Page 23 of Chasing Amber

A nurse wheels in a tray of supplies, and Jace is back moments later. His bedside manner is the best I’ve ever seen. If only all doctors were also Daddy Doms.

“The only part that’s going to hurt is the needle I’m going to use to numb the area first. Can you be brave for me while I prick your chin, Amber?”

She whimpers. It’s not a noise she’s ever made. Nothing about this experience is normal for Amber. She winces when he injects the area but relaxes slightly afterward, and she never moves while Jace stitches her up. It’s over pretty fast.

“There,” he declares, “you’ll be right as rain in no time.” He shifts his attention to me as he helps her sit. “Bring her back in five days, and I’ll take out the stitches.”

“Thank you.” I shake his hand, and then he rattles off care instructions and gives me a printout telling me how to care for the wound.

I have Amber back in the SUV and buckled in the front seat in less than an hour. I hate that I can’t touch her, but I have to drive us home. There’s no telling when or if she might suddenly turn to me, snap out of the odd space she’s in, and tell me to fuck right off.

I hope she’s not embarrassed or furious when she realizes everything that transpired—starting with me barging into Cassandra’s playroom while Amber was in Little space and leading up to her squeezing the life out of my fingers in the urgent care.

I’d give anything for her to embrace this new side of herself and stop fighting me. I want nothing more than to hold her and stroke her cheek to make her feel better. I’ve touched her more in the last two hours than I have in two years. I’ve also seen more of her skin.

Today was my first time seeing my girl in a bra and panties. It wasn’t appropriate for me to react to her in a sexual way while her chin was dripping with blood, but I’m not dead. I saw. It’s not like I had no idea what she might look like naked. I’m aware of her curves. I’ve been living with her for over a year. I’ve seen her in tight sports shirts and leggings. But none of that compares to how fucking sexy she was in that pink bra-and-panty set.

I park in the garage under our building, help her out of the car, and lead her to the elevator. She doesn’t say a word then, nor when we enter the apartment, and still not when I guide her to her bedroom.

I never enter Amber’s bedroom. It’s her safe space where she can be alone. I’ve been in here twice in less than twenty-four hours. She doesn’t balk as I lead her to the bed and pull the covers back. She says nothing when I lift her by the hips and set her on the edge of the bed so I can take off her sneakers.

I look up at her while squatting in front of her. “Do you need to go potty before you lie down?”

She nods.

I stand and help her back to her feet before guiding her into the bathroom. It takes everything in me to back out of the room. “Yell if you need me, baby.” I pull the door almost closed.

My heart is in my hands. I wish all of this was our new normal. I wish I had the sort of relationship with my girl in which she wouldn’t flinch at me taking her to the toilet, pulling her pants down, and holding her steady while she pees.

We may never have that sort of relationship. I can’t predict that. But I’d love nothing more than for Amber to open the figurative door all the way and let me in. Even if we’ve had a breakthrough today and she opens the door a crack, I can’t expect her to suddenly take on a new personality overnight. She’s going to need time to think about this.

I hear the toilet flush and the sink running, and then she shuffles back into the room. Fuck, she’s Little. This side of herself she refused to experience until today is precious.

I lift her back onto the bed, help her lie back, and pull the covers up. She’s probably going to be too hot in her jeans, but there’s no way I’m going to suggest taking them off. We’re treading on thin ice here. I’m not taking risks.

I pat her shoulder. “I’m going to grab you some water. Be right back.” I hurry into the kitchen, wishing we had sippy cups. We don’t, of course. We don’t have a single thing in this apartment for a Little. I’ll fix that as soon as possible. If there’seven the slightest chance of Little Amber coming out again, I want to be prepared next time.

I do find a plastic cup with a lid and straw, though. That will have to do. I fill it with ice water and return to her bedroom. The doctor gave her ibuprofen already, but I’m betting she’s thirsty.

I sit on the edge of her bed, slide my hand under her neck, and help her lift up a bit, guiding the straw to her lips with my other hand.

She sips some of the water and drops back down onto the bed. “Thank you,” she finally whispers.

After setting the cup on the nightstand, I place one palm on the other side of her and lean over her. “Need anything else?”

She shakes her head. She’s all tucked in, but she’s still trembling.

When I stand, she licks her lips. “Where are you going?” she asks in her Little voice, which I’ve learned is at a slightly higher pitch than her adult voice.

My heart races. “I’ll be in the kitchen, Little one. I bet you’d like some homemade chicken soup for dinner…?” I smile at her.

She swallows. “Will you lie with me?” she murmurs.

And my heart leaps out of my chest. Fuck me. “Of course, baby.” I round to the other side of her bed, climb up, and crawl over to drop down on top of the covers. I settle my head on the pillow of my bent arm and place my other hand on her tummy. “Sleep, baby. I’m right here.”

She closes her eyes and snuggles closer to me. It takes a few minutes for her breathing to even out, but it does, and her body stops shaking as she becomes significantly more limp.

I stare at her for over an hour, watching her breathe, noticing the way her lips part and how her brow is much less furrowed in sleep. Her cheeks are pink. The band in her hair has slid so low that most of her thick hair is panned out on her pillow.

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