Page 89 of Stolen Voices

“There wasn’t much in your dressing room, but I have this for you to wear.” I hand Callie the shirt and pants.

A small smile lifts her lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you mind helping me?”

“Did you think I was going to let you get dressed alone?” I grab the white shirt from her hands.

“I, uh, I don’t know.”

“You’ll learn.” I slip the collar around her neck, and she pulls her arms through the holes. The fabric falls to the tops of her thighs, covering her just enough that when the towel slides to the floor, her pussy is covered.

Callie looks at me with probing eyes. “What will I learn, Eli?”

Next, I grab the blue flannel pajama pants and squat down. Holding open the leg holes, she slides her legs into pants, and the unfamiliar fragrance of vanilla and lemon wafting off her skin makes my nose itch. I miss her sweet wildflowers and sugar signature scent.

I make a mental note to order the toiletries she likes, so she doesn’t have to smell like the handmade shit my sister-in-law’s mother makes. I want Callie to be comfortable while she recovers.

“To let me take care of you.” My knees crack as I stand, and it’s a staunch reminder of my age. I glance down at Callie’s youthful, innocent features and shake the negative thought away.

With all I’ve got, I recall the feelings of fear and remorse that shook me when I thought I was going to lose her. If I let her slip through my fingers, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

Callie’s it for me, I remind myself.

“But—”

“Enough,” I cut her off, pulling back the duvet and pointing at the pillows. “It’s time for bed.”

“You can’t just tell me what to do and expect me to do it.”

Oh, but I do, princess. Especially in the bedroom. You’ll learn.

Callie crosses her arms under her tits, pushing them up, waiting for me to respond. I stare her dead in the face even though I can see her hard nipples poking through the fabric of my shirt. Any other time, I would relish her fight. Hell, it gets my blood pumping and my dick hard when she pushes back. Not today. She needs rest.

“Calliope,” I growl her name.

“Don’t you say my name like that, Elijiah Miller.”

“Get your sexy fucking ass in the bed.”

“Or?” she hisses.

If her ass wasn’t black and blue, I’d redden it with my palm. The little brat. I don’t think she comprehends what her body went through.

“You are trying my patience, little girl.”

“You are trying my nerves, old man,” she shoots back.

“That’s it.” I lift the brace off the bed and, in a flash, wrap it around her neck like a collar. My dick jerks at the thought of Callie permanently wearing my mark.

Jesus fuck, what is wrong with me?

I table those thoughts to analyze for another day. In two strides, I’m at Callie’s side, scooping her into my arms and carrying her to the bathroom. I carefully place her on her feet, facing away from the mirror over the sink.

“Stay.” My voice is all bark as I march back into the bedroom, lift the standing mirror in the corner, and lug it to the bathroom, placing it in front of my stubborn girl.

“What the hell are you doing, Eli?” Callie looks like an angry kitten as she narrows her eyes at me.