Sadie's Little Christmas - Maren Smith Page 0,38

What was her mood? Was she behaving okay?

Better than you, came Nanny J’s eventual and exasperated reply.

He couldn’t blame her. He was hovering, via text and from a distance, but hovering all the same.

He wished he had a monitoring system set up in his office, so he could peek in on her when the curiosity got to be too much. Was she playing with blocks, coloring with crayons, still standing awkwardly in the doorway where he’d left her that morning? Was it possible he was projecting onto her his own deep sexual preferences and desires? Maybe she wasn’t a Little. Maybe she was just an eighteen-year-old pain slut masochist who’d come from a hard life, who hugged her stuffie in order to self-comfort, and who had no trouble crying out to Daddy when she was flying so high in her own arousal, she wasn’t even thinking anymore, just responding.

Daddy, please take them off… Daddy, please hurt my bottom… Daddy, make me bite the pillow and teach me to be good… Daddy, please, please, please…

God, she’d been so hot last night. He really, really hadn’t wanted to have sex with her, but seeing her, listening to her spin her fantasy out loud, whimpering and pleading out of her need for him, he just couldn’t help himself.

Good intentions be damned, he already knew tonight he was going to take her again. Tonight, she would be whimpering, mewling, and coming with Daddy’s mouth and cock plundering her sweet body.

Maybe he should just call it a day and meet her at the nursery for lunch? The plan had been to spend the day apart, get some work done, and give her the space she’d surely need, not just to explore her Little side, but to process without him looming over her and possibly muddying her thoughts in directions, she might really not want to go. So much for his getting work done. He could barely think of anything except her.

He pulled out his cell to check again if he might have an update from Nanny J, but it was the phone on his desk that beeped twice just before the speaker engaged.

“Mr. Hawkins,” interrupted Erika from the reception area. She sounded nervous, which immediately got Derek’s attention. “There’s a detective Dan Forrester here to see you. It’s, um…” her voice lowered to a whisper, “it’s about Sadie.”

Derek put his phone away, more than a little surprised.

“Send him in.”

A detective? Really? He’d been under the impression the investigation over Sadie’s assault was over. They had the guy who’d hurt her in custody. Had caught him, in fact, in the act of dumping evidence. Why would a detective be tracking her all the way out here now?

When his office door swung open, Derek came out from behind his desk to greet the middle-aged man. About his own age, the detective was a little shorter, although Derek was used to that. He wasn’t as broad in the shoulders either, but Derek was used to that as well, and if the man had a little more paunch around his middle… well, that pretty much came with being a city boy.

“Mr. Hawkins,” the detective greeted, sticking out his hand. “Dan Forrester. How you doing today?” The detective’s handshake was firm, and he was smiling, but it didn’t take a policeman to notice that his smile never quite traveled as far as his eyes.

“Detective,” Derek returned politely, now more curious than ever why he was being visited. More than that, though, there was something familiar about the other man’s name. He couldn’t remember where, but he was certain he’d heard it before. “How can I help you?”

“I came to see Sadie, actually. I’ve got a few questions to ask her.”

How did he know this man? The familiarity kept tickling at him and was followed by such a feeling of caution, Derek made no move to have Sadie summoned.

“I’m sorry, I was under the impression the investigation was over. You have her roommate.”

“Yes, we do,” Forrester gamefully agreed. “I’ve got to admit, though. I’m awfully surprised to find her in a place like this. Especially so soon after what happened.”

“Perhaps a place like this is exactly where she needs to be. She won’t be judged—”

That was when it snapped into focus. This was the detective Jared had told him about, the one who’d told Sadie she deserved what had happened to her. His curiosity died abruptly beneath a swift-rising wave of protective ire. He hid it under a slow chuckle that