Page 7 of A Daddy for Christmas 2: Kitt

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, trying to look modest and well-meaning.

As soon as the door close, I popped his ass a couple more times and we rode to our floor. His face was flushed with anger. I hustled him off the elevator and down the hall, tossing him through the door and locking it firmly behind us. Spinning around, I caught him again as he tried to make a break for the bathroom, probably intending to lock himself in. I grabbed him and pushed him face first up against the wall.

I was trying really hard not to hurt him, because he was so much smaller than I was, but he was making it difficult. I leaned against him, squashing him in place with my body and putting my hands over his. “Settle down, damn it! Stop all that yelling and behave yourself. Now!”

He leaned over trying to bite my arm, so I turned him to face the wall and popped his little ass a few times as he yelled, “Stop it! No!”

Trembling with anger, he huffed and puffed and finally settled down, but still I hesitated. I knew I should release him; I knew I was probably scaring him, but I didn’t want him to run again.

Hell, the truth was, I didn’t want to let him go.

“Are you feeling calmer?”

I got a quick nod of the head.

“Are you going to be good if I let you sit back down?”

Another quick nod.

“Use your words, Kitten.”

“Yes,” he spat out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll be good! Damn it, let me go!”

I tightened my hold instead. “We’re going to be together for a little while, and I think we need to get a few things straight between us. I warn you that I don’t like bad boys. Are you a bad boy, Kitten?”

“Fuck you,” he said, pouty and sullen as hell. “And don’t call me that stupid name.”

“See,” I said, shaking my head. “I think I can call you anything I like. And that’s not an answer. I think you are a bad boy. So why don’t you own it? Just tell me the truth. Admit you’re a bad boy, but you’re going to be good for me now.”

He huffed a few times and squirmed and sighed, but I said it again in his ear. “Come on. Tell me, so I can let you go.”

“Fuck you,” he said through his teeth.

I grinned at how pissed off he sounded. “Still not what I need to hear. Tell me you’re going to change your ways now and you’ll be a good boy for me.”

I nudged him when he didn’t answer. “Will you?”

Finally, he shouted his reply, his face bright red. “Yes, damn it!”

“Yes, what?”

More sighs and finally, “Yes. I’ll be good. Just please get off me.”

“I like the word ‘please.’ Okay, I’m moving away now, and you’re going to be calm, right?”

A quick nod of the head.

I eased off him, and he whirled around, staring up at me, openly belligerent, both his fists clenched and ready for a fight. I looked down at them pointedly. “I don’t think you want to do that.”

We stared at each other a little longer before he finally dropped his gaze and unclenched his fists.

“Do you?” I prompted.

“I guess not.”

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