Page 20 of Protector Daddy

“No.” His quick denial made me wince again.

“How bad?”

“It was barely more than the tinkle of wind chimes.”

I snorted at that one. “Guess Boomer isn’t the only charmer around here.”

He moved over to the bed and got in behind me, tugging me and my new best friend backward until we were in the circle of his arms. Well, Boomer tipped over a little but he was as happy as I was for the extra snuggles.

Until we were found out.

“You’re shaking.”

I tried to simmer the hell down even as the thunder and light show continued. “Nuh-uh.”

I didn’t have many phobias, but naturally my number one fear had to show itself the first time I slept with this dude.

First and last, hello?

“Honey, tell me why you’re shaking.”

Somehow I was incapable of not being honest with him. I tipped my head back against his shoulder. “I’m kind of freaked out by storms.”

He stroked a hand down my hair. “How come?”

“Holdover from childhood. I’d always start crying at the sound of thunder and cover my ears, but I couldn’t block it out. Mav would always come in my room and put on heavy metal music so I couldn’t hear the storm anymore—which might’ve been a solid plan if he hadn’t done it in the middle of the night more than once.”

“Why can I see him doing that?”

“Because he’s always been a ball of chaos. But his heart was in the right place. To this day, whenever there’s a storm, I feel the need to play ‘Enter Sandman’.”

“I can play it if it’ll make you feel better.” He held up his phone.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? Boomer could use some storm tips and tricks too.”

“Maybe try one of those thunder shirts? They help some dogs.”

“Yeah, I should. I usually just wrap him in a blanket and try to distract him with puppy TV.”

“Puppy TV? I’ve only heard of that for cats.”

“Mostly contains bunnies and other random vermin that make Boomer think he’s king of the jungle.”

“Aww. Does Daddy tease you?” I rubbed along his neck, smoothing his fur as his eyes rolled back in his head in doggy bliss. I grinned and tossed a glance over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes at the way Christian was studying me.

It wasn’t the look of a man who’d been thoroughly sexed. And the area between my thighs threw up a white flag preemptively.

“Nope. No way. I’m not going down that road again.”

He cocked his head and arched a brow innocently. “What road?”

“I’m out of practice.”

“Me too.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, but your practice involves treating my tender parts like a penis trampoline.”