Chapter Twenty-One
The next day, Gunnar paced the kitchen and living room, waiting for Twyla to come home. Last night had been a proving ground of sorts for both of them and he was hoping that as she’d come through with flying colors yesterday, so too would she today.
After her spanking, he’d made her sit back on her heels while writing an apology and a thank you to Miss Williams. From where he’d been preparing dinner, he could hear her suck air through her teeth occasionally when she shifted, the thorough heating of her backside he’d given reminding her of her penance.
When she was finished with that and he’d given his approval, she sat on one of the firm leather barstools at the counter and studied some more while he finished cooking.
They’d brought dinner up to the nursery where he could strap her into the high chair and spoon feed her before putting her in her diaper and nightgown and giving her her nighttime bottle. He’d also freshened up the color on her bottom before tucking her in, and again this morning before they’d left for school.
If at all possible, he would’ve done it one more time before she reported to detention to retake her test. Alas, there was nowhere in the school private or soundproof enough to deliver a good thorough hand spanking without anyone knowing. So he’d had to settle for a few pinches under her skirt before he sent her off to Miss Williams.
And now he had to wait. And wait. It was agony.
Finally there was the jingling of keys in the door and he had to hold himself back from jogging over and dragging her inside. To keep himself from it, he rested his hands on the far side of the kitchen counter and waited for her red hair and the soft blue shirtdress she’d worn to school today to make an appearance. After what felt like an hour but was at most several seconds, she rounded the corner from the living room and stopped in her tracks when she saw him.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi yourself, little girl. How was your retake?”
Gunnar steeled himself. It would be fine if she’d done badly. Hell, it would be fine if she’d completely failed. If he were being completely honest, he would find a way to make it okay even if she had bolted from detention and not taken the test at all. She might just need more time. But graduating high school was important to her and she’d seemed so grateful to be given a second chance, he doubted she would walk out like that. She blinked at him and then approached slowly, holding some paper in her hands.
“Did Miss Williams grade it already?”
Twyla nodded, teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip and her eyes wide.
Though it was tempting to reach across the counter and snatch it from her to look at her results, he wouldn’t. Yes, he enjoyed taking things from her, but he much preferred to coax her into handing him precious parts of herself.
“May I see?”
She blinked at him before putting the papers facedown on the counter and sliding it across to him. She had far more control than he did in the moment and it both riled and entertained him. He snatched it from where she’d laid it on the counter and flipped it over, scanning for the grade. Damn Aaliyah for not writing it on the front page—he had to flip through to the end, and…
Holy shit. She’d had him convinced that it was going to be a middling grade at best which he would have been delighted by. But his bright little star, she’d done so much better than that. Always dazzling him.
“You got a ninety-six. That’s an A, little girl. You killed it.”
He was grinning at her like a fool, and finally she let her act break with a laugh before running around the counter and launching herself at him. He caught her easily, held her to him while he spun her around, careful not to catch her feet on anything.
Gunnar had been fortunate to have a lot of happy moments in his life. Memories of feeling delight and elation and pride were not exactly everyday occurrences, but commonplace enough. But there was something special about this. There was something special abouther. It astounded him how little Twyla needed to flourish and he couldn’t wait to see what else she would do.
Of course there was the possibility that she would feel at some point that she’d outgrown him, that there was nothing left for him to provide. It was one of the hazards of being a daddy, that sometimes your little girl grew up. Outgrewyou.
He would support her in anything she wanted because that was what a good daddy would do and above all he wanted what was best for her, but it would hurt especially if Twyla left.
He’d loved all his little girls but there was something about the way she’d squirmed and giggled her way into his heart, how she’d put her trust in him from the start and allowed him to care for her.
Plus, while she had done all the hard work of growing and changing, he’d like to think that he’d helped. At least a little. Helping people, watching them grow and claim their potential to make it work for them, that had always been satisfying for him. Gratifying down to the marrow of his bones. It was one of the reasons he’d become a teacher.
But this little girl pressed against him right now, all full of sunshine and light, so different from when he’d literally picked her up bloody and broken from the ground? She was something truly special. Once in a lifetime and he gave her an extra tight squeeze since he couldn’t hold on forever.
He stopped spinning and let her slide down his body though he still kept his arms around her. Once her feet were on the ground, she looked up at him and he was smacked upside the head again with how beautiful she was. She’d been beautiful when she came to him, but now with some color to her skin, gloss to her hair, and some weight added to her frame she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Made his heart pound in his chest, made his cock get heavy and begin to harden.
“Are you proud, Daddy?”
Gunnar couldn’t believe she had to ask. “Yes, I am so very proud of you. I would’ve been proud of you no matter what grade you got, but this makes me extra proud. You amaze me every day.”
Twyla flushed and looked away from him. It was hard for her, sometimes, when he said nice things to her, and she’d shy away from him. He’d let her, so long as he knew she heard them.
He dragged his hands up to cup her face and leaned down to kiss her. Gunnar kissed her all the time, but more often on the forehead, her neck, her shoulder, her cheek. Sometimes they kissed on the mouth but though he wanted to devour her, he hadn’t wanted to press. Not too hard. Not with everything else he asked her for, not with all the other pieces of herself she’d given him.