Free Playing a Little by Breanna Hayse Page A

to change. You accepted this role knowing this. Why? Do you deny that something inside of you is intrigued by the thought of being bare-bottomed over my knee?”
    “You are embarrassing me.”
    “Get over it. Answer me and be honest. And get used to looking at me when we talk about uncomfortable issues. Watch my eyes. You won’t ever see any judgment or mockery in them.”
    “That is easy for you to say. I want to just climb under a rock.”
    “Then I will pull you out by your ponytail. Answer me. Are you intrigued with the thought of me paddling your bare bottom? Of being forced to lie across my knees and be exposed to my view?”
    Camille’s face burned with embarrassment as she forced herself to meet his eyes. He was right. They were filled with warmth, patience, and understanding. She took a deep breath. “Okay, yes. It started with that scene we did when I was twelve… it never left my mind. It made me feel warm inside, like someone actually cared. Especially when you held me after and told me to call if I ever needed you. I mean, if Pippi ever needed you. That part was not in the script.”
    “I know,” Erik laughed. “If I recall, the script read that you jumped off my lap and kicked me in the shin. I was even wearing shin guards to protect myself. You didn’t, though. Why?”
    “I told the writer that it was inconsistent with the character of Pippi. She was supposed to be the strongest girl in the world, and she would have broken your leg,” Camille shrugged.
    “The truth, Miss Cami. I can tell when you are fibbing.”
    “Geesh! It was because I wanted to be held like that. I wanted… I needed to believe that someone loved me, even though it was make-believe.”
    “It was make-believe then, but not now. Would you like me to hold you like a little girl again?”
    Camille hesitated before nodding. Erik easily pulled her onto his lap, cradling her lovingly in his arms as he eased her against his broad chest. He rested his lips on top of her head and gently began to rock, singing quietly into her hair. Camille found herself curling deeper into his embrace and he leaned back against the comfortable couch and began to stroke the side of her face. The last thing Camille remembered before she drifted to sleep was the warm beam of mid-morning sunlight that gently warmed her cheek.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Erik opened his eyes, his nostrils filled with the fresh scent of Camille’s hair. Strawberry. He carefully shifted her in his arms and gazed down upon her sleeping face. Her pink lips were slightly parted and her cheeks still had the sweet remnants of baby fat, making her look so much younger than her tender year of nineteen. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, thinking of how he had been living his life before he met her.
    He had always been interested in older women. Their maturity, lack of inhibitions, knowledge of what they wanted in their lives held a great attraction for him. Several had young children, and he found himself enjoying playtime as much as the little ones. He loved their laughter, their freedom, their innocence, and longed for a time when he could have experienced the same. Like Camille, he had been a child star and had been forced to mature before his time because of the responsibility that came with his job. Sadly, he could count the times he remembered laughing on one hand. Arthur had been good to him, but treated him as an adult in most circumstances. No, the freedom of childhood had never been an option for the solemn boy.
    He was submitted into foster care at three years old by his single mother. He had been a precocious child, always into something mischievous, and a true challenge for the homes he had been sent to. Lack of a stable, solid foundation led to him having a tremendous amount of anger and he would often get into fights with his foster siblings, or disappear for long periods of time as he explored new neighborhoods with the hopes of finding a place he could call