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The Institute, Daddy Issues(13)

By:Evangeline Anderson


“Well then we’ve failed be­fore we star­ted,” I said flatly. “Be­cause sexy is one thing I am not.”

“Is not true, Andi,” Salt said quietly and I thought his deep voice was a little hoarse. “Not true at all.”

“Umm…” Once more, I didn’t know what to say. “I’m glad you like the out­fit,” I said at last, lamely.

“No, no!” Stevens ex­claimed, shak­ing his head. “Your Daddy just gave you a com­pli­ment, my dear! He’s show­ing in­terest in you—giv­ing you at­ten­tion you des­per­ately crave. You want more of that—so flirt with him! Play it up!”

“Flirt?” I looked at him blankly. I’d spent most of my pro­fes­sional life be­ing as non—flirty as pos­sible. People don’t take you ser­i­ously if you’re too flirty and girly—es­pe­cially at the PD. I teased around with Salt on oc­ca­sion but only when we were alone.

“Just try it,” Stevens urged. “This is your Daddy we’re talk­ing about—you love him and you want to please him more than any­thing else in the world.”

“Geeze,” I muttered. “Okay, here goes.” I cocked my head to one side and looked up at Salt coquet­tishly from un­der my lashes. “I’m glad you like my out­fit, Papa. I wore it just for you,” I said in a high, breathy voice.

Stevens nod­ded. “Yes, that’s bet­ter. Now De­tect­ive Salt, you re­spond.”

“You look beau­ti­ful, my little mishka,” Salt rumbled softly. “So beau­ti­ful it makes your Papa ache to look at you.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat. I knew we were just play­ing roles but still…

“Very good.” Stevens nod­ded again. “He’s giv­ing you clear sig­nals, De­tect­ive Sug­ar­baker. So go over and sit in your Daddy’s lap.”

“What?” I hes­it­ated un­eas­ily. “I thought that kind of thing was if I was play­ing a younger age.”

“That kind of thing, as you put it, is uni­ver­sal. No mat­ter what age you’re play­ing, a Baby­girl al­ways wants to sit in her Daddy’s lap.”

“Okay, well…” I was still hes­it­at­ing so Salt pat­ted his knees.

“Come on, Andi. You know I do not bite.”

“Fine.” I walked across to Salt and perched gingerly on one of his knees. “There. Sat­is­fied?”

“No.” Stevens frowned. “Listen, De­tect­ives, I don’t think either one of you is quite grasp­ing the concept here.” He looked at me. “This man is your pro­tector—your guard­ian…your dis­cip­lin­arian…your everything. He will kill or die to pro­tect you and you ad­ore him for that.”

“I do?” I asked.

Salt nod­ded. “Makes sense. I would kill or die to pro­tect Andi.”

“You would?” I turned my head to look at Salt more fully. He met my eyes without hes­it­a­tion.

“You know I would, Andi,” he said softly. “On this there can be no ques­tion.”

“Well, you’re already do­ing a good job of act­ing pro­tect­ive, De­tect­ive Salt,” Stevens said. “But you, De­tect­ive Sug­ar­baker, need to ramp up your game.”

“Okay,” I said, try­ing to hold on to my tem­per. “Tell me how since you’re the kink ex­pert.”

“You can start by snug­gling into your Daddy’s lap like a real Baby­girl would,” Stevens said, frown­ing. “You want to get a close as pos­sible be­cause in his arms is where you find com­fort, love, pro­tec­tion from the big, bad out­side world. In his arms is where you feel safe.”

I looked back at Salt who shrugged and opened his arms to me—a si­lent in­vit­a­tion.

I scooted back on his lap un­til my back was touch­ing his chest but I couldn’t quite al­low my­self to re­lax. It felt strange, be­ing held this way. In fact, the last time I could re­mem­ber sit­ting on someone’s lap was be­fore my own father took off when I was around nine.

“You’re still too stiff,” Stevens ob­jec­ted. “Re­lax.”

“I can’t,” I said. “This is just so weird. I’m a grown wo­man—I shouldn’t be sit­ting on any­one’s lap.”

“Andi…come,” Salt said in my ear. And then I felt his long, mus­cu­lar arms en­fold­ing me, draw­ing me closer so that the side of my body was pressed to his broad chest and my face was against the strong column of his throat.