Chapter 3 #2
Curses flew from my mouth in his direction as Callum carried me as if I had no control of what I said. Nasty untrue things about everything from his appearance to his overall demeanor. His handling of me did not quiet my mouth. I wasn’t insulting his character exactly, but I wasn’t polite either.
“I apologize for not being more present, Quinn. However, what you just did was incredibly rude. You already know how I feel about that,” he said, shifting me so I was more secure over his shoulder.
“Apology not accepted!” I yelled into his flannel, my voice muffled.
He cracked his palm off my ass, several times in a fast succession.
“Still not accepted!”
We were about halfway up the stairs when he stilled.
“When I said we were going to start our day with a spanking, I meant it.” Callum rubbed the spots on my ass that he’d punished for a full thirty seconds.
“Due to circumstances out of my control, I could not stick to that decision, something I sincerely regret. But you will not act out. Not against me.”
My anger was already dissipating. I knew he was busy, we both were. But after declaring our status, it bothered me to feel like I wasn’t a priority. “Uh-huh. I’m used to people not following through intentionally or otherwise. I’ll get over it.”
“Quinn.” He swatted my ass hard enough that I jerked. “I’ve been juggling fires, honey. It wasn’t intentional.”
“Whatever you say.” I agreed mostly to get the lecture over with. I missed him and provoking his dominant side shouldn’t have been my first thought.
“Hear me clearly, little girl. If you need my attention, you come get me. You text me. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.” The new title slipped out of my mouth seemingly of its own accord. It wasn’t fair, I told myself. But the way he spoke had me feeling small, contrite, and entirely unworthy. Besides, he’d offered it as an option and it felt right.
“If I’m your Daddy, then you’re going to trust that I’m doing the best I can to manage all of the things on my plate along with yours. I’m not the bad guy here, and I won’t be treated as such.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said again because something about his solid presence, one arm held tightly around my thighs grounded me. Plus he said the very thing that I’d done to him out loud. My brain had painted him as the bad guy.
“Good girl,” he said while rubbing my bottom through my jeans. “I love hearing you call me that.”
Referring to him as Daddy brought a level of comfort that I didn’t know existed.
My own father had only ever been Dad or Jack, and though he’d done his best, I was quite the spitfire.
Spirited, he used to call me whenever he went to a parent-teacher conference.
That was before he had the audacity to pass away and leave me on my own.
Not that I blamed him for dying, but it had rattled me.
I’d been seeking discipline, comfort, and grounding for far longer than I cared to admit.
Callum walked us into the bedroom. It had always belonged to Nana but it was the biggest one in the house. Sensibility mattered.
“You redecorated Nana’s room,” I said, suddenly looking around.
The bedroom had been transformed into a space more suited for him.
Navy-blue accent wall. A rich, creamy beige for the other walls.
Massive California-king bed with blue bedding.
Dark cherrywood dressers, nightstands with polished brass lamps on each one, bookshelves, and a matching vanity. He’d certainly been busy.
A vanity?
I stared at it, wondering why he’d picked a more feminine piece of furniture, scalloped around the edges and absolutely gorgeous.
“I thought it might be a nice spot for you to get ready,” he answered as he followed my line of sight. “I wasn’t erasing Nana. But I couldn’t settle in with her ghost lingering in every corner.”
He’d added details with me in mind! That one small thing spoke volumes about my place in his life.
Callum wasn’t going to abandon me. Not if he was planning a future.
The knowledge erased the anger, but then the guilt settled in behind my ribs.
Setting me on my feet, Callum leaned down and rested both of his palms on my shoulders.
“I understand, Callum. I think she would have loved it.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m also really sorry,” I said contritely. Anger was bubbling through my tummy. It wasn’t directed at Callum anymore. It was all the times I’d been let down. Over and over again. Losing everyone who mattered.
He shifted us around, sitting me on the edge of the bed. I took a minute to compose myself, failing poorly.
“What specifically are you sorry for, babygirl?”
Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over my cheeks with abandon and he hadn’t even punished me yet. “I saw a pattern.”
“Tell Daddy why you’re spiraling. What is the pattern you saw?”
“Everyone who has ever mattered to me leaves me,” I whispered. “I know my attitude is awful. And it’s not really directed at you. Please give me another chance?”
“I’m not going to pretend that the timing of this doesn’t suck,” he said, squeezing my hand. “The circumstances of how we reconnected are even worse. I promise you, being in a relationship with you is the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“It was a good choice,” I agreed. “But I’m letting my fears and insecurities, ones I haven’t had in a long time, take over my rational thoughts.
” I confessed the real reasons I’d doused him in water a second time.
Brushing my eyes, I tried to get the tears to stop.
Callum pulled me sideways on his lap, kissing my temple and then my nose.
“Listen to me. I’m not going to ghost you. I’ll do my best to stick around for as long as you’ll have me. Please try not to let your fears overwhelm you. And if they do? Come sit on my lap and let me take them off your shoulders.”
He held me close to him, one hand on the back of my head as if he could hold all my broken pieces together. We sat in the quiet comfort of his room without speaking until my tears dried.
“So, you forgive me for the impromptu wet-shirt contest? Which you won, by the way.”
He chuckled despite the seriousness of the conversation. “Of course I forgive you, all you needed to say was that you were sorry. But we’re still going to address your behavior.”
His tone flipped something inside my belly and I pressed my hand to it. “We addressed it. Lesson learned.” I forced a smile.
“While I appreciate everything you shared, the reasoning behind your actions and your fears, we have not yet addressed it. But we are going to. Strip to your panties.”
I lowered my feet to the floor, but I hated the implication behind the order. I stripped down, mustering the courage to face the music. At least I’d worn my thong this time around and not those boring granny panties.
Callum hadn’t given me a strict set of rules, but respect and communication were a given. He had the final say in all decision-making. I’d thought his decree gave him carte blanche on running the ranch, but it only covered decisions about our relationship not business matters.
He stood up, removed his damp flannel and peeled off his t-shirt leaving him in only a gray A-line tank with his jeans. The sight had me drooling.
Callum unbuckled his belt, tugging it through the loops, the leather whipping through the air. He wrapped his hand around the buckle, the belt dangling freely. “Bend over the bed. Head down.”
“Your belt didn’t make it all the way off your body, Sir.”
“No, babygirl. It doesn’t appear it did. Bend.”
I bit down on my lip, the realization of how he was going to respond to my attitude slowly seeping in. “Yes, Sir.” I bent over, spreading my arms out to curl around the conveniently placed blanket at the edge. It gave me something to hold on to.
“That’s a good girl. You’ll get six.”
“Six? Is there a significance there or did you generate it from one of those online number pickers?” I asked, my nerves prickling with apprehension. He had spanked me more than once, but never with anything other than his palm.
“I haven’t touched my phone in a while, sweetheart. No, not an online app. Six is a lot when I haven’t used a strap on you before. But it should be bearable. Uncomfortable? Yes. Stingy? Yes. If you’re overwhelmed physically or otherwise, what do you say?”
“Um, stoplight? No. Red. Red like a stoplight so you know it’s over my pain threshold.”
“Very good. I’ll count this time,” he explained while dancing my pink thong down my legs with one hand and then off completely. I thought about what my ass looked like against the dark-gray comforter and mused that it was about to look a lot pinker by the time he was done.
“Are you ready, Quinn?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said though I doubted the words as I spoke them. I thought I was ready, but my ability to stay quiet and not squirm was another matter.
“That’s my good girl. One.”
The first stroke had the leather belt kissing my upper thighs. I yelled into the comforter. The sting was much worse than the one his palm left.
Callum ran his hands through my ponytail. “Breathe, babygirl. We’re not finished.”
“I hate your belt!”
“I didn’t think you’d like it. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Keep breathing through it.”
I nodded, moving my hand up to my mouth so I could bite my fist.
“Drop your hand, beautiful. I want to hear your reactions, it’s important to gauge where you’re at during this. Biting your fist will muffle your voice,” he explained. “If you say red, I need to stop immediately. Hands at your sides.”
I listened to the soft cadence of his voice, gentle and calming even with the knowledge that he was not done punishing me.
My behavior had been a cry for attention and he was replying in the way I’d agreed to.
I dropped my arms to my sides, and let my body relax into the soft mattress underneath me. “I’m breathing.”
“Good girl, nice and even for me. Two.”