Exposed Exposed (Dom Nation #1) - E. Davies Page 0,64
my fingers down his bare skin, soothing the frenetic energy I felt under his skin. “Good boy.”
I was enveloped by those strong arms and the warm skin behind my back.
For the first time in a long time, I felt small, but in a very different way. Not the empty coldness of staring out at all the offices and apartments of the starless city sky. Not the humiliation of a man trying to challenge my authority.
Warm, personal, safe.
Slate’s lips pressed the back of my neck. “Your safeword?” he whispered.
“Mine?” I exclaimed. If I’d had any more energy, I might have recoiled so hard his nose would be in danger again.
“I’m pushing you out of your comfort zone, too,” Slate murmured. “I want you to feel as safe as I do.”
I drew a long, deep breath and shook my head slightly. For a guy who claimed to have so little experience, his intuition was some freaky powerful shit. “If I tell you to stop, you can assume that means stop,” I told him. “I don’t have that desire to make stop mean more.”
“That’s much handier than me,” Slate said with a self-deprecating little chuckle. “Okay. Thank you, Daddy.”
It was the exact right thing to say, and I lost any doubt about his submissive instincts. He knew how to handle me. I just wasn’t sure if I should be pleased or terrified of that fact.
“Yes,” I murmured. “And thank you.”
Slate squeezed me gently, his thumb stroking one of my ribs in a way that threatened to lull me to sleep on the spot. “How’s this? As awful as you imagined?”
A tiny, exhausted giggle escaped me as I shifted around to find a comfortable place for my arms. “It’s not the worst,” I whispered back.
Slate chuckled. “Good night, my Daddy.”
My Daddy. It was very clear he was looking for more than just my earlier promise—which seemed laughable in retrospect—to be his Daddy just for tonight.
Yeah. I could promise him a hell of a lot more than that.
“Good night, my boy,” I whispered. And then I let go of everything, and allowed Slate’s warm breath on my skin to tease me free from my body like wind on a dandelion, and send me to a deep and dreamless sleep.
11
Slate
“Today’s selection of our finest toothbrushes.” I held out five different colors of toothbrush and offered my young patient an outrageous bow. “Please, accept one with our compliments.”
Hannah giggled and folded her arms, pretending to scrutinize them. “I thiiiink…” She trailed off. Then she hummed, squinting at them as she made this very important choice. “Purple,” she finally decided.
I shuffled the others into one hand and offered her the purple toothbrush. “Very good choice,” I said with a serious nod.
“Purple’s my birthstone,” she informed me.
“Ah! Matching.” I nodded to her. “I’m lucky if my socks match in the morning.”
She squinted down and then giggled, clutching her toothbrush to her chest. I swapped a grin with her mother, who looked slightly more optimistic about her chances of getting the eight-year-old to brush every night.
“You’re all done, then. Well done today,” I told her, offering a hand for a high five. “You were really brave.”
Hannah high-fived me and beamed. “See you, Mr. Slate!” Then she scurried for the doorway and cast her mother an imploring look. “Come on, Mom. I have art class.”
My lips twitched in amusement at her busy schedule.
Diane grabbed both of their jackets and stood up. “Thank you,” she said, the relief clear on her face. “My dentist growing up was… well, nothing like you guys. I’m glad you’re here for her.”
I nodded, understanding instantly. One bad experience could scar for life. I specialized in kids and nervous clients—anyone who needed more time and patience. It was so rewarding helping people get the care they needed, especially when I could set them up for life with positive impressions.
Sure, I did get bitten a little more than my colleagues, but that meant unexpected afternoons off now and then.
“My pleasure,” I said, showing them to the door and holding it for them both. I waved back at Hannah and then turned my attention to tidying up the room. I liked to be ready for the first appointment after lunch. That way, I could enjoy every minute of my break guilt-free.
By the time I made it to the staff room, Pam was already there, clogging the air with her awful tuna salad.
“Jeez,” I groaned, theatrically clapping a hand over her mouth. “Is it tuna day again already?”