Page 4

CHAPTER 3

CHARLEE

Phew . My heart and brain were working in direct competition with each other. My heart was not on board. Not when it came to being involved with Pierce in any capacity other than as a friend. Nope. Not even one bit. My brain was a tiny bit easier to convince. Logical Charlee knew having Pierce watch me for the next three weeks, helping with the production, and keeping me in line was a win-win situation all around. Emotional Charlee stomped her feet and screamed. Scratch that. My brat wanted to throw a full tantrum. That wouldn’t solve anything. And yet I understood the problem.

Pierce had lost his Little girl to a devastating disease. He hadn’t ventured into a relationship or dynamic of any sort since then. His heart was therefore heavily guarded. After all this time he seemed willing to explore with me. But was I willing to do the same?

“Are you going to punish me for not listening, Pierce? Uh, from yesterday? At the theater, I climbed a ladder. Alone. At night. I didn’t heed your warning earlier in the week. I got hurt.”

Pierce rubbed his mouth as he pulled into his neighborhood. He glanced at me once before making a left hand turn. There were gorgeous homes on every street pulling my attention outside the truck and our conversation even though it was important. Reminding myself to venture out more in Porter’s Corner seemed important. Too often I kept to my bubble on the Ranch and did not explore.

“No, Charlee,” Pierce said gruffly.

I shifted in my seat to look at him. He shook his head as if trying to dislodge his own nagging thoughts. Maybe he was as annoyed by my behavior as I was.

“I should have listened to you.”

“Yes, you should have, and I wish you did, but I can’t punish you for something you did before we establish anything.”

“Do you intend to make rules for me?”

“Yes, darling. If you agree. For the next three weeks you need frequent breaks to rest your wrist. I have a feeling you’re going to skirt the instructions the doctor gave you. Doing so won’t help you at all.”

“What exactly are you going to do if I don’t follow these rules?” My question didn’t clarify what the heart of my problem was, though I wasn’t sure I understood it myself. “I need to know how you’re going to keep me accountable.”

The mental image of Pierce tossing me across his muscled thighs, yanking down my pants and leaving my ass red and sore made me squirm against the passenger seat. He pulled the truck into a long driveway. It wasn’t steep but it seemed to stretch for a mile. The large log cabin came into view and I gasped. His knowledge of construction, architecture and materials crafted a masterpiece. The cabin stood out like a majestic beacon in an otherwise boring landscape. I was completely distracted by the rustic wood and rock textures featured on the outside. Warm, cozy vibes radiated off the structure alone. Something about it comforted me. Like when my family and I would camp in the mountains over the summer and I’d spy the cabin knowing how much fun we were about to have.

“I’m not ignoring you, Charlee. I guess it depends on what you neglected to do. It also depends on your limits. Discipline is in my wheelhouse as I’ve mentioned. You don’t believe me now, but your bottom will.”

“Noted.” I kept my flirty, bratty reply to myself. If he was looking for an excuse to lay me across his knee, I wasn’t going to give him one. Yet.

“Noted, hmmm? No sassy remarks in your reply?”

“Your home could be featured in Better Cabins and Woods …” I trailed off playing on the old magazine title my grandmother used to subscribe to. His porch was going to be my new favorite place to relax. A huge wraparound with inviting couches, wooden loungers, and small tables. Lights were strung along the top beams. At night it would feel even more relaxing when lit up. I couldn’t wait to spend more time here.

“Did the thought of me keeping you in line settle your mouth or is it something else?” Pierce held out his hand.

“I’ll let you know,” I said and winked. When Pierce put his words into action, I’d be very sore. And I’d love every minute of it. Well, maybe not in the moment but after? When I curled up in his lap, sniffling and promising to be a good girl? Then I’d enjoy it. Would we get there? My brat sure hoped so.

Following him into his gorgeous cabin, I oohed and ahhed appreciatively. Pierce had an incredible eye for detail. I grew more excited as he pointed out a huge window seat in the den. Sitting there provided a picturesque view into the lush woods and lake behind the cabin. Stepping onto the back porch, I admired the craftsmanship. It may have been because of my love of set design and crafts or simply to give my mind something else to focus on. Pierce nodded toward the swing offhandedly as if it wasn’t a freaking masterpiece. The two of us could lie down fully on the cushions with room to stretch out. It was lower to the ground and exquisitely crafted. Rubbing my fingers along the wood, I traced butterflies, flowers, vines and bumblebees. I’d never seen such incredible attention to detail. Sure, the finished pieces he’d shown me in the past were amazing, but the swing? The swing left them all in the dust. The longer I stared, the more I loved it. The cushions were customized to fit flush inside the bench style seat while being thick. I wondered if he removed them every night or if they magically stayed looking new.

I didn’t know why the piece spoke to me on so many levels. I avoided swings as a general rule. I’d fallen off them growing up and the kids on the playground had made fun of me. They’d said it was because of my weight. It wasn’t. I had two left feet which had prevented me from getting into dance or gymnastics like some of my friends. Clumsy would have been a compliment. It was like no matter what I was doing, I ended up with some sort of injury. Worse than all that, I hadn’t even been heavy at the time, but barbs burrowed deeply. Swings where you pumped your feet weren’t the same as a porch swing. Unfortunately, the same memories flooded into my brain. I needed to cut it out mentally. I was stocky more than overweight but uncomfortable in my own skin since I’d started crushing harder on Pierce. Admitting he wanted me, or at least had been thinking about sex last night hadn’t eased my nerves.

“It’s so lovely.” My voice cracked.

“Is there something about my swing making you cry?”

“No, it’s not like that. Uh, well it is like that. Can we sit out here for a few minutes?”

“Yes, we can. It’s not that cold out and I have blankets.” Pierce opened a door built into the base. He tugged out two huge sherpa blankets, shaking them out and holding the purple one out to me.

“Thank you.” I eyed the swing and then raised my gaze to him. Without having to explain myself, Pierce moved around me, lying down and opening his arms.

Shaking my head, I hesitated. Somewhere inside my brain I knew the structure was secure.

“It’s comfy,” he said as if the gorgeous space could be anything else.

“What if… you’re not... I’m not exactly tiny.” I tried to ask an awful question stuck in my brain along with justifying my size.

“Lie on me.”

“But–”

“I’m not going to entertain whatever is making your forehead crease, babygirl. Come here. I promise that you have nothing to be concerned about right now.”

Cautiously optimistic I laid down. Not anywhere near him, at least as far away as I could get in a swing.

“Charlee,” Pierce said, sighing. “It’s okay to take up space. It’s okay to exist in whatever shape and form you are. You’ve never acted this way around me. Can you please explain yourself?”

“No, not right now.”

Without warning, though I wasn’t really surprised, Pierce hooked an arm around my lower torso and shifted me until I had no choice but to snuggle into his body. With my nose pressed into the hollow of his collarbone I caught a whiff of something uniquely him. I’d been serious about how good he smelled when I’d complimented him at the cafe. A blend of rich, smoky sandalwood and crisp cedar, laced with a hint of freshly cut pine and warm, earthy leather. Arousal pooled in my body, my pussy growing damp inside my panties from his warm body and the way he held me to his side. I wasn’t a cologne connoisseur, but the combination created a fragrance as rugged as the wood Pierce carved. Maybe even as refined as the craft he perfected. It lingered even when we weren’t together like the memory of his well-used workshop, a dash of aftershave and a trace of cologne. His signature aroma plus his pheromones balanced between strength and subtlety. The scent always dragged me back to wondering what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms. And now I was. When had I buried my face into his neck?

“Are you trying to burrow into me, babygirl?”

“No, of course not. You, um, smell like home. I like being in your arms.”

His arms tightened around me as if he was determined to keep me there. “We have a lot to talk about. But I need to understand something first. Why are you acting self-conscious? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

Fretting, I glanced up into his face. Bad idea . His mahogany eyes appeared warmer at this distance and they were locked on me. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. I feel like at my height and weight, I can’t explore ageplay. Littles don’t look like me.”

He looked sad, his brows furrowed as he cupped my face. “Oh, Charlee.”

My statement felt true. Though it wasn’t. I knew and met and interacted with submissives and Littles who were all shapes, heights, and sizes. Besides, ageplay was separate and I knew that too. Yet I’d always wanted to “feel” small. To be cuddled and carried and coddled. A terrible thought wormed its way into my thoughts. I’d placed so much importance on my size that I overlooked the obvious. I ignored the reason behind it. The feelings that had eluded me were suddenly obvious. Cared for. Comforted. Cherished. Pierce, whether knowingly or not, had broken through the impenetrable wall guarding my emotions. Sniffling, I sat up, but he immediately pulled me to him again. Instead of fighting, I burrowed closer. We lay there with me in his arms for a long time not speaking while Pierce stroked my hair.

“I’m a dumbass,” I broke the silence and the tension.

“Say another mean thing about yourself again and you’ll get your mouth washed out with soap.”

“You are not in the sort of position to be responding with a punishment here. Especially not about the things I say regarding myself.”

“Maybe not, but implied consent is good enough between us. Unless it’s a limit, tell me now.”

I took a few deep breaths and let them out. “Crap. I hate when you’re right. Mouth soaping is not a hard limit.”

“Understood. No disparaging remarks, Charlene. Words become things. If you put yourself down verbally or otherwise you will act and feel from those beliefs instead.”

Pierce knew how to get under my skin in the best way possible. His repeated use of my full name instead of my nickname bothered me because I sat straighter. Or listened better. However, lying in his arms while he said it, made me want to cry. Instead, I resorted to tossing my brat at him. I knew how to interact that way.

“So, what? You want to be my Dom for three weeks, not forever. You don’t need to change my perception. You’re concerned about me resting my wrist, not bolstering my low self-esteem.”

“Feisty today,” he observed, chuckling. “I’m hoping by the time three weeks is over you’ll be mine. What do you think?”

“We aren’t compatible, Pierce. We–”

“Hang on. I can hear those wheels turning in your head.” Pierce sat up. “The temp’s dropped out of the blue. Let’s go inside. You can warm up by the fireplace while I make lunch.”

Reluctantly getting out of the swing, I waited for Pierce to lead us inside. This was really happening. It was either going to be the best three weeks of my life, or the worst decision I’d ever made.