"Thank you, Daddy."
"You're welcome, baby girl." He glances at the clock. "It's getting late. You should probably head home."
"What if I don't want to go home?"
"I need to be very clear about something. This relationship” he motions between us, “it isn’t casual for me. You're not just someone I'm sleeping with. You're mine. My girl. My Little. And I take that seriously."
"I want to be yours. Fully yours."
"Then you are. From this moment on. Mine to care for. Mine to protect. Mine to love." His hand cups my face. "And I'm yours. Your Daddy. Your partner. Your person. Do you understand what that means?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Say it. Tell me what it means."
"It means we're together. Really together. It means you'll take care of me and I'll trust you to do it. It means I'm not alone anymore."
"Exactly. And it means that when I set rules, you follow them. When I correct you, you accept it. When I tell you you're loved, you believe it." His thumb brushes across my lower lip. "Can you do that?"
"Yes, Daddy. I can do that."
"Good girl." He stands, pulling me with him. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."
"Our bed?"
His smile is slow and warm. "Our bed."
I climb into his bed and he heads into the bathroom. He joins me a few minutes later, pulling me against his chest.
"Comfortable?" he asks.
"Very."
"Good." His hand strokes my hair. "Sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow's a big day."
"Why?"
"Because you're implementing your new prices. And I'm going to be there to support you."
"You don't have to?—"
"I want to. I told you—I'm not going anywhere. That includes being there for the scary stuff."
I burrow closer to him. "I love you."
"I love you too, baby girl. So damn much."
CHAPTER 8
Two weeks slide by in a blur of coffee shop mornings and evenings wrapped in Tyler's arms. It turns out implementing the price increases wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. Only a few people noticed but everyone was incredibly supportive of the changes. It was such a relief. With the profits I’m already seeing, I’m confident I can get ahead on my bills for once.
I've stayed at Tyler’s place more nights than my own. My toothbrush has a permanent spot in his bathroom. Half my closet has migrated to his spare dresser drawer.
We’ve had a lot of sex. But even more intimate than the sex? The make-out sessions that leave us both breathless and aching. His hands exploring under my shirt. My fingers tracing the muscles of his back. He can turn working out or making a meal into the most intimate experience.
The dynamic between us has settled into something comfortable. Natural. Tyler sets rules, I follow them (mostly), and we check in constantly about how we're both feeling.
The girls in book club are thrilled.
