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Chapter 6
Sam
* * *
My brats had been working overtime in the art of bratting, texting me naughty messages all day long, although Monica’s last message had seemed like an attempt to placate me. I’d gotten out on time for once, made a quick stop at the store and went home to pack a few essentials.
I changed out of my uniform, took the world’s quickest shower and made a beeline for the cottage. It was unlocked, as it usually was during the day. There was no sign of them in the kitchen or living room, so I headed for the bedroom.
Once there, I leaned against the doorjamb to take in the sight of Monica and Trey splayed out on the mattress, half-dressed and talking to each other. Monica noticed me first.
“Hi, Daddy.” She waved.
“How are you feeling, darling?”
A soft pink flush crept over her cheeks as I stared at her.
“Oh. Um. Much better, Daddy.”
“If you and Trey have been in bed all day, I should make sure you’re all right.”
“There’s really no need for all that,” Trey said off-handedly. “We’ve been in bed for good reasons.”
“I think there’s very much a need to ensure you’re both okay with what I’ve got planned.”
They looked at each other before returning their focus to me. I wouldn’t keep them waiting any longer. I strode into the room, setting my bag on the end of the bed.
They hadn’t held back all day, and I intended to respond in kind. I unpacked a few items, giving them a small glimpse of what was to come. Two different paddles. Two small cylindrical containers. A large tube of lube. And that was only what I allowed them to see.
“Trey spanked me and gave me lots of orgasms. Turns out I just needed some attention. Can you imagine?” Monica almost purred.
“Is that so?” I waggled my eyebrows at her. “Well, you’re about to have so much more attention, sweetheart. When I'm finished with you, I'll make sure you have enough for the week.”
“I apologize for my ‘tude, Sam,” she said at once. “It was naughty to poke at you while you were at work. I promise I’m good now!”
“You can call me Sir or Daddy until I say otherwise. Also, you are good. Poking at me doesn’t make you bad.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Thank you, Sir.”
“The same goes for you, Trey.”
He blew out a breath. “Yes, Sir. I warned our girl. She didn’t believe me, but she’s about to.”
Monica wrapped a piece of her hair around her pointer finger, peeping up at me through her lashing in the cutest kind of Little contrition. “Wait, um. Are you punishing us for distracting you, Sir?”
“No, sweetheart. Missing me while I’m at work isn’t a crime. I couldn’t answer as quickly as I wanted to, but you did nothing wrong. Either of you.” I winked as I undid the laces on my boots, taking them off and removing my socks. I tugged my tee-shirt off, leaving me in a black A-line tank and jeans.
“What exactly are you planning, Sir?” Trey propped himself up on one elbow.
I looked over the long length of his body. He had on navy form-fitting briefs on and nothing else. I licked my lips as I drank in the view. “You’ll see.”
I took one of the round containers and opened it with a flourish, pulling out a medium-sized glass rod. If Monica wanted to pretend she was sick, she was going to have to prove she wasn’t in order for our night to continue.
Veterinary thermometers functioned the same way as typical medical thermometers, but were thicker, sturdier. My naughty patients would feel the difference. Trey, having worked around horses and other animals his whole life, caught on quicker than Monica. He crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly aware of what was going to happen. I kept a smirk off my lips, frowning solemnly as I shook the thermometer until the line dipped below the standard ninety-eight-point-six mark.
“I am really sorry for making you worry about me, but I’m not sick,” she protested.
I raised my eyebrows, pretending to be surprised. “But you told me earlier that you were.”
