Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Aw, we’re twinsies.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I was a wreck when I first got out of the Army. Drinking, fucking around, being self-destructive.”
“Do you not like to talk about it?”
“I’ll talk about anything with you, baby.”
Kenzie leans over to kiss my arm, a small smile on her face. Then her expression sobers, like she’s just had a troubling thought.
“In that vein,” she says. “Jill and I talked about one more thing today.”
“Oh yeah?”
She pulls at a stray feather on the side of the box. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my nightmares. How they always play out the same way.”
“You mean being chased through the woods?”
She nods. “I’ve noticed a few differences recently. The past couple of times haven’t been as scary. I mean, they were scary, but they were also...”
“Also what?”
“They were exciting. Arousing.”
“That’s a good shift, isn’t it?”
“It is. Jill and I have been going over what daddy kink means to me. How getting into little space lets me go back to a time before...”
She doesn't need to say it; a time before she had to use sex as currency.
My jaw tightens.
“That’s a lot to unpack in two therapy sessions,” I say.
“It’s been long overdue. And Jill’s really good at helping me get to the heart of my thoughts. Anyway, she says rewriting memories of traumatic events can be affirming, whether you do it in your head or in real life.”
“Makes sense.” I can tell she’s working up to something, but I can’t imagine what.
“I was thinking we could try a new game. One that might help me rewrite my nightmares. Like a role-play.”
It takes my brain a few seconds to make the necessary jumps.
“You want to do a roleplay of your nightmare? Are you sure you’re up for that?”
“No, but I think it might be one of those situations where I won’t know if I can handle it until I try.”
“That sounds risky, Kenz.”
“It’s all risky. I could just as easily think I’m ready and then realize halfway through that I was wrong.”
I sigh heavily. “I don’t know, baby.”
“We already role-play as Daddy and baby girl.”
“That’s different. Playing a dirtier version of Red Light Green Light is one thing. Asking me to play the guy who tried to murder you feels like something else.”
“You wouldn’t be playing him. You’d be Daddy. The whole point is to recreate the scenario with someone I actually want to be with.”
“You want me to chase you through the woods?”
She rests her hand on my thigh.
“I want you to catch me.”
My cock likes the sound of that, but the rest of me isn’t convinced. I keep my gaze aimed forward as I carefully consider her request.
The last thing I ever want to do is accidentally traumatize McKenzie in the name of trying to help her heal. But what she said about rewriting her nightmares does have merit. Prolonged Exposure therapy is a legitimate treatment for PTSD. If Kenzie’s mind is stuck on this particular memory, like tires in a deep groove, maybe going off-road is the answer.
“The only way we could do it is if we talked through the scenario—I mean the whole scenario—first.”
“Agreed,” she says.
“You couldn’t be shy about what you do and don’t want to happen. You’d have to tell me, specifically, how you want the scene to play out. I won’t take liberties with your safety.”
“I know. I trust you, Daddy.”
Her entreating gaze coupled with the word Daddy makes me burn for her.
“You would need a safe word. Do you remember your safe word?”
“Yes. Red light. I remember.” She slides her hand further up my thigh ‘til the side of her palm meets my bulge.
Setting aside the myriad risks for one brief second, I’ll admit the thought of hunting my girl and then claiming her under the stars is enticing.
I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll think about it.”
14
mckenzie
The glass of ice water sweats in my hand as I raise it to my lips. Cold flows down my throat, sending a pleasant chill throughout my entire body.
I’m equal parts nervous and excited for the game we’re about to begin. It took a few days and many detailed conversations, but Austin finally gave in. And saying yes seemed to lower his inhibitions to the point where he could allow himself to feel anticipation alongside concern.
But before we can play, I have to drink every drop of water in this glass, and then bring the glass to the sink. That’s how I signal I’m ready for what comes next.
Am I ready? I desperately want to be, though I’m not sure whether that qualifies as a yes. So I sip my water rather than gulp it, taking a moment to study Austin’s broad, bare back and tapered waist. His black track pants sit deliciously low on his hips. He wouldn’t normally wear his running shoes inside, but tonight isn’t a normal night.