Mace holds it up to my face, which unlocks the screen. He’s clever. Without a word, he starts tapping so fast that I can barely follow what he’s doing. I shouldn’t be shocked. He’s a computer geek. Of course, he’s a whizz with a cellphone.
My e-reader app is on the home screen, but my nosey Dom doesn’t go there first. He opens my browser and flips through my tabs. What’s he looking for?
I cringe when the last porn video I watched opens. “How did you do that?”
He chuckles. “I’m an electronic geek, sweetheart. Never underestimate me on that.”
I bite my lip and sit very still while he watches a few seconds of my latest selection before switching to another one and another. I think he somehow scrolls through my search history. He isn’t hiding his curiosity. I’m sitting right here, watching him explore my life in tabs.
With my arms curled up against my chest, I rest my fists under my chin and wait.
Eventually, he minimizes my browser and taps on my e-reader app logo. He closes the book I was in the middle of reading and starts scrolling through everything on my device.
I hold my breath. If he wasn’t sure about my kinky side before, he is now. The question is, do we match? It seems likely, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.
Who am I kidding? I’m going to die on the spot if he thinks my kink is too weird for him.
Mace says nothing as he slowly swipes his finger over the screen until he’s seen the covers of dozens of my books. Not just any books, but everything I’ve read lately.
When he’s done, he closes my phone, sets it on the wide arm of the chair, and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m freaking the fuck out, Mace,” I blurt. It’s the truth.
He kisses my temple and brushes my hair away from my face. “No need to panic, Baby girl. And if you cuss like that again, you’ll find yourself standing in the corner with your nose to the wall.”
I gasp.
He rubs my back, rocking me gently.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
It’s right here. The elephant. Suffocating me. I can’t breathe. I wonder if I’m actually still in a deep sleep on Mace’s bed. Maybe none of this is real—the juice boxes, the mac and cheese, the picking my brain…
After a long silence, he gently asks, “How long have you known you’re Little?”
I blow out a breath.
Finally.
That one word.
It’s out there now. It’s floating in the air between us. He said it. He knows what it means to be Little.
And he’s not cringing or judging me.
I shrug against him, not meeting his gaze, keeping my cheek pressed against his neck. “I don’t know,” I murmur. “Sometime after I met you.”
He rubs my back. “Have you ever talked to anyone about this, Baby girl?”
“Fuck, no.” I wince at my profanity. It’s been ten seconds since he threatened me with a timeout.
He chuckles. “You like corners.”
I shake my head. “It just slipped out.”
“I don’t think naughty words are going to slip out of your mouth much longer, sweetheart.”
I bite my lip again. It’s sore from doing so as often as I have today. But it grounds me.
