If he let her go home, she’d no doubt try to take on everything herself. That wasn’t happening.
“You’re really miserable, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he said sympathetically.
“Yes.” She sniffled pathetically. “My stomach is sick. I’m all hot and gross. I know I’m squishing you right now only I’m too tired to move. And I really have to pee.” That last word was pretty much a wail, and he had to bite back a grin at how disgruntled she sounded. He didn’t want her to think he was laughing at her. Besides, what she’d said was not a laughing matter.
“First of all, you are definitely not squishing me. Why you seem to think you’re so big, I don’t know, but that’s going to stop.”
“You sound like—" She bit her sentence off, looking away. Her shoulders had tightened.
“Like who?” he asked quietly. “Your boyfriend?”
She shrugged.
He breathed out a sigh of irritation. “Kinley when I ask a question I expect a verbal response.”
She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. But there was also a hint of recognition. Of understanding.
Hmm. Her boyfriend wasn’t a Dom. Of that he was damn sure. But perhaps there had been a Dom in her past. But what kind of self-respecting Dominant would let her go? Unless he’d just trained her. If he had, James wasn’t certain her training was that thorough. He could remedy that, though.
Surprisingly he found himself looking forward to that. He hadn’t trained anyone since Sarah. Hadn’t taken a sub since her. He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of a sub again. Until Kinley. Being her Dom would be more than just dominating her during sex. It meant more than just giving her p
leasure. It meant taking care of her. Watching over her. Putting her first. Always.
He’d taken note of the fact she hadn’t given him a list of people willing to look after her earlier when he’d offered to call someone for her.
Sympathy filled him. He knew what it was like to have no one but he was an asshole who pushed people away. He didn’t want anyone close. Or at least he hadn’t in the past.
Kinley was sweet and kind. She should have dozens of people she could call on to help her. So why didn’t she? Was it because of that asshole boyfriend?
She squirmed on his lap, bringing him back to her current predicament. He slid her off his lap then stood, reaching down he pulled her up into his arms.
“James!”
“Do not,” he warned her. “I’m going easy on you because you’re not well. But I do have a limit and I don’t want to hear anything derogatory about your beautiful body.”
She was silent, and he glanced down to see her staring up at him, wide-eyed. He gave her a firm look before setting her down next to the toilet in the spacious guest bathroom.
“Do you need help with your clothes?” he asked politely.
“No,” she squeaked, grabbing at the waistband of her worn jeans as though she expected him to snatch them off her.
He turned to hide his grin. Funny how often he had to do that around her. Not something he’d done that much in the last few years.
“Um, can you give me some privacy?”
No. He sighed. Stop being an ass.
“I’ll wait just outside the door. Call if you need me.”
“Pretty sure I can wipe my butt on my own,” she muttered. “And even if I couldn’t, I wouldn’t call you.”
He was certain she didn’t mean for him to hear any of that. Nevertheless, he turned at the door to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “Honey, I’ve been wiping my own ass for years. Pretty sure I can manage to take care of yours.”
Her eyes went wide then she pointed at the door, her finger shaking. “Go. Now.” Smart enough to know when he’d pushed too far, he left.
She couldn’t believe this. It definitely had to be one of the more surreal situations she’d ever ended up in. When she was finished on the toilet, she cleaned herself up, thank you very much, then made her way to the sink to wash her hands. She wobbled a little, her legs feeling far too weak to hold her up. Leaning against the counter, she stared at herself in the mirror.
Wow. She really did look like crap. She cupped some water in her hands and threw it over her face, ignoring the way it splattered on her smock and shirt. Wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone. Nope, that boat had definitely sailed.