Tempted by her Daddies: Chapter 7

Roman was startled to find her in his room.

He didn’t know why. She was just here to clean. He’d actually gone downstairs, hoping to see her.

Urgh.

What was wrong with him?

Only problem was, she wasn’t cleaning. Instead, she was looking at his bookshelves. Which were filled with Daddy Dom books.

He could feel himself growing red. What was she going to think of him? He cleared his throat and she stood suddenly.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I was cleaning, I promise I was.”

She’d been here for over a week.

And in that time, he wasn’t sure that she’d done all that much cleaning. Not that he cared. He had managed to do some of the cleaning himself.

“It’s all right.” He held his hands up, concerned about why she was so jumpy.

“I was just looking at the books. I wasn’t going to touch them or anything.”

“It’s okay if you touch them,” he told her.

“Really?” Her face lit up.

“Sure. You can borrow some if you want to read them.”

She sighed sadly. “I’m not the best reader.”

Concern filled him. And he hated the flash of shame on her face. He knew what it was like to be ashamed of who he was, and he didn’t want her to feel the same.

“I could read one to you.” He winced as he said that. What a dorky offer. Like she was going to take him up on it.

“That would be amazing! Can we start with this one?” She drew out a CJ Bennett book which was one of his favorites. It was a western reverse harem with three daddies and one Little. Then she sat on the edge of his unmade bed.

“Um, now?” he asked as he walked over and took the book.

“Oh, sorry! Of course not now. You’re working and so am I.” She let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’ve got to go and do something downstairs, but maybe later.”

She raced off and chagrin filled him. Great. He’d embarrassed her.

Idiot.

Why didn’t you just read her the book? What would it have hurt?

“Wait! Tamsyn!” He ran through his bedroom and office, then out into the hallway. He saw her at the top of the stairs.

Was she going to slow down?

Bloody hell! She was going to hurt herself!

“Tamsyn!” He raced after her, getting to the top of the stairs just in time to see her slip over and slide down the last few steps. “Bloody hell! Are you all right?”

Of course she’s not all right, you knob!

He rushed down the stairs and crouched in front of her on the floor.

“Where does it hurt? Do you need an ambulance? I’m going to call one! Where is my phone?”

Lord. He sounded like a blathering idiot!

“I’m fine,” she groaned, pushing herself up so she stood. He held out his hands, not touching her but doing his best to be there in case she fell.

“Just a bit embarrassed, TBH.”

“To be honest? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he told her. “Although you really shouldn’t have been running down the stairs.”

Blathering badgers.

What was he doing, scolding her, when he was the one who had made her run?

“You need to sit down. I’ll get you some painkillers. Are you sure you’re not hurt? Does anything feel like it’s broken?”

“Definitely not broken. I know what broken bones feel like.”

“You do? Did you break a lot as a child?”

“Um, yes.” She gave him a strange look. “Also, I don’t need any painkillers.”

He followed her into the kitchen, watching her carefully. But she didn’t appear to be moving too stiffly. She sat on a stool at the kitchen island while he grabbed some painkillers and gave them to her along with a bottle of water.

Then he turned on the kettle and got out some cups.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said as she slid off the stool. “I have to get back to work.”

“Do not move,” he barked.

They both froze and she stood there, half on, half off the stool.

“I mean, sit.”

He really should be more careful with this new superpower.

“I don’t want you to work for the rest of the day,” he told her.

“But it’s only three.”

“You took quite a spill. You should rest. I’ll call you a cab to take you home after your cup of tea.”

A cup of tea could fix most things, he’d found.

“No need! I skated today.”

“You . . . skated today,” he asked as he made the tea.

“Yes.”

“To here? From home?”

“Well, yes. I mean I did have to take the underground for part of it. I did really well. Only fell over twice.”

“You must be covered in bruises!”

“It’s just bruises.”

He didn’t like how dismissive she was of injuries to her body. She should take them more seriously.

“I don’t want you to roller skate to work again,” he ordered. “Did you even have any safety gear on?”

Like you have any right to tell her that she can’t roller skate!

“Umm.”

That meant no. She could have seriously hurt herself.

“Or run down the stairs!”

Instead of telling him to bugger off as she likely should, she just gaped at him.

He set her tea out along with some sugar and milk.

“Oh, these cups are so pretty!”

“Thank you. They were my great-great-grandmother’s.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. Are all these other knick-knacks from your family?”

Amusement filled him. His mother would be horrified to hear antiques called knick-knacks.

“They are. This house belonged to my grandmother, and she left it and her estate to me.”

“Wow, that’s nice.”

“Hmm, my parents didn’t think so. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’d always been a disappointment to them. Not manly enough. No charisma. Weird . . . quirks.”

“Like what?” she asked as she made her tea with a good splash of milk and . . . four sugars?

Yikes.

“Do you always take your tea like that?” he blurted out.

“Yes. Why? And what quirks? ILQ.”

“Um, that one baffles me.”

“I Like Quirks.”

“Do you? Well, I have a particularly challenging one. I have trouble touching people.”

“You do? You touched me.”

Yes, and he’d liked it.

“I did. I can do it. I just don’t always feel comfortable. But I really have trouble with people touching me.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“As you can imagine that was hard on my mother in particular who couldn’t understand why her own son abhorred her touch. She took me to psychologists and doctors, and no one could work it out.”

“So that’s just who you are.” She shrugged. “Did she not accept that?”

“No, she didn’t. I was made to feel like I was . . . defective. By my parents and sometimes, my brothers.”

Great. Now she was going to pity him.

Give him empty platitudes.

“What assholes!” She slammed her hand down on the counter. “Give me their names.”

“Sorry?”

“I want names. I’m going to TTAL.”

It took him a moment. “Teach Them A Lesson?”

She nodded, looking like a fierce kitten.

“If anyone could, it’s you,” he told her. “But I have long since moved past what happened.”

Sort of.

With some lingering hang-ups.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good. I really should get back to cleaning.”

“How about you come read a book with me? Come on.”

“Are you sure? What about your work?”

“It will still be there later.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the couch in his office, with him reading to her from one of his Daddy Dom books.

He noticed that she was careful not to get too close to him.

Which he was both grateful and disappointed about.

However, it didn’t stop his body from reacting. He was used to this reaction while reading the books, but it seemed to happen quicker with her here.

And he hoped she didn’t notice.

“Wow this book is good,” she said when he took a break to take a sip of water.

“Isn’t it? Do you like Daddy Dom stories?”

“I’ve never read one before but I’m really enjoying this one.”

“You can get them in audiobook form too.”

“Oh, really? Wow. That sounds like fun. How does that work?”

“Ahh, well, I can download them onto your phone, and you can listen to them.”

“We could do that,” she said. “But I also like the way you tell the story. Your accent is so nice.”

“It is?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where are you from? You don’t even have much of an accent.”

“Oh, HTAE.”

“Uh, I’ve never heard of that place.”

She grinned at him. “Here, There, And Everywhere.”

“Of course. How silly of me. Well, I’ll gladly read you some each evening after you finish work if you like.”

“Epic!”

“The next book in this series is really great, although I haven’t seen it in some time. I don’t know how it’s gone missing.”

“Oh, maybe it’s in MGB’s bedroom.”

“MGB.

“Mr. Grumpy Butt,” she said.

“Who is that?” he asked through choked laughter.

“Alexei. Sorry, but Salem said everyone calls him that. Well, in their heads.”

“I guess that’s true. Why would my books be in his room?”

“I don’t know. I saw them in there. I am a bit sad about no more roller skating.”

Now he felt awful. “I’ll get you some safety gear.”

“Really?”

“And some mats. You can practice on the tennis court.”

She beamed at him. “Amazing! I better go. Thanks, Rome. I really enjoyed myself.”

Yes.

So had he. More than he could remember enjoying anything in a long, long time.