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Well, he must be. After spending just a short time around me, he’d recognized me as a little.
I assumed (seriously hoped) that he didn’t already have a wife or a girlfriend or a little. Surely if he did, he wouldn’t be flirting with me so openly right now.
I didn’t obey. I kept playing with the spoon and squirming in my seat. Twice, the spoon clattered to the table, and I picked it up before he could snatch it away. I giggled each time he missed.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he said, raising his voice. But it didn’t quite matter since no one was close enough to hear him scolding me. “I’ve had enough of your deliberate naughtiness. Hand me the spoon right now.”
The air between us was thick and charged with tension. Holding the spoon in my right hand, I froze and stared at him with my mouth agape.
What would he do if I didn’t give him the spoon? Would he march me out to his truck and give me a spanking? And if so, how would he go about it? I assumed the punishment would happen in his back seat, where the windows were heavily tinted, but would he take me over his knee for a spanking or would he order me to bend over something?
My face heated as I imagined him marching me out to his truck, his face set in a stern expression as he murmured into my ear that he planned to make me one very sorry little girl.
“It’s my spoon and you can’t have it,” I blurted. With a cheeky grin, I resumed twirling the utensil from hand to hand. Occasionally, I paused to take a bite of the pancakes or a sip of coffee. I didn’t know a whole lot about being a little, but I knew I was bratting right now. Lightly bratting. And in all the books I’d read, little girls who bratted most definitely got in trouble with their daddies. They got scolded and spanked. Sometimes they got corner time, too, or even more intimate punishments that made them blush bright red.
Derek straightened in his seat and shot me his sternest look yet. Suddenly, I was very aware of the wetness in my panties. I was getting so achy and wet that I was making a mess. I stopped squirming around and spinning the spoon. What if I soaked through my panties to my dress? Shame heated me all over. That would be the most embarrassing thing ever. Maybe I ought to listen to Derek and settle down. Behave.
Or maybe not.
He reached down to readjust himself in his pants, and not for the first time since we’d sat down for breakfast. It would seem we were both excited.
“If you don’t hand me the spoon right now, baby girl,” he eventually said, “Daddy is going to punish you. I mean it, Gemma. Do you want a spanking on your bare little bottom?”
His words weren’t just a threat, they were a question. And a dare. He was threatening to chastise me if I didn’t behave, but he was alsoaskingif he could spank me.
If I didn’t want a punishment, no big deal. I could just hand over the spoon.
But if I wanted to explore more of this exciting dynamic between us, then he was daring me to misbehave. Daring me to be a naughty baby girl so her daddy would have a reason to spank her.
Well, I knew what I wanted. Before I could overthink things, I flicked the spoon and it clattered to the floor. “Oops.”
His eyes flashed and he leaned closer. “Pick it up. Pick it up and put it on the table or the spanking you have coming is going to be so much worse than I’m already planning.”
My stomach clenched with nerves and heat shot between my thighs. I stared at him for a moment, stunned that this was actually happening. Not only had I met the stern, cowboy daddy of my dreams, but he kept calling me baby girl, scolding me, and he’d even promised to punish me.
Another tingle raced across my bottom cheeks and the quaking in my privates grew stronger. So strong I had to resist the urge to rub myself between my thighs in the middle of the restaurant.
I bit my lower lip. “Sorry, Derek.”Daddy. Could I call him that yet?
Thankfully, he saved me from having to ask.
“That’s Daddy to you, young lady. Now pick up the spoon. Don’t make me ask again.”
I rushed to retrieve the spoon from the floor. As I did so, I cast another glance around to make sure we had plenty of privacy. Yep, still pretty much alone. Thank goodness. I liked having Daddy to myself while also in a public place. It added some excitement to the trouble I’d gotten in.
The idea of someone witnessingDaddythreaten to punish me was thrilling, even though I didn’t actually want anyone to overhear.
“Thank you. Now, finish your breakfast. We’re leaving in two minutes.” He pulled out his wallet and put a fifty-dollar bill on the table. “You’re going to regret your mischief once I get you out to the truck, baby girl. I’m glad you wore a dress. It’ll be easy for Daddy to access that naughty bottom of yours.”
CHAPTER8
DEREK
I wishedI had my tool bag as I walked out of the diner, but fortunately we didn’t run into anyone. Good thing, too, because I was packing some serious wood.
I kept a hand to Gemma’s lower back as I marched her toward my truck, which was parked in the rear of the otherwise empty lot next to the diner. We would have plenty of privacy for what I had planned.
Once we reached the truck, I turned Gemma in my arms and peered down at her. She was trembling slightly, but her face was flushed, and she was breathing rapidly. She was nervous, but she was also excited about the prospect of receiving her first spanking. A spanking she had practically begged me for as she’d playfully goaded me in the restaurant.
