Page 17 of Daddy's Little Librarian
This wasn’t happening. Holding Bat Bear by the arm, she braced herself against the edge of the counter. With the heat of one broad hand clamped on the back of her neck, she stared in growing disbelief as she watched his other arm swing back. It was all so surreal. Right up until the flat of his other hand came cracking down hard across the center of her skirt-clad backside. She was still in her professional librarian business attire. That business attire did absolutely nothing to soften the force with which he spanked her.
He only swatted her once.
It startled the hell out of her, and stung like a fury.
Her mouth rounded in both shock and admiration. Her new Daddy had a really hard, spanking hand.
When he let go of the back of her neck and physically turned her around to face him again, he had her full and complete attention. “Did I tell you to go get your clothes?”
“No, Daddy.” Don’t rub your bottom, she told herself fiercely. Don’t rub, but already her hands were back behind her, cupping her butt with Bat Bear’s solicitous help.
“What did I tell you to do?” he reminded.
“Take a bath.”
“Are you going to keep arguing with me?”
“No, Daddy.”
“Then what should you be doing right now?”
She immediately kicked off her comfortable flats and dove for the tub to insert the plug and turn the water on.
He watched, hands on his hips once more. “What’s your bear’s name?”
“Bat Bear,” she said, whipping off her dress belt and then her bracelet, and then floundering because those were all the safe things she had to remove. After that, some part of her was getting intimately uncovered with her new Daddy standing right there, watching her.
“Put Bat Bear on the counter,” he said. “She doesn’t need a bath right now, and you don’t want to ruin her.”
Right. Rattled as she was, she just wasn’t thinking. She slipped past him to put Bat Bear down, and when she turned, he’d already walked out of the room. He’d even closed the door to the barest of cracks, giving her privacy. Feeling almost as weirdly titillated as she was unnerved, she shucked out of her clothes in record time and hopped into the bath, yanking the plastic fish-tank curtain so it stretched from wall to tiled wall. She sat down with the hot water still running and hugged her knees to her chest.
A few minutes later, he returned long enough to lay a clean towel, clean underwear and her pink bunny footie pajamas with ‘It’s Night Night Time’ in bright purple and silver glitter across the butt. She had half a dozen perfectly grownup nightshirts folded in her dresser, right next to where those pajamas had been.
They were her Littlest pajamas. They even had a butt flap.
Easy to take down. Easy to spank her through without taking the whole thing off.
She couldn’t handle this. Lying back in the tub, Scotti sank into bathwater that came up to her ears.
Holy shit. She had a new Daddy.
How the hell had that happened, again?
Chapter Seven
Kurt taped her mattress, stuffed as much of her pillow as he could find into her pillowcase, and then found another pillowcase on a shelf in the closet and shoved the first pillow into it. He wasn’t Martha Stewart, but he made her bed and vacuumed the floor while he waited for Scotti to get out of the bath. Then he checked all the windows, tested each lock to make sure they were sound and put ‘buy new locks’ on his mental checklist for tomorrow. It would take some time, but he was going to completely change every lock before the weekend.
Then he would change her phone numbers.
Then he was going to start work on a restraining order, and he was going to make a few old friends who might not hold hostile feelings toward him aware of what was going on.
Before he was done here, he would get someone to listen.
And once she was as safe as he could make her, then and only then would he figure out a way to extricate himself from the problem he’d just made.
What. The. Hell.
God, everything that had just happened upstairs in the bathroom had just happened so damned naturally. It was the bear, it had to be. When he’d heard her walk upstairs, he’d chased after her. He’d wanted to prepare her. The last thing he wanted was for her to see what had been done to her wall and her bed and panic.
