Page 7 of Ace

For a moment, when Lizzie’s eyes met his, he swore he saw something there. A yearning. A longing. A need. When she said she didn’t want to go, thousands of fantasies flitted through his head on a silent-movie reel.

He shook his head as if to remove the images and quickly recovered. “What do you mean you don’t want to go home?”

Her tongue peeked out between her lips, wetting them. He saw her breasts heave with each breath through the thin fabric of her shirt. She lifted one hand and rested it palm face down on his pec. “I’m not ready to leave. I want to… talk.”

There was so much innuendo packed into that one word it almost suffocated him. “What do you want to… talk… about?”

Her gaze faltered. The heaving stopped as if her breath had ceased, and her hand pulled away from his chest for a moment before returning to his muscle.

“What do you think about it here? About… all of it?” she finally asked. “The Little stuff… the Daddy stuff. What do you think about it?”

Frowning, he scrunched his brows together. Why was she asking? He searched her gaze with his, looking for judgment or hatred, anger or disgust, finding nothing but curiosity. He had to admit, he was curious too.

“I think, ya know, I’m here surrounded by it. It’s hard not to be curious sometimes… to wonder, but it’s a place mostly for established partners so it’s not really providing any curiosity-whetting opportunities.”

Her free hand caught his unbandaged one and held it, wrapping their fingers together. She squeezed. “That’s a damn shame,” she whispered. “Because I’m also very, very curious.”

“What do you think of it all?” he asked, just to make sure he wasn’t seeing zebras where horses really existed.

Lizzie licked her lips and he realized this was the first time he’d ever been close enough to her to see just how perfectly bow-shaped her lips really were. The first time he’d been close enough to notice she smelled like a mixture of watermelon and cotton candy with just a hint of vanilla. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His cock hardened in his jeans as he waited for her answer. Up to this point his curiosities had been nothing more than passing thoughts, but he swore if she said she was interested… well, just call him Daddy.

Her lips parted, falling open just barely and her gaze shuttered under long lashes as she looked up at him. “I think… I really want to see a bit more of the place. And I think”—she paused and swallowed, her eyes darting about the room as if searching for confidence—“I think if you wanted to be curious together… I’d be cool with that.”

“Oh would you?” His voice was deep, tinged with lust. He could see her nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “You want to be a Little girl? You want me to be your Daddy?”

He watched the muscles in her throat constrict as she looked away, gulping hard. And just when he thought she was about to tell him to get lost, she said “Yes, please.”

Well damn. He didn’t know how to be a Daddy exactly. But in that moment, he sure as hell wanted to.

What would Axel do? What would Baze do? What about Knox? Those were the questions running through his mind, but he didn’t know Baze and Knox well enough to know the answer, and he didn’t pay close enough attention to Axel in the context of his relationship with Jilly. He racked his brain for something Axel might have told him that would give him an idea of where to start, but all he could remember was the death glare Axel had given him the first day Jilly had shown up at the club and a few random stories involving glitter. Nothing to go off of.

Daddies were protective, nurturing, stern, and doting. He was pretty sure he could be all of those things when natural circumstances prompted. These were not natural circumstances. This felt forced. He wasn’t ready. He needed time to mentally and physically prepare. Even if it was just playing around or satisfying mutual curiosities, he wanted to not go in blind and half-cocked. He didn’t want to fumble this.

He had to step up and be a Daddy. Brushing a stray hair behind her ear, he cupped her face with one hand and leaned his forehead against hers. “Okay, I’m the Daddy. Your Daddy. And as your Daddy, tonight, I’m going to take you home. To your own home,” he clarified when a happy sigh escaped her lips and she tried to push them against his.

Lizzie frowned. “Okay, but…”

He shushed her with one finger pressed against those same soft lips.

“I’m the Daddy,” he repeated.

“I know, but…”

He cut her off with a click of his tongue. “No. Stop. Listen.”

She obediently closed her mouth and he bit back a smirk. If she was that quick to obey, this would be easy-peasy. As Jilly would say, lemon-squeezy.

“It’s been a long day for both of us. There’s a lot of emotion and adrenaline rushing through us both, and I’m not saying I’m gonna change my mind; I’m not planning to. But you might.”

She shook her head emphatically back and forth and he rolled his eyes, throwing a hand up to stop her before she could argue.

“I hope you don’t, Lizzie. I really hope you don’t. But regardless. This is new for each of us. We shouldn’t rush into it on a whim. We need to make sure it feels right and I need to prepare. I’ve never done this before.”

She still wanted to argue. It was as plain as the nose on her face, but to her credit, she clamped her mouth shut with a decisive nod and conceded to his newly-acquired role. “Yes, Daddy.”

The two simple words and the sweet earnest sincerity with which she said them made his heart… and other things swell. Leaning close, he bent to capture her lips and kissed her gently, pulling away when she went in for more.

“Good girl,” he whispered. They stood like that for a moment, close enough to touch but not touching, both their chests heaving with lustful breaths, thin sheens of sweat covering their brows. Finally, he pulled away and dropped her hand. “Give me your phone,” he commanded.