Page 23 of Derek

“You are such a good boy, Snuggles. You’re almost as cuddly as your mother. But you’re looking a little scraggly. Is there a brush or comb around here?” Sonja listened as he moved around checking the drawer on the end table where she kept Snuggles’brush and comb. He was in for a shock if he tried to brush or comb Snuggles. The only grooming he liked less was having his claws trimmed. Sure enough, Snuggles’ gave his distinctive yowl at Derek’s attempt to brush him. “Ouch. That hurts. Come back. What am I supposed to do for cuddles while your mother is in the corner?”

Sonja struggled to contain her giggles.

Sonja knew precisely where to find her cat, but as she was on time out, she contented herself with inward laughter at his predicament. Still thinking about Snuggles, she jumped when she felt Derek’s hand on her back.

“Time’s up. Come here, babygirl.” He turned her around and tipped her head back for a kiss. She was so eager for it she opened her lips immediately, and his tongue took full advantage of the opportunity. It took Snuggles meowing and rubbing around her ankles to break the kiss.

She bent down to the cat, wincing at the butt plug’s movement. “Poor Snuggles. Did the big man try to brush you? It’s okay. I know the rules about brushing, and I’ll explain them to him.” She looked up at Derek with a mischievous smile. “Snuggles hates two things—being brushed and having his claws trimmed. The way to do both involves treats. Lots and lots of treats.”

“I’ll remember that. You can give me a demonstration before I try to do it by myself. You give Snuggles all the attention, but I’m the injured party here.” He held up his hand with a small scratch on it.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll get you a bandage after you wash your hands.” She tried to keep a straight face.

“Watch it, babygirl. Laughing at your Dom is not a good idea. Speaking of laughter, what were you giggling about? Corner time is not supposed to be fun.”

“I was just thinking that I really should have told you about the mammogram and stuff because you really like my breasts.” She started chuckling again at the thought.

“Babygirl. I don’t just like your breasts. I love them. And I love you.”

Sonja’s laughter ended abruptly. “Did you just say you loved me?”

“That’s exactly what I said, babygirl. I love you.”

“Isn’t it a bit early to use the ‘L’ word?” Her throat clogged with emotion, and she peeked at Derek through her lashes.

He shook his head. “No. Not only am I convinced about my feelings for you”—he took her face into both his hands, his scratch evidently forgotten—“but you, of all people, deserve to be loved!”

She couldn’t answer because he pressed his mouth against her lips. It was better this way; he’d rendered her speechless—again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After a night of cuddles and sweet, vanilla sex, Sonja and Derek went their separate ways in the morning. Both had errands to run, but they planned to meet up at Club Indigo that evening.

Sonja did her grocery shopping and made a trip to Victoria’s Secret to see what they had in the way of lingerie that might be appropriate for a Little. The last time she’d been there, they’d had a sale with a gorgeous babydoll nightie. Sadly, her size hadn’t been available. She hoped for better luck today. On the drive there, she thought about all that Derek had said, especially that he loved her. Was it possible? They had only known each other six weeks. They hadn’t yet established that she was the sort of Little girl he wanted.

She pulled into a parking space at Zona Rosa Town Center and turned off the engine. Her head was going ’round and ’round, and she was getting nowhere. Her gran had always told her when she wasn’t sure about how she felt about something, set it aside and let her mind figure it out without her help. She tried to put the question of love out of her mind and promised herself she wouldn’t dwell on it anymore.

She was happy to discover the store was having another sale, but she didn’t see anything like what she had been looking forwhen she came in. Sonja started to leave when another item caught her eye. It wasn’t a babydoll nightie but an elegant, full-length peignoir set in creamy satin with lace trim. The color would be perfect against her sepia complexion. It was also on the clearance rack for seventy percent off the original price and was in her size. How had she gotten so lucky? She pulled it off the shelf and was pleased that the fabric was as soft and silky as it looked. The lace was delicate and wouldn’t irritate her skin. She tried the robe on over her blouse and slacks. Not only was the sizing generous, but the set would fit her comfortably. She could have tried on the gown, too, but didn’t see the need. The top was designed so it provided support for her generous breasts. Before she could second guess herself, she was at the cash register paying for it. The lingerie gave her an idea for what to wear to the club that night, too. She would have a look in Wilma’s while she was at the mall. Maybe she would have what Sonja needed.

As the day went on, she found herself thinking about Monday and the biopsy. It did her no good to worry, but she had to consider all possibilities. How would she manage if it was cancer? She couldn’t depend on Derek. They had barely started a relationship, protestations of love on his part notwithstanding. If her father had abandoned them when her mother was diagnosed, why would Derek stick around? She would leave him out of any plans, for the time being, at least. A little voice inside tried to tell her Derek was not like her father, but Sonja couldn’t be sure. She wouldn’t put herself in the same position her mother had been in. By the time she left for Club Indigo, she had convinced herself that if the biopsy were positive for cancer, she would be on her own.

Derek was sitting at the bar nursing a glass of bourbon when Sonja entered, wearing a bright-red dress with makeup to match. Aside from the color, it looked like the dress Marilyn Monroe had worn inThe Seven Year Itch,and Derek wondered what Sonja would look like if she stood on a subway grate in it. It seemed like she was trying to highlight her feminine traits over her inner child. They would have to see about that. Derek wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but this femme fatale was definitely not it.

“Hello, Derek,” she all but purred. “How do you like my new dress? I got it especially for you.”

“Interesting choice, babygirl. What would you like to drink?”

Vodka tonic, please.”

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate drink for you. Especially if we’re going to play later.” Derek let a touch of sternness into his voice.

Sonja shrugged. “Maybe I don’t feel like playing tonight. Let’s dance instead.” She tried to move him from his barstool, but she would have been more successful moving a fully grown oak tree.

“Orange juice for Sonja, please, Scott. Child’s cup.”

“I said I wanted a vodka tonic,” Sonja demanded. “Scott, it’s my order, not his. I don’t need someone else’s permission to have a freaking drink.”

“The lady has a point, Derek,” Scott said. “She didn’t address you by title. That makes her a free agent in my book.”

---