Daddy in Cowboy Boots (Montana Daddies #9) - Laylah Roberts Page 0,61
booster seats and highchairs. And the way he’d just spoken to her . . .
Maybe that’s just the way he is, Marisol.
Now she felt ill. Like he was going to get insulted or tell her that was ridiculous.
“I am.”
Linc was a Daddy Dom.
Holy. Shit.
“I thought they were a myth. Like sasquatch. Or unicorns,” she muttered, staring at her food without really seeing it.
“You thought that Daddy Doms were a myth?” he asked in his deep voice.
“Um. Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve never met one.”
“That you know of,” he pointed out. “They don’t make us carry around badges. Or T-shirts that say, I’m a Daddy Dom.”
“It would be really helpful if they did,” she muttered.
“And what about the other way around?” he questioned.
“What do you mean?”
“Should Littles have a way of being identified? What would you wear if you wanted me to know that you are a Little?”
“You think I’m a Little?”
“You trying to tell me that you’re not?” he asked.
She licked her dry lips. “I don’t know . . . I mean, how do you know?”
“What do you know about Daddy Doms and Littles?” he countered.
“I have no real-life experience. I only know what I’ve read in books.”
“So you have read books with age play in them?”
“Umm. Yes.” They were only her favorite sort of books to read.
“And how did they make you feel? When you first read them, what did you think?”
“I thought that it was all fiction. That it couldn’t be real. But at the same time, I guess I hoped it was real because then that might mean that one day, I’d meet a Daddy Dom.” She kept her gaze on her food, which she’d barely touched. It sounded silly when she said it out loud.
But then again, she had met Linc, hadn’t she? So perhaps not such a foolish hope after all.
“I’m beginning to see that conversations while you’re eating should be kept light,” he said. Then he tapped her plate with his fork. “Eat up. Let’s talk about this after.”
She ate for a few minutes, everything she’d learned running through her head. Hadn’t Abby hinted at this earlier this afternoon. And the way she’d talked about Kent . . .
“Is Abby a Little?” She glanced up at him.
Linc narrowed his gaze. Shoot. Had she messed up?
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “Should I not ask those sorts of questions?”
“It’s not that you shouldn’t ask them. But it’s not something we would talk about with people who don’t live on the ranch. You’ve heard the rumors going around about the ranch from Mrs. Long.”
Oh. About the men spanking women on the ranch and not letting them do anything without permission.
“Abby seems really happy here. Not like she’s being held against her will or anything. Although she did say she was going to get in trouble if she didn’t get home and rest. Does that mean Kent would spank her?”
He’d just taken a sip of beer and he started to choke.
“Are you okay?” She jumped off her chair and rushed into the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. She handed him the glass, lightly patting his back as he sipped it. He placed it down then pushed his chair back. To her shock, he grabbed hold of her, bringing her onto his lap.
“Right. You need to eat. Or it won’t be Abby who has a red bottom.”
Her mouth dropped open at his words. “You’d spank me?”
He forked up some shepherd’s pie, feeding her. He didn’t answer until she ate it.
“First, answer a few questions for me. Are you a Little, Marisol?”
He’d answered her question. She couldn’t do any less, right? “I think so. But I’ve never had a Daddy. I don’t really know how it all works in real life. Or what I’ll like or dislike. Reading about something doesn’t mean I want to do it.”
He fed her again. “I get that. What do you like to read about?”
“I guess I’ve always loved books with protective men. It didn’t have to be a love interest. Books where the older brother or a friend took charge or protected the heroine has always been my thing. When I was fifteen, my aunt was reading this really sexy book. I remember being surprised because she didn’t read much.”
She looked away with a blush. “Turns out, she was using the book to get ideas for seducing husband number three or was it four? No, I think it was four. I’m not sure that number three could still, umm, get an