Page 24 of Jasper

He spins back toward me, eyes burning. “Not a big deal? You could’ve been seriously hurt—or worse. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? You’re tiny, Ariana. Going up against a man isn’t safe. You go and find a man who can help.”

I flinch. Not because I’m afraid of him. But because of how angry he is. Not at me, I realize. For me. He’s… worried.

“I’m fine,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “You won’t be if you keep putting yourself in situations like that.”

I lift my chin. “She needed help. And I’m scrappy. Like a badger.”

His gaze narrows and he cocks his head, a sure sign that I’ve caught him off guard. Which was my whole intent.

“Like a badger, rainbow? Do you know a lot about badgers?”

Shrugging, I smile innocently. “Only that they’re scrappy as fuck.”

Jasper makes a noise in the back of his throat, then lets out an exasperated breath before running his fingers through his hair. “No more getting into fucking scraps with men. Or anyone, for that matter. Or going to bars by yourself. Or… or living in the fucking woods with the goddamn bears. And no cursing.”

Before I can stop myself, I burst into giggles and shake my head. “You just said like five curse words in one sentence. I don’t think you’re exactly the person to tell someone me not to say bad words.”

Jasper stares at me for a long moment, and then his eyes fall to my arm again, his brow furrowing like he’s memorizing every scratch and scab.

“Go crawl into bed,” he says roughly. “I’ll bring you some ointment for that.”

“I need to grab something from my camper first,” I murmur, already trying to sidestep him to head to the door. “I’ll be right back?—”

He moves in front of me, his hand gently pressing against my shoulder to stop me. “You’re not going out there barefoot.”

“I’ll only be a second,” I argue, voice a little too high, a little too desperate.

“It’s freezing outside, Ariana. You don’t even have shoes on. Whatever you need, we can get it in the morning.”

“No,” I blurt, panic prickling beneath my skin. “I need it tonight.”

His gaze narrows slightly as he scans my face like he’s trying to figure me out. “What is it? Tell me what you need.”

I hesitate. My fingers twist in the hem of my tank top. “It’s… I just need it, okay?”

His expression softens, and he softens his voice. “Do you need your little blankie, Little one?”

My breath catches in my throat. My cheeks flush. Crap. Of course he saw it. There’s only so much to look at in that camper, and my blankie is pretty much the focal point of the entire thing since my bed takes up most of the space. Does he think it’s weird that I’m a grown woman with a small ratty blanket? That I can’t sleep without it?

I nod, barely.

The corner of his mouth lifts—not a smirk, not a tease. Just something gentle. Like understanding.

“All right,” he says, already moving toward the door. “I’ll go get it. Is there anything else you need to help you sleep? A stuffed toy?”

My heart flutters, and I bite my bottom lip. His question is genuine and curious without any mockery in his tone. Does he know I’m Little? How would he know? Unless… unless he knows what age play is, too. Unless he is familiar with the lifestyle. Does that mean…?

I shake my head. “No. I’m good.”

He nods once, slow and firm. “Good. Go on then. Get in bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”

I hesitate just long enough to see him pull a hoodie over his head and shove his feet into boots before he steps out the door.

The second it closes behind him, I hurry upstairs, my feet barely making a sound against the wood.

The bed is massive. Plush. Safe. And best of all,warm. I climb into it and pull the blankets up to my chin, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet while my pulse races in my ears.

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