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4
“Do you think she let us in just to leave us standing on her doorstep?” Elias said with amusement.
“Maybe you should let one of us do the talking,” Sterling suggested.
“Probably a good idea,” Elias agreed. “One look at you, and she’ll likely run screaming.”
He gave them both an exasperated look. “I can handle one woman. I’ve been doing this for a while.”
Elias held his hands up. “Think I’ll go start doing a recon of the area then.”
“I’ll see if I can find this pool house and unpack the stuff,” Sterling added.
Wait. So, they were fucking leaving him? Assholes. He sighed. Great.
The door opened before he could call them back. Standing in the doorway was a tiny slip of a girl. She had her thick chestnut-colored hair in two braids. Her face was pale with smudges under her eyes.
She was dressed in a black dress that covered her from her shoulders to her feet. Which he noticed were bare. And the nails were painted a pink so bright it almost hurt his eyes to look at them.
That was surprising. And kind of cute.
She’s not cute, idiot.
It had been a long time since he’d been involved with a Little. Or even played at a club. Linda had been a sub, but not a Little. When they’d first started dating, they’d often go to the club to play. But after they were married, both of them had lost interest. Although, he’d come to learn that she’d simply found someone else to play with. His accountant.
He’d been fooled by his wife, his accountant, left with nothing.
Complete and utter failure.
But he wouldn’t let this woman-girl see that. Sure, she might rouse his Daddy instincts, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was ready to move back into that scene.
His gut churned at the thought. Or maybe not.
Her fingers started tapping against the sides of her legs. A sign of agitation. And nervousness.
Because you’re not talking, you ass.
Then his gaze caught on the red, blistered patch of skin on the top of her hand.
“How’d you get that?” he snapped, reaching for her hand. And why hadn’t anyone taken care of it?
She snatched her hand out of his reach, stumbling back with a gasp. Her foot landed in something red on the floor. She let out a cry of pain.
Fuck, was that blood?
“Where are you bleeding?” he yelled.
Her eyes widened as she wobbled, about to fall. Acting on instinct, he grabbed her, pulling her towards him. She cried out, clasping her hands around his neck, and holding on tight. He swallowed heavily at the feel of her body against his.
Don’t react. Don’t react.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, growing stiff. He saw the moment she realized that she was pressed against a strange man’s body. He set her down before she could start to panic. Last thing he wanted was a hysterical, pint-sized woman on his hands.
Oh yeah? Because you’re quite enjoying holding her in your hands at the moment.
“What did you slip on? Is that blood? Are you bleeding?” He looked her over but couldn’t see any source for the red liquid lying on the floor.
