Chapter 4 #2
Emily: More importantly, are you going to let him take care of you?
Chloe: I'm going to try. He's very... insistent.
Madison: That's the Daddy Dom coming out. Ty's the same way. He literally makes me text him when I eat lunch.
Lily: Ethan tracks my water intake. I thought it was overbearing at first, but now I love it.
Holly: It's not overbearing when it comes from a place of care. That's the whole point of the dynamic.
Emily: Just remember—you're still in control even when you're surrendering control. If something doesn't feel right, you speak up.
Chloe: I will. Promise.
Maya: I want updates! All the updates!
Amber: Same. This is better than Netflix.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur of customers. By the time two o'clock rolls around, I'm a bundle of nerves.
Jess practically shoves me out the door. "Go. Have fun. Let the hot soldier feed you and take care of you."
"What if I mess this up?"
"You won't. Just be yourself. That's who he wants." She grins. "Now get out of here before I lock you out."
I drive home, shower, and change into soft leggings and an oversized sweater. Comfortable but cute. Then I carefully pack Mochi into her carrier along with her food, toys, and bed.
"We're going to see Tyler," I tell her. "Be good, okay?”
She mews at me like she understands.
At exactly 2:30, Tyler's truck pulls up outside my building.
I grab Mochi's carrier and the container of chocolate chip cookies I baked this morning, then head downstairs.
Tyler meets me halfway, taking the carrier and the cookies without a word.
"You didn't have to come up," I say.
"I wanted to. Can't have you carrying all this yourself."
He opens the passenger door, making sure I'm settled before putting Mochi's carrier in the back seat where she can see me.
The drive to his place is super quick. He lives in a newer apartment complex a block away, and his unit is on the third floor.
"Fair warning," he says as he unlocks the door. "It's pretty bare bones. I haven't exactly decorated."
That's an understatement.
The apartment is clean and organized but sparse. He has a comfortable looking couch, large TV and a coffee table. Everything in shades of gray and navy. Not a lot of decorations or pillows. I immediately make a checklist of items to bring next time.
"It's nice," I say diplomatically.
"It's boring. I know." He sets Mochi's carrier on the floor. "But it's functional. And the important stuff works. I have a kitchen, bathroom, and an extremely comfortable bed. Depending on my optempo I’m not here a lot.”
He guides me to the couch. "Sit. I'll get Mochi set up and then make us lunch."
"I can help—"
"Nope. Today you rest. That's an order."
The firmness in his voice makes something low in my belly tighten. Why am I turned on when he gives me commands?
"An order?"
"That's right. You're going to sit on this couch, relax, and let me take care of you. Understood?"
"What if I don't want to sit?"
His eyes darken. "Then we'll have a conversation about following Daddy's instructions. Is that what you want?"
Oh God. We're doing this. We're actually doing this.
"No," I whisper.
"No, what?"
My breath catches. "No... Daddy."
The word feels foreign on my tongue but also right. So right.
His expression softens. "Good girl. Now sit. I'll be right back."
I sink onto the couch, my heart racing. Did I really just call him Daddy? Out loud? In his apartment?
He returns a few minutes later, Mochi’s temporary litter box settled in the bathroom.
"She's already exploring," he reports. "Brave little thing."
"Like her mama," I say without thinking.
Tyler's smile is devastating. "Exactly like her mama."
He disappears into the kitchen, and I can hear him moving around. Pans clanking. The refrigerator opening and closing.
"What are you making?" I call.
"Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Comfort food."
My chest warms. "That sounds perfect."
"I remember you mentioning you like simple food. Not fancy. Just good and warm and filling."
"When did I say that?"
"Three weeks ago. You were talking to a customer about your favorite meals growing up."
"You remember that?"
"I told you. I pay attention."
While he cooks, I look around the apartment. There are a few photos on the mantle. Tyler with two kids who must be Emma and Jackson. Tyler with a group of men, I assume his special forces team. An older photo of him with a woman who has his eyes.
"That's my mom," Tyler says, appearing with two plates. “I wish she was still here.”
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. She would have liked you." He hands me a plate with a perfectly grilled sandwich cut diagonally and a bowl of soup. "She always said I needed someone who could make me smile more."
"Do I make you smile?"
"Every single time I see you."
We eat in comfortable silence, and he's right, the food is simple but delicious. Warm and comforting and exactly what I needed. I dunk my grilled cheese into my soup and take a big bite and moan in pleasure.
"Better?" he asks when I finish.
"Much better. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He takes our dishes to the kitchen, then returns with the container of cookies I brought. "Now, are we going to talk about these? Because they smell incredible."
"Chocolate chip. It’s my grandma's recipe. There’s three types of chocolate in them."
He takes a bite and actually groans. "These are dangerous. I could eat the entire container."
"I made them for you. So that's allowed."
"For me?"
"To thank you for everything."
He sets down the cookie and pulls me into his arms. "You don't have to thank me for treating you the way you deserve to be treated."
"Not everyone does."
"Then everyone else is an idiot." He tilts my chin up.
"You deserve someone who sees how special you are.
I want to take care of you and make sure you eat real meals and get enough rest and tell you how you're appreciated.
It brings me pleasure to do these things, sweetheart.
" He takes the plates into the kitchen and returns with two large cups of milk.
“Can’t have cookies without milk. Now, we're going to watch a movie.
Something light and fun. And you're going to actually relax.
No thinking about the shop or responsibilities or anything else. Just be here with me. Can you do that?"
"I'll try."
"Good girl." He guides me over, sits next to me and I curl up against his side.
He puts on Moana, and I must make a sound because he looks down at me.
"What?"
"Nothing. I just... I love this movie."
"Emma told me it's the best Disney movie ever made. I figured you'd agree."
"Your daughter has excellent taste."
"She does. And she'd like you." His arm tightens around me. "They both would."
The casual mention of his kids meeting me makes my heart skip. "You think?"
"I know. Emma would love that you own a coffee shop. Jackson would love that you rescued a kitten." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "But that's down the road. First, we're going to figure out us."
"What does figuring out us look like?"
"Talking. Spending time together. Learning what works for both of us in this dynamic." His hand traces patterns on my arm. "I want to set some ground rules. Things that will help you take better care of yourself."
My pulse quickens. "Like what?"
"Like making sure you eat three real meals a day. Not just living off sugary pastries and coffee."
"Okay."
"Like closing the shop on time. No staying late to do extra work that can wait until tomorrow."
"That's harder. Sometimes things come up—"
"Then you text me and we talk about whether it's actually urgent or if you're using work to avoid resting."
I don't have a response to that because he's right. I do use work as an excuse.
"And," he continues, his voice going deeper, "you'll check in with me every day. Let me know how you're doing. If you're stressed or overwhelmed or just need someone to talk to."
"What if I forget?"
"Then I'll remind you. Gently at first. But Chloe—" He tilts my face up to look at him. "If you consistently ignore the rules we set, there will be consequences. That's how this dynamic works."
"What kind of consequences?"
"That depends on what you need. Some Littles respond to loss of privileges. Others need something more... physical. To help them process and reset."
My mouth goes dry. "Physical like...?"
"Like a spanking. But we'd talk about that first. Establish boundaries. Make sure it's something you actually want and need, not something I'm imposing on you."
The word spanking hangs in the air between us. I imagine him pulling me over his strong thighs and spanking my bare ass and I swear, my nipples tighten and my underwear dampens. The idea turns me on and frightens me at the same time.
"Have you ever been spanked?" he asks gently. "As an adult, I mean. In a dynamic."
"No. I've read about it. Fantasized about it. But never actually—"
"Would you want to? Explore that?"
"Maybe. It sounds scary." Scary and wonderful all at once.
"It can be. But it can also be cathartic. A way to let go of guilt or stress or anxiety." His hand cups my face. "But only if it's something you choose. Something you consent to. I would never force that on you."
"What if I don't like it?"
"Then we stop. Immediately. And we try something else." His eyes are steady on mine. "This only works if we're both getting what we need. If something doesn't feel right, you tell me. That's the most important rule of all."
"Okay."
"Promise me, Chloe. Promise you'll use your safe words. That you'll speak up if I push too hard or cross a line."
"I promise."
"Good girl." He pulls me back against his chest. "Now watch the movie. We'll talk more about rules and boundaries later. Right now, I just want to hold you."
I settle against him, and we watch Moana. His hand strokes my hair, and the gentle rhythm is hypnotic.
My eyelids start to droop.
"Go ahead," Tyler murmurs. "Take a nap. I've got you."
"But the movie—"