Travis seems to sense it, his eyes flicking to me as he tosses his keys on the counter.
“How about a bath, Little?” he says, his voice low, that Daddy growl softened by a playful edge. “You’ve had a big day. Let’s wash it off.”
My heart skips, a giggle bubbling up.
“A bath? With you?” I ask, my cheeks flushing at the thought.
It’s intimate, different from the playroom’s heat, but the idea of being close to him, surrounded by warmth, makes my whole body tingle.
Travis grins, that rare, boyish smile that makes my knees weak.
“Yeah,of coursewith me. Who else? Channing Tatum?” Travis chuckles. “Come on.”
Travis leads me to the bathroom, the same sleek space where I caught him stepping out of the shower days ago. He pours in bubble bath—lavender and vanilla—and tosses in a handful of rubber ducks and toy boats from a basket under the sink.
The sight of them, bobbing in the growing sea of bubbles, makes me laugh, my Little side sparkling to life.
“Get comfy,” Travis says, nodding at my clothes.
I slip out of my jeans and shirt and he does the same, stripping down to his boxers. His body—broad, muscled, all hard lines and quiet strength—makes my breath catch, but it’s the way he looks at me, soft and protective, that has my heart racing.
Soon enough we’re both naked and ready to relax.
We climb into the tub, the water warm and enveloping, bubbles piling high around us. I sink in, a rubber duck bumping my knee, and Travis settles across from me, his legs brushing mine under the water.
We start playing, splashing water at each other, my giggles echoing off the tiles. I grab a toy boat, making it “sail” through the bubbles, and Travis counters with a duck, quacking dramatically as he chases my boat.
“You’re gonna lose, Little,” Travis teases, flicking water at me.
“No way, Daddy!” I fire back, splashing him hard, bubbles flying. The word slips out so naturally—Daddy—and it feels right, like it’s always been his name.
Travis pauses, his eyes softening, and I seize the moment, my heart pounding.
“Travis… can I call you Daddy whenever I want now?” I ask. “Like, all the time?”
He leans back, water dripping from his arms, and for a second, I think I’ve pushed too far. But then he smiles, slow and warm, and reaches for my hand under the water.
“Yeah, my darling Little,” Travis answers. “You can call me Daddy whenever you want. Always.”
My chest feels like it’s bursting, joy and warmth flooding me.
I squeeze his hand, bubbles popping between us, and in this moment, surrounded by rubber ducks and toy boats, I can’t help but feel it—this could beForever.
Him, me, this connection that’s grown through danger and spankings—both serious and fun—and an ever growing list of steamy moments.
Travis’s my Daddy, my protector, the man who sees all of me—lawyer, Little, everything—and doesn’t flinch.
I want this, him, us, for keeps, and the thought makes my heart sing even as the weight of the flash drive, the cartel, the threat, lingers in the back of my mind.
We play a little longer, splashing and laughing, the water cooling around us.
Travis pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me, and I rest my head against his chest, the steady thump of his heart grounding me.
“You’re safe with me, Little Lawyer,” Travis murmurs, his lips brushing my forehead. “And that’s on Guard’s Honor.”
I used to think the Night Ops Guard were the bad guys.
Not anymore.
