Page 215 of Papa's Bébé


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He was her favorite person too.

As she sat, Gummy rushed at her, barking several times.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked as the dog moved to the door and barked again. “Oh, maybe she wants out.”

“She just went out, but I’ll take her again,” Matthieu said. “I need to come up with some sort of fence so we can let them out on their own.”

He grabbed a lead and took Gummy outside. Dougie decided to follow, and he put him on a lead too.

Tank settled next to her feet while Big Berry sat on her other side. They were flanking her.

Guarding her?

Wow. Was this what Tank had needed to bring him out of his sadness? A purpose? A reason?

If one good thing came out of what that asshole Vince had done . . . it was this. The fact that Tank had a reason to interact with them, to come out of his room.

To live.

Reaching over, she scratched them both as Matthieu returned.

“She didn’t do anything. If I had to hazard a guess, I think she’s looking for the chickens.”

Oh shoot.

“Maybe I should have left her with Millie. I didn’t even think about the fact that she’d miss Princess Lay-er and the others. I’m so sorry, Gummy.”

Gummy let out a soft bark and sat with a sigh.

“She’ll be all right,” Matthieu reassured her as he grabbed her a pad and pen. “Here, limits. Things you don’t want. And think about a safe word and also, anything that your Little might want or need. A Little Wishlist.”

Right.

He wasn’t asking for much, just for her to dive into her deepest wishes and desires.

Nope. Not much at all.

44

He’d unpacked all of the groceries and their stuff as well rigging up a fence outside. When he returned inside she was still staring down at that piece of paper like it held the secrets to the universe.

“How are you getting on, Bébé?” he asked, coming to sit beside her.

While Gummy was asleep in front of glass doors and Dougie was busy chewing on a toy, Tank and Big Berry hadn’t left Maya’s side.

Princess Priss was still on the back of the sofa, presiding over everyone.

“Um, all right, I guess. I have my limits and a safeword. I’m just having trouble with the Little Wishlist.”

He should have known that was the part she’d struggle with. Putting down things she might want.

He took the piece of paper.

“Okay, so limits include no canes, no making you bleed, no swearing at you or humiliating or degrading you.”

That all sounded good to him.

“I had to look up some ideas. I wasn’t even sure. But when I found a possible list, I knew those were definitely my hard limits. I don’t want any scars, either. But I figured that went with the bleeding.”