Page 124 of Guardian Daddy

Red filled her cheeks, but she leaned forward and took a bite.

A piece of cheese landed on his sweater that she was wearing and she jumped up, pushing him back. “Oh no!”

“What is it?”

“I got cheese on your sweater. I can clean it. I’m very good at cleaning things. I had to do the laundry for my aunt and uncle. I know how to get stains out because they rarely bought me new clothes. Just let me get this off.”

“Baby, Cate, stop.” He reached out and grabbed the sweater so she couldn’t pull it off. “Stop. Please.”

“But it might stain.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. You’re not supposed to be worrying about anything. And it’s just cheese, baby. It won’t stain, and I wouldn’t care if it did.”

“I don’t want to ruin your sweater.”

“What if I wanted you to keep it? Because I love the sight of you in it.”

“Really?” she asked. “Is that an alpha male thing? In the books I read where the men are dominant, they often like to see their partner in their clothes. Almost like an ownership thing. You belong to me because you wear my clothing.”

“I, uh, I hadn’t really thought about it. But perhaps it is about claiming you. I wouldn’t say owning you.”

“Hmm.”

Did she want to be owned by him? That was a whole other level that he didn’t think she was ready for. She could barely slip into Little headspace and then she didn’t stay in it for long. They’d kissed but hadn’t gone into any detail about the sort of relationship either of them might want.

Ownership could be whatever the hell you wanted it to be.

Although he liked the sound of it.

A heck of a lot.

“Leave the sweater on, baby. I don’t care if you get it dirty. I don’t care if you get anything dirty. Okay?”

She stared at him in surprise. “Yes. I, um, I suppose.”

His hands clenched into fists and he had to work hard to relax them. “Did your aunt and uncle really make you do all the laundry?”

“Well, yes. But I found I didn’t mind that too much. There were worse things they made me do. I really hated getting up on the ladder to clean the gutters.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

He was going to track those bastards down and annihilate them. He’d find out who they were from Ink. Then he’d teach them to treat his girl like their fucking slave.

“How old were you?”

“Pardon?”

“How old were you when they made you get up on a freaking ladder to clean out gutters?”

“I think by the time I was ten I could reach the gutters while standing on the ladder.”

He swore harshly.

“What’s wrong? You seem angry. Are you upset?” she asked.

He couldn’t believe she was asking him why he was upset . . .

Take a breath.

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