults?”
“Yes. Age play is a growing kink. The more people get over the unnecessary stigma, the more they join in. It’s a huge industry. You can get anything imaginable sized for an adult nowadays.”
She grips the material close to her heart. “I don’t know what to say.”
I lift the second package I brought over and set it on her lap. I feel significantly more confident about it now. “How about you open this one, and then we’ll get you down for a nap.”
She won’t release the nightgown, so she hands me the package. “You open it for me.” It’s hard for her to get a good grip with her right hand, and it probably hurts.
I take it and tear off the top before reaching in and pulling out a fluffy stuffed bear. I deliberated over this guy for longer than necessary before I bought him. I don’t want her to feel like I’m replacing Tedbear. But maybe she has room in her heart for two bears.
She stares at him for a long time before dropping the nightie into her lap and clasping onto him, bringing him to her cheek. “He’s so soft.” A sob escapes her, and she wraps her arm around me. “You’re going to make me cry all the time.”
I rub her back. “Is he okay? I thought you might like a new friend to sleep with. Tedbear is pretty tattered and fragile. Maybe he needs a place on a shelf somewhere so he doesn’t deteriorate further.”
She nods against me. “He’s one of the few things I kept and never showed Pete.
Luckily that asshole never found him in my things.
He might have burned him or something just to spite me.
I pulled him back out after I got my own apartment, but mostly, I just settled him on the spare pillow so I wouldn’t hurt him any further. ”
Relief fills me. “So this new guy is gonna stay?”
She nods. “I love him.”
I stand, lifting her in my arms and carrying her down the hall to our bedroom. She holds the nightie and bear, and she doesn’t argue when I stand her on her feet in the bathroom, strip her down to her panties, and pull the nightgown over her head. It fits perfectly.
I set the bear on the counter and guide her to the toilet, and she still says nothing when I pull her panties down and lift her onto the potty. Nor when she pees. Nor when I wipe her and pull her panties back up.
She’s precious and so fucking Little.
In minutes, I have her tucked under the covers with the bear clutched in her arms. I sit next to her and stroke her hair away from her forehead. “You’ll have to think of a name for that guy.”
“Mmm.” She holds him up. “Brownie.”
I turn him toward me and look him in the eyes. “What do you think? Is Brownie a good name?” I pull him closer to my ear, pretend to listen, and then smile. “He likes it.”
June giggles as she snatches him back and rolls onto her side. “I don’t remember when I last had a nap.”
“Well, now you can start a new habit. You’ll feel so much better if you nap after lunch.” We only had smoothies today, but I suspect she got more calories in that smoothie than she normally has for lunch. I’m personally going to make myself a huge sandwich as soon as she’s asleep.
She grabs my hand and holds it tight. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Little one.” I kiss her temple. “Rest. I’ll come check on you in a while.” I stroke her hair for a few minutes until she falls asleep, and it’s downright painful for me to leave her.
But I need to check-in with my team, and my stomach is growling. I need food. Man can’t live on smoothies, even if Little girls can.
After making a giant sandwich, I grab the plate and head to my office. The bedroom door is open so I can hear June if she needs me, but I don’t want to wake her with my phone calls, so I decide to hunt for the baby monitor I purchased.
Five minutes later, I quietly set the monitor on the nightstand. My girl hasn’t moved a muscle. She’s dead to the world. It’s hard to walk away again. I’d rather watch her sleep.
When I leave the room, I pull the door almost closed and return to my office.
I’m sure there are dozens of things that need my attention, but I also know my team can manage things without me.
By now, everyone in the office will be aware that June is in my life, even if they don’t know the entire story.
I touch base with Rachell, who’s got June an appointment with Dr. Starion for next week. Next, I call Mace.
He picks up quickly. “Hey, how’s June?”
“Doing well. We saw the ortho this morning. She’s relieved she gets to have a soft cast.”
“That’s good.”
I appreciate the fact that my guys care about her already. Several of my team have Little girls of their own, so I know they understand that my life will be consumed with her for a while as we navigate our relationship and dynamic.
It’s curious that so many of us are Daddy Doms. Maybe it’s not a coincidence. Perhaps we put off a vibe that draws us together in like-mindedness. It’s possible I sense the nurturing side in candidates when I interview them.
We are all tough as nails. We’ve all been in the military at some point. We’ve seen combat. We still see it here. And we don’t let anyone fuck with our own. When business needs taking care of, we get shit done.
I fear this situation with June might need serious intervention. I won’t have her living in fear or under any sort of threat. If her ex is the one fucking with her, he’s in for a surprise for thinking he can get away with it.
Mace continues, “I assume you’d like an update on Pete Stark.”
“Yes.”
“A few of the guys set up surveillance cameras on his house. Curious development. It would seem the woman we first saw has been evicted. He brought a trash bag out to his truck, tossed it in the back, and then manhandled her into the passenger seat. Sped off and returned two hours later without the woman or the bag. Gotta assume the black bag was her possessions.”
“Any idea where he took her?” My skin crawls. What did you do with her, you fucker?
“Yep. Dropped her at a bus station. I found them both on security cameras. Looks like he bought her a ticket out of town and left her.”
I run a hand over my face. At least he didn’t kill her and dump the body. I wonder how many women he’s rotated in and out of that house in the past three years.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mace adds.
“Yeah. Now that he’s found his long-lost wife, he’s planning to drag her home, and he needed to clean house.”
“Yep. I’ve got eyes on him. He must be working in construction. Guessing he took the morning off to deal with his latest victim. He changed clothes and took off again at about noon. Khakis, orange vest, hardhat.”
I inhale deeply. “See if you can figure out where he’s working.”
“On it.” Mace ends the call.
My skin is crawling, and my jaw is so tight I’m going to end up with a headache.
There’s no way that fucker is going to get to June.
She’s safe here. No one can get in. But I hate her living in fear, and she’s not going to be able to leave the apartment alone until I’m certain the threat to her is eliminated.
The fact that Stark ditched the other woman is a sign that he intends to drag his wayward wife back into the fold, but that doesn’t mean he won’t beat the hell out of her or even kill her, given the opportunity.
There’s nothing else I can do right this second, so I deal with my accumulating emails and pass everything off I can to my men.
I’m just finishing when the groceries are delivered, so I meet someone from the lobby at the elevator and haul everything into the kitchen.
I’m not surprised June is still sleeping.
She needs her rest. She’s been dealing with nonstop stress, numerous bruises and lacerations, and a broken arm for a few days.