Page 8 of Swing and a Little Miss

Shit, it wasn’t the right time for this conversation."But the new demos you created are helping close sales, so thank you for that. You’re kind of a genius with that stuff."

"I told you they would." Her smile was smug, but she'd earned it. "Your team is amazing, but they just needed better tools. I’m so glad they were willing to try them."

I ignored what was likely a dig at me as she stirred cream and sugar into her coffee. My eyes kept stopping at the soft pink of her lipstick, wondering what it tasted like.

"I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner." I stepped close enough that I could lower my voice so only Abby could hear me.

She shrugged in a gesture that managed to be both casual and deliberate. "You didn’t trust marketing. I get it. It’s not uncommon for sales and marketing to hate each other."

I couldn't argue with that. I'd been dismissive of her since she started. Partly because of past trauma I’d experienced with annoying marketing types, but if I was honest with myself—which I rarely was—it had more to do with how she made me feel. Distracted. Off-balance. Like I needed to pull her into my arms and take care of her like the sweet baby girl I wanted her to be.

"I trust you now, little miss marketing." I winked at her over my steaming hot mug.

Her eyes flicked up to mine with a mischievous spark lighting them from within. "Good to know, mister sales boss." She pushed off from the counter and walked past me with the scent of vanilla trailing in her wake. "See you on your next cup."

By Friday, my whole team was seeing progress. Three more deals had closed, and our pipeline had grown by twenty percent. The pressure in my chest was finally slipping away, even though we still had months of lagging sales to make up for.

I found Abby in the creative bullpen, reviewing graphics with the design team. When she looked up at me, I caught her eye. "Got a minute?"

“Sure.” She excused herself and followed me into the hallway. "Everything okay?"

"Everything’s great." I shifted my weight, unsure if I should pursue this or let it go. “I just wanted to ask if you’re playing tonight.”

"Yeah, Corinne recruited me to be on the roster full-time.” She grinned as she leaned closer. "Even though it cuts into my nighttime routine.”

Okay, so we’re doing this. "Well, I promised to help with that, if you’re open to it."

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and I had the absurd impulse to do it for her. “If you’re still up for it…”

"I am." I studied her face, watching her eyes to see if she was completely sure. When I saw nothing but desire, I leaned down to speak close to her ear. "Whatever you need, sweet girl. Daddy’s got you."

Abby swayed on her feet, and her eyes closed for a long moment. “Fuck, Royce. You’re killing me here."

The juxtaposition of knowing she could regress to be Little and speak to me with such a dirty mouth made my dick fill with blood and my head spin. I wanted to take care of her and ruin her in equal measure.

"Is that a yes?"

"To bathtime?" She was playing with fire, right there in the breakroom where anyone could walk in and find us.

"And anything else you need, little girl." My voice dropped lower, a clear warning that she was pushing me out of the safe zone.

Instead of backing off, she leaned slightly toward me. "Okay, Daddy. Bring some toys."

The word ricocheted through me like a bullet. We'd never acknowledged this thing between us so explicitly, and I certainly didn’t think it would all come out while we were at work. Before I could respond to her demand, she was walking away with her hips swaying from side to side.

I spent the afternoon in a meeting with the CFO, explaining the sudden uptick in sales, but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept wandering to Abby's words and the way Daddy slipped off her tongue so naturally. Maybe she was just messing with me, joking around. But I didn’t think it was a coincidence that she recognized the Daddy in me.

Abby was a Little, clearly in need of a Daddy to take care of her.

And I was pretty sure I was meant to be that Daddy.

Being back on the softball field was a relief. The open air and physical exertion was exactly what I needed to clear my head. It also helped channel my restless energy into something productive. I ran a few laps and then started a series of warm-up exercises with a few people while we waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Abby showed up in a snug jersey and form-fitting leggings that made me throw three foul balls in a row. "What’s got you so distracted, boss?" Daniel leaned on his bat as he adjusted his cap. “You’re usually our star pitcher.”

I shook out my head and diverted my gaze from Abby. "Just thinking about a meeting I had today." It wasn’t a complete lie. I was thinking about my meeting…with Abby. The one when she called me Daddy.

Across the field, Abby was laughing with Jane from accounting about something. She caught me watching and wiggled her fingers in an adorable wave.

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