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“Hey, hey, it’s all right. It’s okay. I’m fine. Don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. You’re the one we’ve got to look after.”

“Me?” she cried. “I didn’t spend the night in a jail cell. I’m not the one who had false accusations made against them.”

“Gwen will handle that. Everything will be okay.”

“Will it?” she sobbed.

“Is there anything else worrying you?” he asked.

She shook her head.

He frowned down at her. “You would tell me if there was, though, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

But he noticed that she couldn’t meet his gaze. He thought about pressing her for more, but then she did something that surprised him. She slid her thumb into her mouth as she lay on his lap, staring up at him.

All right. Maybe he’d press her for more information later.

“Come on. You need a nap and some of that soup. Let’s get you into bed.” He carried her into the bedroom and set her down on the bed, and then he walked over to her dresser. “Which one has pajamas?”

“Don’t want pajamas. Don’t want a nap.” Her voice had a sulky tone to it, which was interesting.

Seemed her Little side was starting to reveal itself again.

And he was surprisingly pleased by that. He wanted to spend more time with her Little so he could figure out if he could do this Daddy stuff. Because last night in that jail cell he’d also decided he didn’t want to outsource anything.

The idea of anyone touching her who wasn’t him . . . yeah, it made him feel sick inside and he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from murdering the other person. And he knew all those other people, all those other Doms at the club, outsourced to him for punishment, but it seemed that he was just made of a different sort of material than they were.

No one was touching his girl. No one was hugging his girl. No one got to even look at his girl without his permission.

“Wouldn’t be very comfortable to sleep in your clothes,” he told her. “So, pajamas or one of my T-shirts?” Her eyes lit up when he said one of his T-shirts, so he knew what her answer was, even if she wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t give her the one he was wearing, of course. He’d get her a clean one. “Why don’t you go use the toilet and I’ll get you something to sleep in?”

She looked like she was about to protest, but then she just nodded.

Walking across the hallway into the bedroom, he quickly changed his own T-shirt and then grabbed one for her.

He’d have a shower once she was asleep. He headed back into the bedroom and handed the T-shirt to her. “Get changed into that and into bed. I’ll go get the soup.”

He left before he was tempted to undress her himself, because that’s what he really wanted to do. He wanted to strip her off, tuck her into the bed and feed her.

So maybe he did have some Daddy tendencies inside him that had been latent. Or maybe they just came out with her.

He wasn’t entirely sure, but he was done fighting it now.

Perhaps everything would come easier once he did that.

Grabbing a couple of large mugs, he poured out the soup, made some more toast, buttered it, and put everything on a large tray. Then he carried it into the bedroom. To his surprise, she was leaning against the headboard with her owl pressed against her and her thumb in her mouth. Kevin was still in his cage.

She stared at Ammo for a long moment, but s didn’t move her thumb from her mouth.

Walking over, he settled the tray on the bedside table, then sat on the bed and picked up one bowl of soup. Stirring it, he spooned some up and stared down at it. What if it was too hot? What if he gave it to her and it burned her?

What would Zander do? Probably try it himself first.

Damn, that was the first time he’d ever thought, ‘what would Zander do?’ Probably the last time he would think it as well.

Although Zander was a Daddy so perhaps there were a few things he could learn from him.