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The same hand that had punished her and held her in place while she took his cock in her bottom lifted to her chin. With a gentleness that seemed counterintuitive to the pain he’d just inflicted, he turned her head so she was forced to meet his serious gaze.
“As I said. You are always,alwaysmy good girl. Even when you’re naughty, you are still my good girl.”
His words soothed the last of the ache in her soul. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“How are you feeling?”
“My bottom hurts. A whole lot. But I feel good. Thank you for loving me enough to punish me.”
“Always.”
She let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. “I’m starving.”
“Mmm.” He nipped at her shoulder. “Me too.”
“Not like that,” she said, laughing. “Tummy hungry, Daddy.”
“Me too. Pizza sound good?”
“Yes! And ice cream?” she asked hopefully.
“Hmm. Only good girls get ice cream.”
Letting her bottom lip push out into a pout, she looked up at him through her lashes. “But you said I was a good girl.”
His smile warmed her in places she hadn’t realized were still cold. “Exactly.”
Chapter16
The tentative knock on his office door announced MaryAnn’s presence. “Mr. Monroe? Mr. Jackson is here to see you.”
James glanced at the clock on his computer and frowned. “Did we have an appointment?”
As predictable as the sunrise, his question had poor MaryAnn’s cheeks flushing bright red. “N-no, sir. But he said you told him to come by whenever.”
He hadn’t said anything of the sort, but from the few interactions he’d had with the man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Especially from a receptionist, who he probably saw as lower than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. “I have a few spare minutes. Bring him back.”
MaryAnn’s head bobbed in acknowledgment before she disappeared down the hall. She returned a few moments later, with their problem child in tow.
“Thank you, MaryAnn. Mr. Jackson.” James held out a hand and barely resisted the urge to sneer at the man’s clammy, limp handshake. “Have a seat. What can I do for you this afternoon?”
“Well, I just assumed you’d want to meet in person to discuss our strategy going forward. What did you do about our previous agent?” The weasel across from him smirked, and it was almost worth the blow to their reputation to wipe it off his face. With his fist. “I trust that situation’s been handled?”
An image of Olivia, whimpering and whining while she took his cock in her gorgeous, well-paddled ass flashed in James’s mind. But he’d be damned if he gave Jackson the satisfaction of implying she’d been so much as reprimanded, so he kept his expression bland. “What can I do for you, Mr. Jackson?”
“For starters, you can assure me she no longer works here. She didn’t seem all that interested in selling our house in the first place, and that email was just the icing on the cake.”
He swallowed the irritation, bitter as it was. The urge to defend his wife was strong, but he wasn’t about to get into a pissing contest with the little weasel. “I’ve spoken to Olivia at length about your situation. She had some very good suggestions. Did you implement any of her ideas?”
The weasel snorted. “Like leaving a couple dirty dishes in the sink really hurt anything. Please tell me you have some better ideas than that vapid bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
The ice in James’s tone apparently didn’t affect weasels. The man leaned in like he was sharing a juicy secret, his greasy smirk somehow managing to get even slimier. “Look, props to you for scoring such a nice piece of ass. And I’m sure those big doe eyes and bangin’ body probably sell houses but come on. We both know there’s not much going on upstairs.”
James’s fingers curled into a fist on top of his desk. “Mr. Jackson, I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out.”
“What isn’t?”
