Starting Over Read online

  “Yes,” she murmurs.

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. No wonder she’s so skittish. I want to punch something. “How long ago?” I ask gently.

  “It’s been three years. I left him. I’m over it.”

  Apparently not, though. “Was he physical with you?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Verbal. When we met I was already dabbling in the fetish community. I was a member of Surrender. He wasn’t. I told him about it. He thought it would be cool to explore together. He either didn’t understand the community or chose not to. At first, it was no big deal. I thought it was just his naïve presentation that rubbed me wrong, but it escalated.”

  “Go on.”

  She sighs. “He had this notion I wanted him to order me around, so he did. He kept adding to the perverted dominance though until he was constantly insisting I wait for him on my knees at the end of the day. He wanted a blow job before he even got through the door. He would demand dinner at certain times. Shit like that. I wasn’t getting anything out of it, so I left.” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

  No wonder she’s so independent. It makes more sense now. “Have you dated anyone since then?”

  “No.”

  I sure can’t judge her for that. I haven’t dated anyone in five years myself. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Amelia.”

  She shrugs. “It’s water under the bridge. I’m over it.”

  “Except you haven’t let anyone else into your life.”

  “Haven’t needed it. I like to control my own environment. I like to know where my stuff is and what’s in my fridge. My home is always peaceful because I’m the only person in it. If I leave clothes on the floor, no one complains.”

  “Do you do that?” I’m fighting a grin.

  She sighs. “No. That’s not the point.” She narrows her gaze. “What about you? Why don’t you have someone in your life?”

  I nod slightly. “Fair question. I was in a long-term relationship with a Little. She abruptly ended the relationship and left. That was five years ago. Soon after that I took this job for Roman and moved out here. I haven’t had the opportunity to find another Little.” I run a hand through my hair. “The truth is I haven’t wanted to. Celia burned me. I’ve been hiding from the world.”

  She flinches, her eyes widening in shock. “You’ve been hiding for five years?”

  “Haven’t you also been hiding for three years?” I point out.

  She bites that lower lip again for several seconds. “I didn’t move to a remote cabin and not see humans. I had friends and the club and a job.”

  “But you’ve been lonely,” I state gently.

  She shakes her head. “Nope. I’ve been perfectly fine.”

  “Fine is a horrible way to live.” I lift a brow.

  “Have you been fine?” she queries.

  Touché. I sigh. “I thought I was fine, until yesterday.” Honesty seems prudent.

  “Well, so did I then.” She sits taller again.

  I smile. “So, we were both fine for far too many years and now we’ve met. Maybe we could work on being more than fine together?”

  She searches my gaze. “I don’t think we want the same things.”

  “But you’re curious, and you’re doubting your resolve.”

  “It’s more like I’m infuriated you have a way of affecting me that goes against my resolve to never let anyone dominate me again.”

  “Your ex wasn’t dominating you. He was abusing you. There’s a difference.”

  “I know but it’s a fine line and I was obviously horrible at discerning the difference. I don’t trust people now.”

  “Are you sure it’s not that you don’t trust yourself? You were newer to BDSM back then. You aren’t new anymore. You’re well aware of the signs of an abuser versus a legitimate Dom, a real Daddy.”

  “Maybe…”

  “I think you need to forgive yourself, don’t you?”

  She fidgets again. “Maybe. My friend Stella thinks I should move on.”

  “Your friend Stella sounds like a wise woman.”

  Amelia tips her head down but in a moment she sniffles which breaks my heart. “Sweet girl, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  She swipes at her tears and holds her breath.

  “You need a hug. Would you like to come over here so I can hug you?” I told her she had to ask me to touch her, but that was before I knew she was going to divulge difficult information and then shiver while she cried. I uncross my legs and sit forward.

  She hesitates. Thinking. Seconds tick by. Finally, she shoves off the edge of the armchair and comes to me.

  My heart is melting as she approaches, and when she gets close enough, I slide my hands down her slender arms and ease them back up, giving her a moment to adjust to my touch. When she lets out the breath she’s holding, I part my thighs and pull her gently into my embrace.

  Blessedly, she slumps against me, so I lift her up and settle her on one knee, hugging her close and rocking her gently. I stroke her ponytail and then palm her head so she rests it against my shoulder.

  “I hate that someone hurt you, sweet girl. Thank you for sharing that with me. It will help me to be more aware of your needs. I’ll be very careful about how I speak to you.” I tip her chin back so she looks at me. “I’m not saying I won’t be strict with you or have rules. I won’t let you do dangerous things like roaming around at night in the dark alone.” I lift a brow.

  She licks her lips, eyes wide. “I’m not fond of rules.”

  I chuckle, shaking both of us. “I bet you would be if you tried my way.”

  She shakes her head, looking very Little. How does my sweet girl not see herself as a Little?

  “Nope. I like to do as I please.” She crosses her arms defiantly. Adorably. She even humphs.

  I can’t help but chuckle again and squeeze her closer. I decide to change the subject. “Where were you working before you came here?”

  “A café my friend Stella owns.”

  “Ah. I bet she’s sorry to lose you.”

  “Yes, but she knew this was a good job opportunity for me, so she’s happy for me.”

  “Where were you living?”

  “I had an apartment near the café. I ended my lease, put some things in storage, and made this giant move.”

  I hold her hand against her thigh and rub the back of it with my thumb. “Kinda scary.”

  She shrugs. “A little. But I’ve known Leah for a long time, so I didn’t come into this completely blind.”

  “Good point. You’re obviously beyond qualified, your food is amazing, and your enthusiasm is contagious.” I grin at her.

  “Thank you.” She sits up taller as she accepts the compliment. “Leah told me you played football in college.”

  “Yep. Three years. I tore my ACL my junior year and that ended it for me. One of my teammates and best friends went pro though. Niko Giles. I haven’t seen him in years.” I should look him up soon. It’s been a long time since we’ve talked.

  “What did you major in?”

  “Horticulture,” I tell her.

  “Oh, so you always enjoyed working outside with plants.”

  “Yep. Even when I was a kid. I built an amazing garden for my mom growing up.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  I hold her gaze for several seconds. God, I want to fast forward this relationship. Two days ago, I would have told anyone who asked that I didn’t want another Little or a woman at all. Now Amelia has me tied in knots and wrapped around her finger.

  I take a deep breath. “So, we’re two slightly damaged people who are attracted to each other and a bit nervous about what to do next.”

  “It doesn’t seem like you’re nervous,” she points out.

  I lift both brows. “I’m beyond nervous.”

  “Why?” She cocks her head to one side. “You seem so confident.”

  “I am confident about how I feel, but I’m nervous about how long it’s going to take
me to convince you to give me a chance, and I don’t want to say or do the wrong things.”

  She bites her bottom lip again and squirms on my knee. “I thought Daddies were always certain about everything,” she teases.

  “Daddies are human too. We want what’s best for naughty Little girls who think they know better.” I release her hand to tickle her tummy.

  She giggles and bats at my hand. “I’m a grown adult, you know. I’ve survived just fine on my own for several years. I don’t need a Daddy.”

  “Mmm. Needing and wanting something are very different. I don’t need a Little either, nor did I realize I even wanted one until I saw you working in the kitchen yesterday with that God-awful smell all around you.”

  “You were so gruff. I thought I’d done something to anger you.” She bites her lip yet again.

  I reach up and pluck the offended lip from between her lips. “I’m sorry I came on so strong. I was stunned by my reaction to you even before you looked my direction. There was something about the way you moved, the way your hair bounced around your shoulder…” I give a lock of it a tug.

  She smiles.

  “The way you were almost giddy about your job. Did you know you were smiling from ear to ear while you cleaned the kitchen?”

  She shakes her head.

  “You were. And I couldn’t breathe.”

  “That’s because of the fumes.”

  I chuckle. “It was because of you.” I tap her nose. “I used the fumes as an excuse to spin on my heels and get out of there as fast as possible so I could process my odd reaction on my own.”

  “You were equally as surly when you came back,” she points out.

  “You had bewitched me, imp. And then you wanted me to judge your muffins.” I gasp like the concept is horrifying.

  “How will I know which ones to serve if you can’t be honest?”

  “You’ll have to find someone else to be honest about your cooking, sweet girl. It’s never going to be me. You could serve me rocks with a side of dirt and I would swallow it politely and tell you it was delicious.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me?” I lean her back several inches, ensuring she doesn’t fall with a strong grip around her waist while I tickle her tummy again.

  She’s laughing so hard she can’t catch her breath, and tears are running down her cheeks when I stop. But she’s so fucking cute my chest is tight.

  I rub my thumb along her bottom lip. “I want to kiss you, Amelia,” I say in all seriousness.

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  I hold her gaze. I want to be sure she wants the same thing. “Ask me.”

  “Ask you to kiss me?”

  “Yes. Ask me.”

  She glances at her lap and plays with an imaginary piece of lint on her jeans. “Can’t you just kiss me without making it an entire conversation?”

  “Nope. I want to have your permission. I want to be sure you want it badly enough to ask for it.”

  She lifts her gaze. There’s a slight lift at one corner of her lips. “Are you going to want me to ask for every single thing I want from you?”

  I lift both brows. “Are there other things you want, sweet girl?”

  She nods. “Of course, but I’d rather you just did them without demanding my consent each time.”

  Chapter 6

  Amelia

  * * *

  I can’t believe I just said that, and it makes me panic a bit. I can’t believe a lot of the things that have come out of my mouth in the past hour. I’ve shocked myself several times.

  Foster is so…omnipresent. It’s like he’s larger than the room. He sucks the oxygen out of the air. He makes me feel out-of-body like I’m someone different. Someone new. I don’t recognize myself when I’m with him.

  I’m sitting on his lap. I know he’s Daddying me. I don’t even mind. Not really. I should, but it feels good. Everything he says sounds right. Everything he does feels right.

  I want him to kiss me. I want him to do so much more than kiss me. But I’m scared, too. What if this goes badly? I’m beyond worried I can’t be what he thinks I can. When he’s in my space, it feels like I can be anything for him. But I know if I walked out the door right now, I would draw in deep breaths and doubt myself.

  It’s for that reason I wiggle off his lap and take a few steps away from him.

  He doesn’t jump to his feet, but he does reach out a hand to grab mine. For a moment, I think he’s trying to pull me back toward him, but then I realize the backs of my legs have hit the coffee table and I would have fallen onto my ass on top of it if he hadn’t caught me.

  As soon as he steadies me, he lets me go. He tips his head back and meets my gaze. “You okay?”

  I nod. “Can we go outside?” I’m sure that’s the oddest request, but if I could just inhale…

  “Of course.” He rises slowly and swings out a hand to indicate I should precede him toward the door.

  I nearly trip over my feet getting there, but when he reaches around to open the door, I draw in a deep breath and step outside.

  There’s a front porch on his house. It looks like perhaps he added it recently. It matches the house perfectly, but the wood is slightly newer and freshly cut.

  Foster points at a swinging chair. “Would you like to sit?”

  I shake my head. “Can we walk? There are trails, right?”

  He nods. “Yes. We can do that.” He reaches out for my hand.

  If he thinks my weird change of pace is strange, he doesn’t indicate it in any way. He’s politely going along with my shift in behavior. Commendable. Two more points for Foster. The man never ends up with anything in the negative column. It’s maddening.

  He steps off the porch, but I give his hand a tug, causing him to turn around.

  I like how the one step gives me about six more inches of height. I still have to look up at him, but it’s not as overwhelming. “I’d like you to kiss me before we walk.”

  He smiles slowly. “Okay.” He steps closer, sets his hands on my hips, and guides me toward him until our bodies are less than an inch apart. When he’s happy with this arrangement, he slides his hands up my back, his palms splayed wide, urging me to lean into him.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and lick my lips.

  Foster slowly lowers his mouth to mine. At first, he simply nibbles. Tiny little kisses that make me catch my breath and leave me wanting.

  “Like that?” he whispers against my lips.

  I giggle and shake my head.

  He chuckles before one hand slides up into my hair. He angles my head to one side and lowers his parted lips to mine.

  This kiss is not brief or sweet. It’s demanding and hot and makes me moan in seconds. It’s not like any other kiss I’ve ever had. It’s intense. Breathtaking. I want more. I want everything.

  This is why I didn’t let him kiss me while we were inside and I was on his lap. That would have led to things I’m not ready for.

  Foster runs his tongue gently along the seam of my lips, and I open for him, tasting him more fully. He tastes of the cinnamon muffin I served him with his quiche. He tastes of the outdoors and hard work. He tastes like Foster.

  I hold him tight, partly because I’m afraid my knees will buckle if I don’t.

  The world-record kiss lasts for so long I lose track of where we are or what day it is or what planet we’re on. When he eases his lips from mine, I’m breathing heavily and I hold his gaze, not yet caring where we might be or what decade it is or what planet.

  He gives me a slow smile and holds me tighter. “You were right.”

  “About what?” I murmur.

  “About taking that outside. I barely had the wherewithal to keep from stripping you on the patio.”

  I bite my lip to stifle my giggle.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to. I also know no one but us is on the property right now. But I still wouldn’t take that kind of risk. As badly as I’d li
ke to taste every inch of your sweet body, I’m not interested in sharing it with anyone else.”

  He slides one hand down to cup my butt. “With the possible exception of your cute bottom. There may come a day when I feel the need to take you over my knee and spank you in front of other people.”

  I shiver and squeeze my legs together. Would I want him to spank me in front of other people?

  He grins. “Oh yeah. There will for sure be a day when that happens.”

  My face heats. I’m sure it’s ten shades of red. I swat at his chest. “You can’t spank me in front of people.”

  His eyes twinkle. “So, you admit I can spank you. You’re just not ready for me to do it in public yet.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t be silly. I haven’t agreed to anything. You can’t spank me at all.”

  “But you will, and I will.” He grins again. I love his smile. I love his playfulness. I love how intense he is and how serious at the same time. I love how he looks at me like I’m the most precious person on earth.

  “Maybe…” I flex my ass under his grip.

  He gives it a squeeze. “Maybe?”

  “Okay, probably. But only because I like to be spanked and there’s no one else around to do it, and I’m curious to find out how good you are at spanking.”

  He chuckles. “Those are the only reasons, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’d like to point out my spanking won’t be like what you experience at the club. You said you don’t get aroused or come when you’re spanked at Surrender.”

  I flush deeper, shake my head, and confirm, “No. I do it for the release of stress.”

  “You know it’s going to be different with me, right?” He kisses my lips briefly, teasing me, tormenting me. Making promises.

  I shudder. I know he’s right. It’s kind of scary, but I’m so damn intrigued at the same time. He’s like a giant magnet. I can’t get away from him. I don’t want to.

  “I can spank you two very different ways, you know. Sometimes I’ll spank you because you need the relief. I’ll finish that type off with my cock deep in your warmth. Sometimes I’ll spank you to discipline you when you’re naughty. I’ll stand you in timeout afterward so you don’t get any release.”