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“That isn’t a tequila sunrise, is it?”
Her lower lip protruded even further, and I swore that it was the cutest pout I’d ever seen in my life. That same pouty lip tensed, thinning into a thin line as she took the drink fully into her hands.
“No. It isn’t,” I answered.
Then, without warning, she threw it in my face.
CHAPTER9
Caitlin
I knew I was in over my head.
I should have just taken the juice and drunk it. He didn’t know that I loved orange juice, especially the kind without any pulp. Without fail, I had a glass at least once a day and it was so much part of my routine that my father had made certain it was delivered once a week with our grocery delivery order.
The last thing I should have done was throw it in his face.
Shocked at myself, I stared back at him almost dumbfounded as I watched the juice drip down his face and down onto his shirt. He didn’t say a word as he sat down and calmly sipped at his glass of whiskey. His lack of reaction was the most disturbing thing of all. He had this dangerous sense of calmness and patience that I’d never seen before in my life. I expected him to fly off the handle.
Why didn’t he reach out and hit me?
Do something,anythingreally.
Waiting for him to fly off the handle was undoubtedly worse than it actually happening. My clit pulsed and I cursed it, trying to ignore it to the best of my ability and failing completely. I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was almost like I was pushing him just so I knew what things would be like when they were at their worst, or maybe I just needed to know that he wouldn’t turn tail and leave me just like everyone else. From the looks of things, he was a man that was used to things going his way and if they didn’t, he’d just pay enough money to ensure that they did. Most men would have lashed out at me by now.
Why didn’t he?
I couldn’t help it. I kept pushing. He was just sitting there, saying nothing and just calmly sipping his whiskey and for some insane reason, that just made me lose control and the words just toppled out of my mouth.
“Are you going to take off your belt now?” I challenged, making no effort at all to hide the open aggravation in my voice.
His icy blue gaze slid over to me as he sighed softly.
“The belt is for big girls,” he said softly and that made my stomach cinch tight.
“I’m a grown woman,” I snarled, my defiance spiraling forward like a freight train.
What was wrong with me? Did I want more of the belt? My bottom was still sore from it the first time and I watched with a sudden surging sense of doom as he placed his now empty whiskey glass down on the table beside him.
“Pouty, defiantlittlegirls are dealt with very differently,” he stated, and that same impending sense of doom loomed over me.
I hated that a part of it excited me. That should have made me angry. I wasn’t a little girl. I had taken care of myself for much of my life. I was more of an adult than most kids my age. Instead, my clit throbbed harder as I tried to figure out what he might mean. I shifted in my seat again, realizing that I was much wetter than before.
“What happens… to… to…little… girls?”
My tentative voice shook a little with my nerves, and his gaze glittered with promise. I’d steamrolled my way right into whatever was about to happen, and we both knew it.
“Pouty,defiantlittle girls have their bare bottoms spanked over Daddy’s knee.”
My pussy clenched so hard that I almost toppled over the brink into an orgasm right then and there.
For a moment, my brain short circuited, focusing on several different aspects of that one single statement. First and foremost, Cormac was going to spank me. Unlike the belting in the judge’s chambers, which in some sense felt impersonal over the desk with my skirt lifted, this spanking was going to take place over his knee. Instantly, the thought of that much physical contact between the two of us right now was overwhelming, and it didn’t end there.
He’d said mybarebottom.
That meant that my skirt wasn’t just going to be pushed up. He was going to take my panties down.
Oh, fuck…
