Page 35 of Biker's Babygirl

“No!” She glares up at me, her lower lip protruding. “Don’t t-tell me how I feel!”

I immediately set her down on the table and bend at the waist so that we’re at eye level. “Do not take an attitude with me, littlegirl. I’m trying to help you, and you will not sass me. Do you understand?”

She cowers, and then bursts into a fresh round of tears. Even for a Little, her reaction seems strong, and fear based. As if my reprimand scared her.

But I force down my desire to comfort her and wait for her to calm down. If she’s going to stay here, she needs to understand some ground rules.

“Okay,” she sniffs at last.

“Okay what?”

“I w-won’t g-give you at-ti-tude,” she answers, hiccupping.

I reached forward and smooth back some stray strands of hair. “Somehow, I have a feeling that isn’t true. But if you do”—my voice turns ultra-Daddy-stern— “therewillbe consequences, so no more freebies. Understand?”

Her head bobs and she gazes as me with watery eyes.

“That’s a good girl. Now, I’m going to get some medicine?—”

“No more medicine!” she says, grimacing and looking away.

I hook a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “We have to get your fever down. It’s time for Tylenol.”

“But…” Her lower lip begins to quiver once more. “It’s yucky!”

“I know. Remember what Daddy said about having to do things we don’t want to stay healthy?”

Her lower lip protrudes further, and she gives a reluctant nod.

“The Tylenol combined with the Motrin will help get your temperature down more quickly. If the taste bothers you that much, I can always give you a suppository. What do you think?”

Ginny gives me limpid, sad eyes that tear at my heart and sniffles. “What does that mean?”

“It means I put the medicine in, ah, the same way I did the thermometer.” I smile to reassure her that I will be gentle.

“O-okay.” She nods, both her words and the motion tentative. “I’ll… I’ll do that.”

I give her chin a caress with the pad of my thumb before I release her. “Sit here. I’ll be right back.”

Ginny

As I watch Duke leave, my belly lumps into tight, anxious knots. “Shit.” Suddenly, I’m feeling more like myself. When Duke’s in the room, especially in his doctor persona, I find myself slipping into a younger version of myself. He treated me like a child, and I should resent it, I should have stormed out and slammed the door in his arrogant face. Instead, something inside me caved to his every word, followed his sternly soft commands. He’d called me a little girl, and I hadn’t even protested.

So much for having an inner feminist.

“You can’t go down this road again, Ginny,” I remind myself sternly. “You’ve been here before, playing Little to the Daddy-from-Hell, and remember how that worked out?” Though I’m whispering, hearing the words aloud is my best attempt of reminding myself at what I have to avoid at all costs.

I’ve been doing my best not to think about Lucas ever since I crossed the threshold of Duke’s house, as though the mere thought of him could bring in bad juju. But ever sinceDaddyhad burst from my lips, I had felt incredibly vulnerable. Without Duke’s larger-than-life presence filling the room, I feel the thoughts creeping in one on top of the other.

I’d always had a softer, smaller version of myself hiding way deep-down. I made the mistake of telling Lucas about her, and he’d pegged me as a Little. But he’d been a sinister Daddy,making me regret ever sharing it with him at all. He’d only used it against me.

And even though I’d be stupid not to see the differences between Duke and Lucas, I find myself suddenly feeling twisted like a pretzel by guilt, shame, and fear. Also need, Daddy issues, and fear of abandonment. But mostly desire. I’ve always wanted arealDaddy, and now I could actually have one, but can I trust it? “Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, furious with myself.

I hop down and begin to pace, just to give myself something to do. I reach up and feel my forehead with the back of my hand, then grimace. Itishot.

Fuck. Am I sick? Am I going to die?

No. I shake my head to clear the thought almost as soon as it dares cross my brain. Duke won’t let that happen. Why the hell am I drawn to strong, sexy men that also kinda scare me? I need serious therapy to figure out that puzzle, but worse yet, is what is to come. Because I’ve been here before, and I know how it’ll play out. Right now, he likes me and we’re playing this game where he takes care of me and I pretend to like it.

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