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“Why do you have all these exams with you?” Etienne asks, dropping the grocery bag filled with exam papers onto the bench in the back hall.
“I haven’t graded them yet,” I admit, biting my lip.
“Midterm grades are due next week,” he growls.
“I know,” I all but whine. Taking off my jacket, I hang it and my purse on the hook by the door. “I’ll have to grade them on Sunday.”
“We’re supposed to be spending the entire weekend together.” He scowls at me. “You told me you were grading them yesterday.”
“I know.” I stomp my foot, feeling frustrated and angry with myself for putting off the aspect of my job I hate the most—grading.
“You’ve had plenty of time to do it.”
Trying to come up with an excuse, I say, “I know, I just—”
“Violet, go take off your big girl clothes,” he interrupts, handing me my gym bag, “and meet Daddy in the kitchen.”
“Okay,” I mutter glumly, heading toward Etienne’s bedroom.
I glance into the playroom as I pass. Daddy has filled it with the books, games, and toys I enjoy. He’s made a special place in his home for me to embrace my little side and for him to enjoy being my Daddy. I love snuggling with him in the oversized chair with my special apple stuffie as he reads to me. Or sitting on the fluffy carpet, playing board games.
Setting my duffel bag on the chair in the corner of the bedroom, I take out a pair of leggings, a short-sleeve tunic top, and a pair of fluffy socks. The day’s stress melts away as I take off my adult clothes. Next, I move into the bathroom and scrub my face, washing away my makeup. Instantly, I become Daddy’s little girl again.
Slowly I shuffle back into the kitchen, feeling guilty for upsetting Etienne. I can understand why he’s angry. I had plenty of time to finish grading the exams, and I knew Daddy wanted to spend the entire weekend together. Especially since we’ll be on campus for most of next weekend with parents’ weekend.
When I enter the kitchen, Etienne is taking items out of the freezer and preparing our dinner.
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“I know you are, baby.”
“Can I help?”
“No. While I make dinner”—he motions toward a notebook and pen on the counter—“I want you to write lines and think about how your procrastination will take away time spent together this weekend.”
I jump onto the stool in front of the counter and pout. “Don’t you think grading the exams will be punishment enough?”
“Violet, I didn’t think you’d prefer a spanking since we have our bike ride tomorrow,” he says sternly, coming around the counter to stand next to me.
“No, please, Daddy.” I’m warmed that he’s always thinking of and caring about me, even when it comes to my punishments. My bike seat may have some padding, but Daddy has a hard hand and I would be miserable all day—and it would ruin what’s supposed to be a fun day with our friends, viewing the last autumn leaves. I pick up the red pen and ask softly, “What do you want me to write?”
“Daddy—loves—me,” he murmurs in my ear as he boxes me in against the counter, surrounding my body with his solid warmth.
“You love me?” I stare at the words I’ve written, unable to move—overwhelmed with my feelings.
“Yes. Why do you think I want to spend time with you?”
“I love you too, Daddy,” I tell him, pulling my gaze from the page and looking at his handsome face—which has split into a wide grin.
Cupping my face gently, his kiss starts off sweet. Soon he’s leaving me breathless, and I want more of him. I grip the front of his shirt tightly and pull myself firmly against his chest. There’s nothing better than the feeling of being in Daddy’s arms.
Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against mine and, breathing heavily, says, “This once, after dinner, I’ll help you grade the exams.”
“You will?” I breathe excitedly, relieved to have help.
“Yes, and that way, you’ll have time to move in with me on Sunday?” He lets the statement hang in the air like a question.
“You want to live together?” My entire body is humming with excitement.
