“That’s understandable.”
“I was terrified.” She took a breath. “Until Lilah.”
“Why her?”
“I don’t really remember all the reasons. I don’t even remember exactly when we met. I think maybe it was because she had the same look in her eyes I did. And one time, this boy who was older than both of us said something gross to me, something sexual, and she repeatedly punched him in the nuts. Punched him so hard he had to go to the hospital. When theytried to punish her, she told them she’d caught him trying to pull my pants down, and I lied and agreed. No one dared fuck with either of us after that, and they didn’t separate us because we started calling each other ‘sisters’.”
She tipped her head back to study my face. “She was the first person to ever stand upforme. That itfeltlike she did somethingtangibletoprotectme, you know?Beforesomething bad happened to me, not after the fact.”
“I think I understand.” I played with her hair, gently twining a few strands of the red locks around my finger.
“It was weird when I turned twenty-five and realized I was older than my mom ever got to be, and I can’t even remember what she looked like. I don’t have any pictures of her. My family started when I met Lilah.”
“Do you want me to not call you what we were talking about before?”
“That’s what’s so fucked up—Ido. I want it even more.” She went quiet again for a moment. “Part of me, since I was an adult,reallywanted this kind of relationship. But the Emmy who went to college and haphazardly contemplated what happened to childhood Emmy was sort of horrified by equating things that called to me, sexually, with a safe, healthy relationship when framed in the greater context of what happened to childhood Emmy.
“I realized that when I think of you as ‘Daddy,’ it’s more anidea. It’s… feelings.” She tipped her head back again, her green gaze searching mine. “It’ssafety. I remember wishing once in the worst days that I had a daddy and he was there to protect me. I used to fantasize about him showing up, taking me away, and taking care of me. The truth is my father, whoever he was, likely never knew she was pregnant. I never met any family. If I asked, she told me there weren’t any. I never bothered looking for any.”
“Sweetheart, I will call you whatever you want me to call you and give you whatever it’s within my power to do to make you feel safe.”
Emmy laced fingers with me, still staring into my eyes. “I want to beyours. Ineedto be yours. You can ask Lilah, that’s not something I’ve ever said to anyone before.Ever. You make me feel safe.Wanted. Everything just clicks into place now and that’s never happened to me before with anyone else. And you calling me your babygirl turns me gooey in my soul, not just my panties.”
She finally rewarded me with the hint of a smile. “But I also understand now what you meant about doing stuff that I want to do. The teacher said to think of the whole thing—kink or BDSM or whatever you want to call it—like a buffet. Pick what you want, load up your plate on your favorites, maybe try a bite here and there of stuff that you’re curious about but don’t want to commit to. And to never feel obligated to try something you think you won’t like. Or, never feel afraid to realize there’s something you thought you liked, or maybe used to like, that you realize you’re not fond of anymore. Or to keep trying certain things because you want to like them but need to get used to them. That we’re adults, and we are free to say ‘no’ to anything we want when it comes to this, and we don’t need to justify it. And we don’t need to justify wanting or enjoying the things we want to do.”
“That’s an excellent way of putting it.”
“I don’t want to be a full-time Little,” she added. “I know that for sure after what I learned. Still, sometimes I want to have guilt-free fun, where I don’t feel self-conscious. Like, I want little bites of it, just as snacks, but not for every meal. From what I learned in class, I really think I’m a submissive and just want to play with Little stuff sometimes. What do you think?”
“I am not going to tell you what to label yourself, sweetheart, except for one thing.”
Her brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
I nuzzled her nose. “Mine.” I slanted my lips over hers, the first true kiss we’d shared, and I took my time savoring it, my cock hardening when she reached up, cupped her hand around the back of my head, and fisted my hair to keep me from ending the kiss.
Oh, yeah.
We weredefinitelymissing the class.
Chapter Seven
Emmy
You know, I did a stint in psych wards during my internship. I even took a couple of courses in pre-med. I’ve had continuing education courses in trauma-informed care, although the past several years I’ve obviously focused on pediatric-centric care.
Physician, heal thyself.
I can’t even label what happened to me in class as a flashback as much as it was a god-like revelation. I wasn’t even aware I’d left the classroom until Jack magically appeared behind me, his soothing, calm, steady voice in my ear.
It terrified me how much I’d already come to trust him. He’d given me zero reasons to not trust him.
Terrified isn’t even adequate to describe the raw, visceral level of fear that revelation evoked in my soul.
Because other than Lilah—well, and the Franceses, but in a different way—I’d never… trusted.
Ever.
I’d never let anyone inside my shell before. Lilah didn’t even know about me what Jack now knew. Just like I didn’t know all her previous trauma. We’d never discussed the details,not needing to rip those wounds open to know we were both passengers on the same train.
