Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 45 - Gideon

Emma was hardly eating. I'd made her salmon, both because I knew how much she liked it, but also because it was high in energy. The two pieces of salmon on her plate was still practically whole, you could barely see that someone had taken a bite of it.

I wasn't the only one watching her closely. Both Callan and Mateo were keeping an eye on her too, making sure she was eating enough, and the bites she'd taken wasn't it. I didn't give a fuck if Emma felt our watchful gaze, we wouldn't leave this damn table until she'd finished at least one of the salmon filets.

I knew we weren't her dominants anymore, or had any rightful control over her, but fuck if I'd ever let my baby starve herself, no matter how unconscious her starvation might be.

"Eat more," I said when she placed the knife and fork down, signaling that she was done.

"I'm not a child," Emma grumbled, "I can decide how much I can eat myself."

"Mhm," Callan said in disbelief. "Is that why you seem to have lost about fifteen pounds in only a few weeks? Bella, you need to take better care of yourself, or we'll do it for you."

So, it seemed Callan had stopped taking the observing role, and gotten back to his bossy self. About damn time. I was sick and tired of him acting like a completely different person.

Emma's brows scrunched up at the mention of her weight. Till now, it had been a topic we'd avoided talking about, but it needed to be mentioned. She was starting to look unhealthy, and it wasn't something to be ignored and brushed under a carpet if we wanted to help her.

"I know..." Emma sighed. "I've just been struggling with my appetite, and I don't enjoy eating if I don't enjoy it."

"We get that, Gorgeous, but not eating won't make that issue go away," Mateo said calmly, when all I wanted was to shake some sense into her. Couldn't she see how not well she was? Hell, one of the reasons I went past the denim jeans was because they wouldn't fit her. At least with sweatpants, you could tighten the drawstring around the waist.

Emma sighed in defeat, looking at her food as if it was an enemy rather than something made for her—by me. "If I eat this," Emma made gestures to one of the filets, "will that satisfy you enough to let me go back to sleep?" While the question was directed at everyone, it was me she locked eyes with.

"Yes."

"No," I said right after Mateo. He was obviously pleased that she'd agreed to eat more than what she'd already eaten, but a few pieces of salmon were hardly considered a meal.

Emma rose her eyebrows at me, clearly annoyed. I shrugged, not caring one bit.

"One filet, the rest of your broccolis, and some potato." I'd cut it down to three things on her plate, but I would've preferred for her to eat some of the tomatoes as well.

"Are you trying to negotiate how much I should eat?" she asked in clear shock.

"No." I shook my head. "I'm not negotiating. I'm telling you."

She gave out a disbelieving laugh. "Sorry, but I can distinctly remember us breaking off our arrangement. You aren't my dominant anymore."

"The way you addressed me when I tried to wake you up earlier wouldn't completely support your statement. Some part of your unconscious would disagree with you."

She blinked, and a second later that beautiful blush started painting her cheeks. "That wasn't a dream?" she murmured embarrassed.

My lips twitched. "Not that part."

"Oh...that's mildly embarrassing."

"Don't be. You know I like it when you call me Daddy."

Her entire face was flushed now, and I took great pleasure in making her uncomfortable. Wait...was I teasing her? I didn't do teasing.