Page 50 of Lesson In Forgiveness

A snort ripped down her nose, derisive and bitter.

“Truly. She spent most of her life being beaten—first by her father, who belted her every Sunday into a bloody mess, spouting religious verses as he tried to beat the devil out of a child who’d never put a foot wrong in her young life. Secondly, by a Dom who masqueraded as something he was not.” He dared—fucking dared—to set one big-palmed hand on her knee. “Being Little, for her, is a culmination of several things. Reclaiming a childhood she lost, protecting herself against anyone who might hurt her again. Some might say she’s crazy—those who don’t understand what she went through, how much bravery it took to not only recover from the physical and mental hell but to flourish despite it.”

“I’m not Little,” Tabitha pointed out, flashing him a savage grin. “I’m a killer.”

“A killer with a conscience.”

She bared her teeth at him. “One who murders for money. Where’s the conscience in that?”

That low, smoky chuckle again. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Fuck, he had her there. While she glowered at him, her sulking evident, she tried to come up with a suitable comeback that didn’t boil down to, “Fuck you.”

“Callie has a big heart. Big enough to love two men equally. She’s sweet and unassuming, always willing to sacrifice her own happiness to please those around her. Perhaps you didn’t notice, but that heart is open to you as well.” He squeezed her knee gently, inciting a need to take his hand and break his fingers—something he was apparently aware of if the look in his eyes was anything to judge. Brave man. Foolish, brave man. “She has a surprise for you, if you’ll accept it. Including people, particularly when they exclude themselves, is one of her gifts, because she understands what it feels like to be left out.”

Tabitha’s shoulders sagged slightly. She wished he’d been more Dom-like, snapping orders and demanding obedience. Sometimes she was a sucker for a polite request—she’d once refrained from snipping off a man’s fingers because he’d asked, ever so politely, not to be parted from his wedding ring.

She’d still taken his life, but his commitment to his wife remained unbroken when his heart stopped beating.

That was why, twenty minutes later, she trudged out of the bedroom with Callie skipping by her side, dressed in a unicorn onesie.

“Doesn’t she look fabulous?” Callie sang as the men rose from the couch.

What she looked like, Tabitha thought grumpily, was a pink horse covered in fucking sparkles and glitter. The hood had ears, a shiny gold horn, and a floppy fringe of rainbow-colored hair. Padded slippers on her feet resembled golden hooves, and there was another rainbow sprouting from her ass in the form of a tail.

If anyone laughed, she was going to stick the horn where the sun didn’t shine.

“Fabulous,” Elias agreed, not a trace of amusement on his face.

Indeed.” The faintest smirk on Evander’s mouth gave him away.

Her gaze flashed to Grit, pinning him with a dare to make fun of her, but to his credit, he just took quiet stock of her attire, gave her a wink, and said, “My little tiger evolved into a beautiful unicorn. Not the kind of tail I imagined for you, but it does give me ideas.”

Callie clapped her hands in delight; Tabitha’s mouth dropped open.

“We’ve decided it might be fun to watch a movie,” Elias commented before she could blow the hood off her onesie with temper. “Little one, why don’t you come with me and get the snacks while Van gathers the supplies for a fort?”

The ensuing squeal of happiness almost perforated every eardrum in the room. “Ohmigosh, Daddy Eli, this is the best day ever! Snacks and a fort?”

“Mmm-hmm, someone’s a lucky girl.”

“Me! I’m the lucky girl!”

Running to him, Callie snagged his hand and started dragging him toward the kitchen, babbling all the while.

“That’s my cue,” Evander murmured, taking the long way around the couch.

His cue for what? Pony races around the coffee table, slapping her ass to make her run faster? Some slap and tickle, giddy up kind of crap?

Grit set his beer bottle down on said table with a dull thump of glass on wood, then approached her with measured caution. The first thing he did was slide a hand beneath the stupid hood and capture her neck in that way she almost loved, almost hated. The one where his fingers put pressure on a place that urged her to tilt her head to the side, expose the vulnerable length of her throat, and fall away into his protection.

Before she could dig that ridiculous notion from her head, roots and all, he bent and skimmed his lips over her cheek. “Thank you for doing this, Tabitha. I know this kind of costume isn’t your usual disguise, but you’ve made Callie happy.”

She scowled at him.

“Yeah, yeah. I dragged you over here and I’m so mean, forcing you to socialize with a Little.” He chuckled, then ran his free hand over her fluffy ass, gently fondling the swinging tail sewn into the back. “I’m not one for animal onesies, but I sure as fuck intend on getting you a butt plug tail for future use. Something I can wrap around my hand and tug while my cock fills your pussy.”

The image he conjured with his words materialized in her brain, sending her back a step. Her on all fours, cheek pressed to the covers, with Grit on his knees behind her. One big hand yanking on a plug, the other pinning her down by her shoulders.

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