Sadie's Little Christmas - Maren Smith Page 0,18
going to lay every last one of those fears to rest.
He would leave no inch of her untouched—or unloved—and he would do it without taking advantage of her trust or her body, at least until he was sure she knew exactly what she’d signed over to him.
No matter what, he was going to keep his pants zipped tonight—Derek kissed the top of her head again—even if it killed him.
Chapter 4
“I hate it,” Sadie said, staring at her reflection in the mirror of the dressing room of Rawhide Ranch’s clothing store. It wasn’t a big store. From what she could see, the clothing options were… eclectic.
“I think you look adorable,” Derek said, brushing her hair into a perfect part for twin pigtail braids.
“Yeah, but you’re weird.” As he snort-laughed, her fingers fiddled with the hem of her plaid Rawhide Ranch ‘school’ uniform skirt. She’d spent her entire life rushing to grow up so she could get out of school, only to end up right back in it. “I look like I’m twelve.”
He stifled a sigh. “You do not.”
“I do, too.” She frowned at her reflection, not sure she liked any part of it. He’d even made her take her makeup off. She’d been wearing makeup since she was fourteen. She felt naked without it, and her ‘babyface’ features were definitely showing. No, she definitely wasn’t sure about this at all. “The more you do to me, the younger I look.”
A corner of his mouth quirked, but he didn’t bother replying.
Well, fine. If he didn’t care, she wasn’t going to either. She folded her arms across her chest, openly glaring now.
“Go ahead, keep braiding. Just don’t come crying to me when all of a sudden I turn into a sperm-nibbled egg cell right here in front of you. I mean, can’t we grow this up a bit?” She plucked at the hem of her skirt, trying to see what it would look like, drawn up like a miniskirt.
Derek swatted her, and it was at once both delicious and a tad too ouchie.
She caught her breath, both hands flying back in belated defense of her once more throbbing bottom. She frowned at him. It had only just stopped hurting. Still, without a word, he finished braiding her hair.
“There.” Stepping back, he eyed his handiwork while she rubbed the sting he’d reignited and tried hard not to let the heat blossoming low in her belly rise all the way up to stain her face. Especially if he might notice it. “Like I said, you’re adorable.”
She couldn’t help herself. “For a twelve-year-old.”
“Would you like to take it off?” he asked, a difficult to decipher edge creeping into what was otherwise a perfectly solicitous question.
The silkiness of his tone probably should have tipped her off, but the chance to get out of this awful school uniform was just too good not to jump at.
“God, yes!”
Turning away, he opened the dressing room door to let them both out. “Let’s see what we can do. Right this way.”
She fell into step behind him, even giving a little skip. Not only was she in the clothes for it—when in Rome and all that—but she was going to get her way and get out of them. Hopefully, they’d be able to find something suitable in this weird story.
She settled in behind Derek, following him through the densely packed aisles of clothing. The entire back wall was dedicated to uniforms like the one she was wearing. Everywhere else, however, was… well, worse. Although sized for full-grown adults, ‘young’ was the overwhelming theme of the place.
From light-up sneakers to Mary Jane buckle shoes, and short pants to babydoll dresses, everything was geared to appeal to… Littles, Sadie realized, reaching out in spite of herself to finger the lacy ruffle on a pale blue-and-white trimmed Alice-in-Wonderland style dress. She might not have had much exposure to Little things before she’d come here, but she was definitely getting an education now.
Except the more she saw, the stronger the urge became to belittle it. To push it away and separate herself from it all—the nursery, the Daddy talk, the clothes on these racks, and the books and toys in the front of the store, where it became more of a gift shop than a clothing outlet.
She took her hand off the dress before the unwanted longing inside of her could grow any more shameful. It was pretty, though, and with a skirt that came down barely far enough to cover the wearer’s panties, it was