“So good, sir.” Then I feel her smile, her lips curving against my throat. “Daddy. That’s such a cute name for you. I thought you’d prefer sir.”
I do like sir. But from her, sweet and young as she is, I think I prefer daddy. I smile down at her, enjoying that I’ve been able to give her this moment of peace. It won’t last forever, but we can work on that. We’ll make time to work on it.
“Thank you for telling me what you want.”
She covers her face for a moment and looks sheepish. “I don’t know what came over me.”
I think I know. When you’re that unhappy, you haven’t got much to lose. What’s a temp job when you could reach out for something you’re craving deep in your soul?
It’s tempting to send her home without her underwear because I want to keep them in my pocket, but that’s for another day. I help her back into them, one foot at a time, and slide them up her legs.
Still kneeling before her, I cup her ass in my hands, feeling how smooth and soft she is; wondering how receptive she might be to my harsher, more punitive, side. I think she might be. She didn’t start calling me sir because I remind her of a cuddly teddy bear.
“Have you ever been spanked?”
Sucking on her swollen lower lip, she shakes her head. The possessive impulse doubles. Good. No one else has been putting her over his knee and turning her ass a brilliant shade of red.
“Would you like to be, when we have more time?”
Lacey’s mouth twitches with a shy smile, and she nods. A little fearfully, but wanting it just the same. I memorize her expression so I can relive it later, along with every second of the last thirty minutes.
“I’ll look forward to it,” I murmur, standing up. I’m happiest when I have someone under my thumb. A dictator, but in the most benevolent way possible. I smooth Lacey’s hair back from her face and marvel at the change in her. From tears and anxiety to softness and sweetness after just a short time in my arms. I hold her for a little longer, loving the feel of her, tracing the velvet choker and the neckline of her dress with a forefinger.
Reluctantly, I let her go. “I’ll walk you out to the Tube station, and then I’d better get back to the opening.”
She grimaces. “I’m sorry I made you miss most of it. What are you going to tell them?”
I’m not sorry in the slightest. “The truth. That important business came up, and it couldn’t wait.”
Lacey collects her handbag and we head out of the museum and across the square, not speaking but in step with each other. The evening is warm and the breeze gentle. Lacey’s long hair brushes against my arm, and she’s smiling. I hope her smile lasts all evening.
I kiss her cheek when we reach the Tube. “Mind the stairs,” I say with a wink.
She disappears down into the station with a smile and a wave for me, and I head back to the museum with a lightness in my chest than I haven’t felt in a long time. Despite what some people might think, I don’t enjoy being a grumpy asshole. I like being happy, same as anyone else, and Lacey knows just how to put a smile on my face.
Chapter Ten
Lacey
The train journey home passes in a heavenly daze. I’m still tingling inside my underwear, and I remember every word, every touch, every kiss of the last hour. I can feel Mr. Blomqvist’s lips against mine. The slight rasp of his shaven jaw and the smell of his masculine scent. He was so big beneath my fingers, and yet so gentle as he got down on his knees to lick my sex.
I can’t believe that it happened. That I made it happen. My therapist said once—and I want to roll my eyes at myself for being one of those people who say my therapist said—that confidence is overrated. Confident people are so often insufferable. What matters most is courage.
I’m not confident about anything. I’m really, really scared most of the time, but I can have moments of courage, and I think I just had one with Mr. Blomqvist. I run my finger over my tender lower lip and smile a secret smile. This is something that’s all mine, and it’s filled with pleasure and more than a dash of naughtiness.
Mr. Blomqvist is so easy to talk to. Kind of a dirty talker, too. How about you be my girl? Daddy’s girl. I touch the pale pink choker at my throat and smile even more. I can so do that.
As I disembark the train and walk up the street to my parents’ house, I gaze happily into the big, clear evening sky. I have a feeling this summer is going to be amazing.