Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants)

His head fell forward. “No, I’m fine. He just felt me up.”

A shiver ran through him, and I rubbed his back. “It’s okay. You’re fine now. I’ve got you. No one can hurt you anymore.”

Not his mother. Not his dad, and not that asshole who tried to take something he wasn’t interested in giving.

“I should go up to bed,” he said.

I slowly loosened my hold on him, reluctant to let him go. “Yes, do that. I’ll go to bed as well. If you need anything, let me know.”

When I didn’t move, he eyed me. “Are you coming?”

“I just have to check the locks before we turn in. Murray’s killer was never found, and I don’t want to take any chances. Go on up.”

“Good night, Daddy.”

“’Night, Ari. Sweet dreams.”

He climbed the stairs, and I checked the front door. I didn’t just check the doors, but I also tested the windows. Although I supposed anyone determined enough would be able to bust through the glass and make their way inside.

I trudged up the stairs, the day taking a mental toll on me. At my bedroom door, I stopped and stared at Ari’s. I wanted to check up on him to make sure he was still fine. No, I’d better not. God, these feelings were so confusing. I shouldn’t go anywhere near him.

I dragged my feet over to the bed and stripped the bed covers down. I sighed as I sank into the softness of the mattress. Falling asleep on the couch hadn’t been the smartest move, but at least everything was the way it should be now. I was in bed, and Ari was home, safe and sound.

In the early morning, my bladder woke me up. I shuffled to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the lights, and relieved myself. I returned to my bed, plumped up my pillow, and slid under the covers. My feet bumped against something hard.

I clicked on the bedside lamp. Ari was curled up at the foot of my bed, with his arms wrapped around his body. He was fast asleep, his face relaxed and so precious. I watched him sleep, protective instincts filling my chest. He must have been so scared that he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed.

I tucked the end of the sheet around him securely. He sighed, his eyelids fluttering open. I froze. Would he wake up fully and panic at the sight of me hovering over him?

“Daddy,” he whispered. Then his eyelids drifted back to a close. “Love you.”

It wasn’t the first time he told me he loved me. Why I suddenly felt lightheaded was beyond me.

“I love you too, Ari.” Not the first time I’d told him this either, so why did it feel different this time? Why did it feel like so much more?