4. Brook

FOUR

brOOK

B rook couldn’t stop thinking about Storm. His scent lingered in her mind, clean yet rugged, with a hint of leather and something uniquely him—something that made her head swim every time she caught a whiff of it. Then there were his eyes, dark as midnight, almost black, yet smoldering with an intensity that pierced right through her. The way he had looked at her with those eyes, a mix of curiosity, danger, and something deeper, had left her breathless, as though he could see deep into her soul. She didn’t want to admit it—not even to herself—but she was just as curious about him. There was a quiet magnetism between them, an allure that tugged at her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to push them away.

It was entirely possible he wasn’t single. Just because his woman wasn’t there didn’t mean he was without one. Although, if he did have someone in his life, Brook felt sorry for them because she was pretty sure he’d been flirting with her all night. Even Daddying her slightly with how he had prepared her plate of food. She’d started sweating a bit when Atlas asked her what she wanted to eat. In the moment, she felt stupid for not being able to make a choice. It was embarrassing. But Storm stepped in and took care of things. He helped in a way that wasn’t what she’d expected from him.

After she’d accidentally spilled the beans about him buying a house, Brook had been sure he would yell at her. Or, at the very least, tell her boss. Instead, he’d met her apology with gentle words and forgiveness. Storm might be a bit grumpy, but she was pretty sure there was something a little more gentle underneath his exterior.

“I can’t wait for cake!” Carlee squealed, wiggling in her spot on the floor as they played Barbies. “I asked Bear for an Oreo cake with extra frosting.”

Now that was something Brook could get on board with. Extra frosting. Her pudgy tummy and jiggly thighs didn’t need it, but her heart did, and that was the most important organ. Yep. She’d go with that.

Brook dug through a box of Barbie shoes, looking for the match to a stiletto that no one in real life could ever actually wear. “Wow, a man in the clubhouse who bakes? And an amazing cook? Gabriel’s dinner was delicious. Even the carrots and they’re not usually my favorite.”

Carlee giggled. “They’ve started figuring out ways to make vegetables taste delicious because they got tired of us not eating them.”

That was sweet of their Daddies.

“What did you and Storm talk about at dinner?” Ivy asked.

Brook shrugged. “Nothing, really. I was nervous and ended up blabbing about being an introvert. He probably thinks I’m weird.”

Eden snorted. “With the way he kept his eyes on you the entire time, I’d say he was too busy falling in love to think anything bad about you.”

She burst out laughing at Eden because that was just ridiculous! She’d just met the man. Until dinner, he hadn’t known her name.

“You might need to get your vision checked because he wasn’t looking at me like that ,” Brook replied.

What she didn’t say was that there was no way in hell a man like Storm would ever be interested in a woman like her.

Molly nibbled on her bottom lip, looking around nervously. “I don’t know. I kind of agree with Eden. Storm definitely seemed different at dinner. Quieter. Softer. Not the same brooding, hard-edged guy we’re so used to seeing around here.” Her tone carried a mix of disbelief and wonder, as if the change in Storm’s demeanor was as fascinating as it was unsettling.

Brook frowned. “Is he usually mean?”

She didn’t like the idea of that. If he treated her friends badly, she’d… well, she’d do something about it. Probably not herself, but she wouldn’t hesitate to tell one of their Daddies because she could tell none of those men would allow anyone to be mean to their Little girls, even someone in the club.

Harper shook her head. “No. None of the men here are ever mean to us. Storm is just… grumpy. Like when you think of The Grinch, Storm is like him but times ten. But he’s nice and does kind things for us sometimes.”

Hmm. Why was he so grumpy? The question tugged at the edges of her thoughts, persistent and curious. Had something in his past shaped him into the brooding, closed-off man he appeared to be? Or had he always been that way, carrying an air of restless intensity like a second skin? Had he always been someone who didn’t’ enjoy being around lots of noise? She didn’t know why she cared. It wasn’t her place to wonder, and it was certainly none of her business. Storm was just a stranger, someone who had momentarily crossed her path. After tonight, their lives would drift apart like ships passing in the dark.

And yet, the thought of never seeing him again left an unexpected pang in her chest, a dull ache she couldn’t quite explain. It was ridiculous—completely irrational—but the idea of his dark eyes and gruff voice becoming nothing more than a memory felt... wrong. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the melancholy settling over her, but the sadness lingered, quiet and stubborn, like a question she couldn’t find the answer to.

“Happy birthday to youuuuu!” everyone finished singing.

Carlee beamed, and Brook was pretty sure if she grinned any wider her face would split in two. It was sweet. She loved seeing her friend so happy and loved.

As soon as Carlee blew out the candles, Atlas pulled them from the frosting. He dropped them onto a small paper cake plate and then scanned the table. “Shit, I forgot a knife. I’ll be right back.”

Remi reached over to put her finger in a corner of the frosting where no one would notice, and at the same time, it was almost as if a light bulb lit up over Carlee’s head.

She sat up straight and tipped her head, a smirk on her lips. “That’s okay, Daddy. We don’t need a knife. We can feed each other.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Carlee plunged her fingers right into the center of the cake. The vibrant icing squished between her fingers, and with a mischievous grin, she swiped it across Remi’s cheek in one bold, sticky streak. Remi froze for a split second, her eyes wide with shock before a squeal erupted from her lips, high-pitched and full of disbelief.

But the surprise didn’t last long. With a quick, retaliatory maneuver, Remi scooped up a handful of frosting and smeared it across Carlee’s face, her movements swift and unrelenting. Carlee let out a giggle that turned into a full-blown laugh, the sound bubbling over as the sugary chaos began to unfold.

Before Brook could fully process what was happening, frosting and cake chunks were flying through the air. Ivy took aim, walloping a dollop of frosting across Brook’s cheek with an unapologetic grin. Brook retaliated instantly, smooshing a handful of sticky sweetness onto Ivy’s face, her laughter mingling with the squeals and shrieks echoing through the room.

The chaos grew louder, more joyful, as frosting-covered fingers and excitement filled the air. The girls moved with reckless abandon, their screams of delight punctuated by giggles that turned into uncontrollable laughter. Frosting clung to faces, hair, and clothes, the once-perfect cake now a battlefield of sugary mayhem. It was wild, messy, and absolutely everything—a moment of unrestrained joy none of them would soon forget.

It was chaos.

Pure and innocent. But total chaos.

“Freeze!” Steele boomed, cutting through the noise.

Each Little froze in place, including Brook. She glanced around, taking in the mess they’d created, which was a bit horrifying. It looked like the cake had exploded.

“Did you girls not learn anything from the last birthday party?” Steele demanded, his eyes narrowed.

Yikes. Steele was intimidating when he was like this.

Remi put her index finger in her mouth and sucked off the frosting, pulling it out with a loud pop. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of the girls, but I learned I like Oreo cake more than chocolate cake.”

“Remi!” Kade scolded. “Watch the sass. You’re already in enough trouble.”

Trouble? Oh, shoot. Brook hadn’t thought about that. Were the men really mad?

As she slowly scanned each of their stern faces, it seemed like a few were struggling to keep from laughing.

“Daddy, it’s a tradition. We have to smear cake on each other at our birthdays. Picture it like mud wrestling, but instead, we use delicious frosting,” Carlee said, grinning up at Atlas.

Out of the corner of her eye, someone shifted, catching her attention. When she turned, her gaze collided with Storm’s. He stared back at her, his expression every bit as stern as it had been earlier, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Unlike the other men, there was no trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His gaze was steady, unyielding, and wholly unreadable.

Uh oh.

Brook swallowed hard, her heart skipping a beat as her cheeks heated. She couldn’t look away, even though every instinct told her she should. Her pulse quickened when she noticed the subtle movement of his hand. His fingers brushed over his short beard, slow and deliberate, but she didn’t miss the way his hand seemed to twitch once, twice, and then a third, as though resisting the urge to act.

At that moment, she was deeply relieved Storm wasn’t her Daddy because if he had been, she had no doubt she’d be in trouble.

“You naughty girls are cleaning up this mess. And tonight, before bed, I’m sure we’ll all be having a chat.”

Brook was pretty sure a chat meant a spanking. Carlee told her that Atlas spanked her a lot , but only because she wanted and needed it. Most of the time she was naughty, it was on purpose just so she would end up over his knee.

She peeked at Storm’s hand again and squeezed her thighs together. What would it be like to be spanked by the man? His hand was in proportion to the rest of him. He was so big and broad, even with her curves, she was sure he could hold her down.

Crap. That thought sent a tingle through her, right down to her pussy. Her breasts suddenly felt heavier and more sensitive, and her heart raced. When was the last time she’d gotten turned on by thoughts of a man? She had no idea, but even then, she’d never reacted to anyone this intensely.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Carlee said softly.

Atlas smirked. “You’re forgiven, baby. It’s not like we’re really surprised. You girls truly seem determined to make this a tradition no matter how hard we paddle your butts when you do it.”

Heat radiated from Brook’s core, and she dipped her head, unable to keep her gaze on Storm. Despite that, she felt his stare practically searing into her.

“Okay, get this cleaned up. I suggest you don’t start a second food fight while you do,” Kade told them.

Several of the men provided them with cleaning supplies and then left Brook and the other Littles to wipe up the mess. It really was a waste of good cake, but dang, it was also a blast.

By the time the whirlwind of the evening finally settled and all traces of the frosting explosion had been cleaned up, Brook was utterly exhausted, her body heavy with a pleasant fatigue. Yet, despite her tired limbs and the slight ache in her cheeks from hours of laughter and smiles, she felt a sense of overwhelming joy. A glow of contentment warmed her from the inside out, the kind of happiness that only came from feeling truly connected.

When she’d first met Carlee at the library, Brook had been thrilled to find someone who shared her passion for books. Carlee’s infectious enthusiasm and easy friendship had been a gift. But now, after spending hours with the group of women—sharing stories, laughter, and even a ridiculous, frosting-laden cake fight—Brook felt something deeper. These weren’t just acquaintances or casual companions anymore. They felt like her tribe, a circle of genuine friends who had welcomed her with open arms.

Her heart swelled with gratitude, the realization sinking in that she didn’t just have a friend in Carlee; she had a whole gaggle of women who were her chosen family. And for someone who’d always been a little reserved, a little cautious about letting people in, that was everything.

Around ten, when she could barely keep her eyes open any longer while they watched a movie, Brook sighed and forced herself up from the comfy beanbag seat she’d curled up on.

“I should probably go,” she told Carlee, who was also fighting to stay awake.

“You can stay the night if you want,” Carlee offered as she stood.

Brook hugged her friend and shook her head. “Thank you. I don’t sleep very well without Bubbles.”

Her friend nodded. “I understand. I need at least one of my stuffies otherwise, I won’t get a wink.”

After hugging all the other women who were still awake, Brook grabbed her backpack and smiled when Atlas appeared and explained that he would walk her to her car.

It seemed all these men were overprotective.

And she definitely didn’t hate it.

Storm was outside the clubhouse near her car, talking to another club member. She slowed her steps and kept an eye on him as she approached.

“Night, Brook. Drive home safe,” Atlas said before he retreated inside.

The man who had been talking to Storm suddenly seemed to disappear, leaving her alone in the night with the man who did strange things to her insides.

“I’m following you home,” he informed her matter-of-factly as he grabbed a helmet off the handlebar of a motorcycle.

Was that his bike? Wow. Black and sleek. She’d never ridden and wasn’t sure she would like it, but picturing Storm riding was a sexy thought.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

He arched a brow, his face stern. “I didn’t ask, sunshine. It’s late, dark, and the roads are wet from the rain earlier. I’m following you. Don’t forget to wear your seatbelt.”

It didn’t take a genius to see that he wasn’t going to back down.

She let out a dramatic sigh and opened her door. “Fine. But this is totally unnecessary.”

And a total turn-on.

She would keep that part to herself.

She kept glancing in her rearview mirror even though she really didn’t need to. The low growl of his motorcycle reminded her that he was still there during the entire drive home.

Letting out a sigh, she tightened her hands around the steering wheel. She didn’t need an escort. She’d driven home by herself lots of times in the dark, in the rain, and late at night. And as much as she had wanted to argue that point with him, she was also kind of touched that he took it upon himself to make sure she was safe.

As soon as she parked and stepped out of her car, Storm pulled his bike up behind her and cut the engine.

“You really didn’t need to follow me,” she told him again.

His face was unreadable. It made her shift nervously, unsure if she should say something else or just turn around and walk inside.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked.

Surprised by his question, she blinked several times. Why did he care if she had?

“Yes, thank you. I did.” She smiled as she thought about it.

“Yeah? You were quite naughty getting into that cake fight.” His tone was light but still held an edge. Her bottom clenched at the word naughty .

“I didn’t start it.” Yeah, that was a good argument.

Storm smirked and shook his head. “You still participated, sunshine.”

Her mouth fell open. He kept calling her that, and it was starting to feel special. She hadn’t heard him use that nickname with the other girls. Was it just for her?

When she didn’t respond immediately, his low chuckle rumbled through the air, deep and smooth like distant thunder. “Wash your face and brush your teeth, then go to bed. No reading tonight. You need sleep. Got me?”

Her mind stalled. Huh?

Was he… telling her what to do? As if he were her Daddy?

The audacity sent a jolt through her, though she couldn’t deny the logic in his words. She was utterly drained, close to falling asleep, but still… He wasn’t the boss of her. Nope. She was in charge of herself, thank you very much—well, mostly. Even if her recent choices hadn’t exactly been stellar examples of self-care.

Her pulse quickened, confusion tangling with a flicker of irritation that coiled inside her tummy. Was she really about to challenge him? The idea was as startling as it was exhilarating, her exhaustion lending her a bravery she wasn’t sure she possessed.

“Since when do you get to tell me what to do?” she shot back, her voice steady despite the wild fluttering in her chest.

Wow. Where had that come from?

Storm’s dark eyes locked onto hers, the weight of his gaze making her feel exposed and electrified. His lips curved slightly, the ghost of a smile teasing at the edges of his mouth. Was he… amused?

“Since right now, sunshine,” he replied, his tone quiet but firm, carrying an authority that made the night air hum with unspoken tension. He leaned in slightly, the intensity in his gaze somehow softening without losing its intensity. “You were barely able to stay awake during the movie, and you admitted to staying up late for the past couple of nights. Someone has to look out for you.”

The space between them seemed to crackle, the charged silence stretching as his words settled over her. There was no malice in his voice, no mocking—just a steady, unyielding care that was as disarming as it was infuriating.

“So, yeah, I’m telling you what to do, and you’re going to be a good girl and do it, aren’t you?”

She crossed her arms defensively, suddenly feeling very Little. It wasn’t just that he was right. It was how he said it, as if he was her Daddy.

“You don’t get to?—”

“I get to do whatever I want, sunshine,” he interrupted, unwavering, like it was a fact.

Her breath caught, a flash of something soft and vulnerable rising in her chest.

“You’re not my boss,” she muttered, taking a step back.

He chuckled again, the sound warm but with an edge of something else, something teasing. “Nah. But I am the one who told you to go wash your face. And guess what? You’re going to do it.”

She stiffened, a blush creeping up her neck despite herself. Damn him.

“Fine,” she huffed, turning to go up the walkway and trying her best to act unaffected, though her heart was still hammering against her ribcage.

When she reached the front door and pulled out her key to unlock it, she took one more peek back at him.

“Goodnight, sunshine,” he called out, almost gently.

“Goodnight, Storm.”

And when she got inside and changed into her pajamas—after washing her face, of course—ignoring her e-reader completely, she couldn’t shake the warm feeling inside her tummy. She didn’t know Storm, but she was pretty sure she wanted that to change.