Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“You better listen to me good, girl. Because I hear that shit from your mouth again, I will not be happy.”
Whoa.
That was a really stern tone.
“Look at me and you listen to me, Greer Savage. What is your middle name?”
“I don’t think I want to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to be three-named. That’s not fair.”
“Fine, you listen to me, Greer Troublemaker Savage.”
How dare he? She felt so called out.
“You did not ruin Aidan’s life.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Yes, I am right,” he said firmly, his hand grasping hold of her chin.
“No, you’re not. He spent years of his life in jail. Because of me!”
“No, because of that fucking prick who raped you. That’s the reason he went to jail.”
“I shouldn’t have called him that night,” she whispered. “I should never have told him what happened. Then he wouldn’t have hurt Matthew, and he wouldn’t have gone to jail.”
“Baby, no. Is that what you think Sav would have wanted?”
“Why wouldn’t he? Then he wouldn’t have spent years in jail.”
“No. He’d never want you to have suffered in silence. I know that for sure. And it isn’t good to feel like you have to hide the bad things that happen to you. You can’t bottle stuff up. That’s when it explodes out in other ways.”
She knew that better than most.
“And who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t called Sav? Jorgen could have hurt you again. Killed you. Do you think Sav would have wanted that?”
“No,” she whispered. She guessed she hadn’t thought of that.
“Of course not. Baby girl, you cannot blame yourself for others’ actions. Sav was furious because his baby sister had been raped and beaten . . . how upset do you think he would be to learn you’ve been blaming yourself all these years for him going to jail?”
“I know he wouldn’t like it. That he doesn’t blame me. But I . . . that doesn’t stop me feeling guilty.”
“Oh, Ladybug. That’s no way to live.”
“I think we’ve established that I haven’t really been living all these years.”
“And what a waste that is. Because you deserve to be happy, maybe more than anyone else.”
She wasn’t sure she believed that. But his words were starting to penetrate that hurt place inside her. Wrapping it up in some of that protection and safety that only he seemed able to give her.
“I want you to be happy, baby girl. Do you think you could be with me?”
“I’m happy whenever I’m with you.”
“You are?”
“It probably wasn’t too obvious because I keep having panic attacks or climbing you like a tree . . . but I’ve felt happier and safer with you than I have in . . . well . . . probably since my dad was alive.”
“So I make you happy, I make you feel safe, and I’m pretty sure you’re attracted to me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a Little and I’m a Daddy Dom. I feel the same about you. I think you’re beautiful, brave, smart, and kind. Bit of a brat, but I can spank that out of you.”
“Hack!”
“Joking. I like your brat side. I want to spank you, though. A lot.”
“There are other things I can’t do . . .”
“Then they go on your limits list,” he said simply. “Whatever you can’t do, then we won’t do. Or if you want to then we work toward you being comfortable doing them. Including sex.”
She stared at him wide-eyed. “Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.”
What . . . how . . . he couldn’t just say that! He was nuts.
“You can’t just agree to that.”
“Seems like I can and I just did. Now, you need to eat something.”
“Whoa, buddy. Not happening.” She smacked her good hand down, wincing as she hit the plate and some of the sandwiches went flying. “Oops sorry.”
“Give me your hand.”
She held out the hand that she’d slammed into the plate so he could examine it.
“You need to be more careful.”
“Does this mean I get more treasure?” Hmmm.
“No. And I might have to cut down on your treasure.”
“That’s not fair. Although, I guess I didn’t actually hurt myself.”
“You winced.”
“Because some grilled cheese went flying. Sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that. It’s just . . .” She breathed out a sigh. “Strong emotions.”
“Right. Maybe we need to come up with a way that you can get those out without harming yourself, yeah?”
“I suppose so. But how?”
“What about a word? Something that will tell me everything is bubbling inside you and you need a way to get it all out. If you say that word, I’ll know you’re close to the edge and try to help.”
“I . . . guess that might work. Like a safeword but for my emotions?”
“Yes, I’ll stop doing everything else and listen to you. Maybe there are coping mechanisms I can help you with . . . like holding you tightly. That could stop you from hurting yourself too. And protect the innocent grilled cheese in your way.”