"You don't have to—"
"Girls need food," James replied, cutting her off and looking back at the waiter. "Don't you agree?"
The man bobbed his head but looked unsure at the question. "I mean, yes, everyone does."
James held up a finger. "But especially little girls. So bring as much as you think she can eat."
"Right away." The server looked at Ashley and then asked, "Do you like pork?"
She nodded. "Love it."
"Awesome. Just wait!" He exclaimed and hightailed it away from their table before Ashley could ask what he meant. She bit her lip and shifted in her seat, looking at James.
"You didn't have to do that," she told him.
He shrugged and poured a glass of water from the jug that sat on the table. "You've never had it. We may as well find out what you do and don't like, right?" His question was innocent, but it kicked Ashley's brain into hyper drive because, yes, they should know what she liked or, rather, she should know.
"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," she told him, fiddling with her glass of water.
"Oh?" James fixed her with a knowing look, and Ashley ducked her head.
"Yes. I, ah, well, I wanted to talk to you about us." She took a hasty sip of her water and then looked back up at him to see that he was still silently regarding her, not looking like he'd moved an inch. "I want something more."
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I do, too."
"But," she licked her lips, and her eyes slid away again, "not a relationship."
He frowned. "Then, what?"
"I want you to teach me, but not be my—"
"Be your Daddy?" His voice was full of disapproval, prompting her to look back up at him.
"Yes, I'd want more of a teacher role for you."
He sighed and let out a bitter laugh. "I find the sweetest, most perfect little girl, and I can't manage to hold on to her."
"James, that's not—"
He looked back at her. "And it's all my fault."
She fell silent then. "It's no one's fault," she finally whispered.
"It is," he said, reaching out to snag one of her hands in his. "I did this. If I had recognized what you were, if I had taken the time to see it, then you'd be my princess."
Her face flushed. "James—"
"But if this is what you want, then I'll do it. I'll teach you, honey. Tell me what you need from me."
"Discipline." Her fingers tightened on his. "I need structure and rewards because I-I don't like punishments. I need confidence because I'm still so scared." She sucked in a deep breath because it felt like her chest was being split open and the contents of her heart were spilling across the table, all of her insecurities laid bare for James to see, but still she went on.
"I don't respond to being hurt or talked to harshly. I just, I want someone to be firm but sweet with me."
He nodded, fingers rubbing her skin gently. "I can do that, honey. I'll only use gentle corrections, no pain, except, then comes the matter of punishments."
Her eyes widened at the mention of punishments. "What do you mean?"
James leveled a serious stare at her. "If you break rules, then we need to have consequences."
"What kind of rules?"
"Ones that keep you safe, healthy, and happy. You will be getting enough sleep, eating correctly, not taking risks with your health, or making reckless decisions. That includes alcohol."
She flushed and bristled slightly at the way he said alcohol. "I don't drink to excess."
"The last time I saw you drinking, you were," he pointed out.
Ashley crossed her arms, lips pressing into a thin line. "And yet you still took me to bed."
He sighed and nodded. "I did."
"You even made me a drink."
Again, another nod. "I did that, too."
"So what makes it special now?"
"Now, you're asking me to teach you, yes?"
She bit her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes at him. "I am."
"Then I am going to be enforcing the same rules I would on my little on you. You don't get special treatment to behave badly just because you aren't mine." His voice dipped on that last word, held onto it like honey did to a spoon, and somehow, it sounded dangerous when James said it. That 'mine' lingered between them like a promise and she did her best to breathe evenly as he let his eyes rake over her with a look that was unmistakable as anything but lust.
James wanted her. Truly, desperately, wanted her.
She picked up her water glass and toyed with it before taking a hasty sip. "And what if-if I was yours? What would you do if I broke those rules?"
"I'd spank you," he said without preamble, and she nearly spit out the water she'd been sipping.
"What?" she asked, eyes wide and cheeks turning hot as she suddenly thought of what it might be like to be spanked by James. Before James, Ashley had never engaged in anything wilder than girl on top, and while their night had been passionate—wild, even, for her—she hadn't received more than a playful swat from the man. To think of him taking her over his knee for something she had done was another level she hadn't considered.
James leaned over the table, his gray eyes looking nowhere but at her, and she felt a glow of pleasure at commanding all of his attention. No one else existed outside of their bubble, and she felt a smile pull at her lips despite her trepidation at his next words. Whatever he was going to say next, she would agree to. She knew it, if only to have him continue staring at her like he was.
"I would take you." He tugged her hand closer to him, forcing her to lean closer.
She felt like she might pass out from the lack of space that now existed, their knees brushed and her pulse hummed.
"And have you over my knee—"
"And then?" the words slipped out breathier than she meant, but she didn't have it in her to care.
"And then I'd flip up your skirt."
"I'm not wearing a skirt."
"You would be, then," he said, grinning at her and raising her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. "Your cute little ass would be right there in my lap, just squirming and waiting for me, because I know you want it, even if you want to tell yourself you don't deserve it."
"I, ah," she stumbled over her words and then cleared her throat. "What would you do then."
"I'd pull those sweet panties of yours down and have you count out the strokes for me."
"You would make me count?"
"To keep us both honest, yes. You would count for me, wouldn't you? Like a good girl?"
Ashley found herself nodding before she could stop herself. "Yes."
He kissed her again, lips dragging over her knuckles before he nipped her skin lightly, making her jump. "Good girl. I'd give you your strokes and then… then, I'd make you feel good."
"How?"
"Lotion, massages, I'd pick you up and carry you to bed, put you there nice and sweet next to me and tell you that you did so good for me. That I loved how brave you had been for me and then I'd give you what I know you want."
She dropped her eyes to his mouth, watching his tongue move along his bottom lip. "Which is what?"
"My cock."
Her eyes widened, and she looked up to see that he was watching her intently. "I do want that," she told him with a shaky laugh. "I want it now."
"I know."
She blushed and ducked her head. "Taking risks with myself would make you spank me?"
He hummed. "It would. There's no way around it. I'd warn you, sweetie. I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, but if you didn't listen, I'd have to stop it."
She nodded. "That seems reasonable."
"Alcohol is something you do not abuse. I want you safe."
"Even if I'm with you?"
"Even then," he said, his voice sharp, making sure she was paying attention. "Do you understand?"
"Yes. I'll be responsible. There's a group outing with the production crew this coming week. I will be going out then
and drinking. It's expected."
"Then I expect you to use your best judgement. Do you understand me?"
"Yes." She paused when she didn't know what to call him. Daddy was far too intimate of a thing. They both knew it. "What do I call you?"
"Sir, if you prefer it, but I'll let you call me anything you want, honey."
She held fast to his hands and worked to keep her voice even, but it was hard with the thread of excitement that was humming through her like lightning. "I can do, Sir. I like Sir."
"Thank you, honey. Do you want me to call you anything special?" he asked.
"I like it when you call me that," she said and then smiled at him. "I don't know if I need more than you've given me. I just want to know you approve of me. I need someone to show me how to work through my fear, and to know that I can be stronger. Be better."
"Why do you want to be better, little one?" His voice was low, hypnotic, and it set off a heat in her core that Ashley almost didn't recognize, so primal was her need for this man that she could scarcely comprehend. She was suddenly greedy for this. She wanted every last bit of his attention and anything else wouldn't do, couldn't do, not when she could have it all. She raised her eyes to his.
"I want to finally get what I want in life."
"And what is that?"
"I want," she swallowed hard, working to get the words out around the lump in her throat, "all of your attention. I'm tired of being in the background. I hate it."
"You want to be front and center. Have it all from me?"
"Yes. More than anything. When I saw those women talking to you earlier, I thought I was going to die, but when you looked at me and didn't care about them, it was amazing. I wanted it to go on and on."
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and Ashley felt herself grow wet. There was no denying the damp spot that would be evident on her panties if anyone, if he, looked. "Can you handle that, baby girl? All of me?"
She ventured a smile. "I won't know if I don't try, now, will I?"
He chuckled and then leaned back, their hands separating as the server approached with a tray full of food. "No, I guess we won't. I accept."
She blinked in surprise. "You do?"
He gave her a perfunctory nod. "I do."
"Why?" she managed after a beat.
"Because you're worth it, little one."
* * *
Dinner was amazing. Dinner was perfect. It was everything a good date should be when you were in those early days of something new and special with a potential partner, except what Ashley had with James wasn't that. It was something different. They were different.
He wasn't her partner. He was her teacher.
She followed him out of the restaurant on a cloud of air and led him toward her apartment. All of it was happening in a dreamy state that made the summer night even more magical. Ashley wanted nothing more than to make tonight last forever, which is why she shyly asked him to come upstairs.
"You don't have to," she quickly said, cheeks hot. "But if you wanted to, I would—"
"Call me Sir." His hand cupped her face and his fingers were light on her skin as he turned her face up to his. "Say it for me, honey."
"Sir."
"Ask again."
"Will you come upstairs, Sir?"
James hummed his approval and moved close, his lips only centimeters from hers. "Can I kiss you?"
"Yes."
He pressed his mouth to hers, slanting their lips to each other as he lazily explored her mouth.
Her hands came up to grasp his shoulders as she moaned into his mouth. "So good for me."
He pressed another kiss against her lips, this one chaste, before he took her hand and moved her toward the door. "Show me the way, little one."
And on shaky legs and with a hammering heart, she'd done just that. Up the four flights to her apartment and through her blessedly silent and dark apartment with whatever damage her roommates had done to the place in their partying the day before. Uttering a silent prayer, she let him into her room, and only when she had the door shut behind them, did she let out a shaky breath. She turned, reaching for the string of lights she had strung up in the room in an attempt to make the space more inviting and plugged them in. Instantly, the room transformed into a warm and soft place that had James nodding in approval.
"You made it nice in here, little girl," he told her, his voice rolling over her like warm caramel, and she couldn't help but preen under his attention.
"Thank you, Sir," she murmured, looking away when she wasn't sure what to do with her hands. James sat on her bed and crooked a finger at her.
"Come here."
Ashley's feet were moving before she knew it, and then she was standing in front of him nervously.
"Shh," he soothed, running a hand up her arm and giving her a soft smile. "It's okay. Relax and breathe. Eyes on me, baby. Can you do that?"
"Okay," she whispered. "I can do that."
"That's a good girl," he praised her, lifting his other hand to run along her side, and then he was pulling her forward and into his body so that she stood between the space of his open legs. She shivered when he kissed her on the side, right above where his hand was pressed against her hip, and he stopped, leaning back to look up at her.
"Is this okay?"
"Yes." She nodded her head and lifted her hands until they were resting on his broad shoulders. "It's more than okay. It feels nice."
"Good." He kissed her again, mouthing at her flesh through the fabric of her shirt. "What safeword would you like? Tell me what you don't want."
"Pineapple?" she offered, and he chuckled lowly against her side. "I don't want, well, I don't know. I know I want you," she told him, chest starting to rise and fall in gasps as she continued to speak her words that were tumbling over one another as they came faster. "I know I want you to fuck me."
James froze, his hands tensing on her body for a moment before he spoke. "I do not just fuck you, honey. Watch your mouth."
She colored at that, but James kept speaking. "I make love to you. I don't want to hear you use that language again. Little girls do not cuss."
"Okay," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Shh." His hands urged her down onto the bed, and then he was leaning over her. "Don't worry, baby. We won't talk about that anymore. Let me take care of you."
She nodded at him, not trusting herself to speak, and let him slide between her legs until he was pressed up against her, his hips flush against hers, legs hugging his sides as he braced himself on his forearms and painted her neck with kisses.
"I'm going to do exactly what you want. Tell me, and it's yours." His words were an echo of Natasha's earlier observation, and Ashley trembled at the note of outright desire and devotion she heard in his voice. It was unreal, dizzying, outright intoxicating how much the man wanted her, but bit by bit, kiss by kiss, he pushed past her walls and she relaxed into his touch.
"You feel like heaven," he murmured, hands gently lifting up her shirt, and when she lifted her arms for him to pull it over her head, he let out a sigh that could only be described as adoration.
"Thank you," he sighed, slipping the garment over her head and tossing it away. "You're so good to me, baby girl."
"I like being good to you," she whispered, turning her face so that they were staring at one another, his gray eyes to her brown ones, and he groaned low in his throat while he smoothed a thumb across her bottom lip.
"Such a lovely girl. You know that, right?"
She shook her head no, and James sighed, eyes taking on a darker look. "Then I'll show you, sweetness. I'll show you."
"Do you promise?" she whispered, hands coming up to his shoulders.
He opened his mouth to say more, but a sudden crash from the living room had them both jerking apart. James sat up from where he had been lying over her, his body instantly coiled tight as he went into high alert.
"What's that?" He moved off the bed and left her bereft of his warmth. "Is s
omeone breaking in?" he asked, walking toward her door.
"No, that's just, ah," she sat up and gave him an embarrassed look, "that's probably one of my roommates."
His head jerked back to look at her in shock. "What do you mean, that's one of your roommates?" Another crash and a shrieked curse echoed through the apartment. "That person lives here?"
"They," she corrected, hearing Xander's high pitched laugh and reaching for her shirt, suddenly feeling like the moment between them had shattered, along with whatever Sarah and Xander had managed to destroy in their ill-timed entrance.
"They?" His eyes narrowed, and he turned back to the door with a frown. "There's more than one of them?"
She nodded. "I have three roommates."
"Three?" James's voice was incredulous, and she colored then, but not with the heat the man had been sending through her willing body for all the right reasons. This was for all the wrong, bad, and judgment filled reasons she'd sworn not to play into when she'd stopped dancing. Her family had judged her, and then her so-called friends she'd made as a dancer, with only Natasha treating her the same. Now James was looking at her in the same pitying look, and it angered her more than any of the others' disapproving looks ever had.
"You should go," she rasped, yanking her shirt down and nodding at the door. "This was a mistake."
His body went rigid, and he turned on his heel to face her entirely. "What?"
She cleared her throat and avoided his searching gaze. "I said, I think—"
A loud thump against her door made her shriek in shock, her hands clamping over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at the door.
James turned, once again, this time to face the door, and his stance widened into what Ashley supposed could only be described as fighter's. She swallowed past where her heart was now hammering in her throat and couldn't help but tremble when Xander's voice called to her through the door.
"Baby, are you home?" His voice had a sing-song quality to it, and she scooted back, further up her bed, trying to put as much distance between her and the man on the other side of the door as she could. James took a step forward and the floorboards creaked beneath him at the motion, prompting Xander to slap his hand against the door once more. "I knew it! Come out and play, baby. I can hear you."
Ashley: Little Girl - Book Two Page 7