“I don’ts need it since I feels fine,” she tried to convince him.
“Is that so? Did I mention that naughty little girls say goodbye to their fun activities?”
“Like what?” she asked suspiciously.
“Like watching cartoons and coloring.” It was a bit of a guess, but he’d spotted some coloring books tucked under a cushio
n in the living room. They looked like they had cartoon characters on the front.
She gasped; the noise comically loud.
“Now, are you going to drink the Gatorade like a good girl or do I need to go find a baby bottle to feed it to you?” Not that he fucking had one of those.
“I am not a baby.” She snatched the Gatorade out of his hand and started to drink.
He let out a deep sigh. Thank fuck. He really had thought they were headed to the Emergency room. He ran his hand over his face.
“You look tired.”
He glanced back at her. He glanced from the bottle to her mouth. Then raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Drink or do you need my help?”
She sighed but lifted it to her mouth once more.
“I’m fine. Just a few long days at work.” He stood and stretched. Now that she was drinking, he felt better about leaving her.
Better, but still not great. Especially when she was in Little mode. How often did she go into Little mode? Did she normally have someone look after her?
“Was Greg, ah, your Daddy?”
“What?” She pulled the drink away. “No. That would be silly.”
“Silly, how?”
“‘Cause Greg never thought about anyone but himself.”
Yeah, that sounded about right from what she’d told him about the man.
“I’m sleepy now.” The bottle was only half-empty. But her eyelids were drooping, her words slurring. However, she still needed more.
He sat next to her on the bed. She scooted over and he pulled her against him, his arm over her shoulder, her head resting on his chest. He grabbed the bottle, holding it to her lips. He tried to ignore how good she felt in his arms. How nice it was to look after someone like this.
She reached for the bottle but he pulled it back. “Uh-uh, conserve your energy, baby girl. Just concentrate on drinking. Good girl.”
He had to admit Razor did know what he was talking about. As soon as she’d figured out that he was serious and willing to back up any misbehavior with punishment, she’d become much more relaxed.
Secure. She felt more secure.
He just held her gently as she drank more. When the bottle was three-quarters gone and she’d stopped sucking, he pulled it away, feeling an odd sort of satisfaction.
He settled her into bed and slipped his arm away, standing.
She stirred. “Duke?”
“Yeah?” he replied gruffly.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He paused. It wasn’t any of his business. . .but still he had to know. . .