Page 9 of Dirty Dillon

“Yes.”

“I like it,” she breathes out. “Happy?”

Immensely. “Good girl.”

The phone rings but she hasn’t figured the thing out yet, and I don’t want her hanging up on any more customers, so I go answer it. When I come back, she’s holding out a mug for me.

“It’s done!” She looks so damn pleased with herself.

She watches me very closely as I sip.

I was wrong. Turns out shecanruin coffee. She can ruin coffee a lot.

It’s fucking awful. Battery acid would taste better. But I was in the army for nine years, so I’m used to caffeine that doubles as jet fuel and is gritty enough to exfoliate your teeth.

“It’s great,” I lie.

The proud smile on her face makes it all worth it. I can tell she’s eager to please me, to make me happy.

My heart swells with something I don’t want to name. God damn, thesefuckingfeelings.

A few hours later, Cressida’s sassiness has earned her another demerit and a healthy dose of frustration for us both. She’s unused to hard work, and the pile of paperwork is clearly wearing on her nerves.

When I find a stack of papers in the trash can at closing time, I can’t help but laugh. She’s going to be a handful. I’ve never felt so alive. I was joking about the demerit system, but seeing her latest rebellion makes me realize she’s at least curious about discipline.

Which is just fine by me.

I crook a finger at her. “Over here. Now.”

She startles, eyes going wide as she takes in my stern expression. For a moment, she looks poised to argue again but thinks better of it. Slowly, she makes her way over to stand before me, cheeks already flushed in anticipation.

“This is your third demerit,” I say, grasping her wrist and tugging her to the couch. She lets out a little squeak as she tumbles across my lap, ass perched high. “You’ve earned yourself a spanking, princess.”

She shakes her head. “It was an accident.”

Well, that definitely wasn’t a “let go of me” or a “no.”

“You accidentally threw away the work orders you were supposed to be filing?”

She wriggles, goddammit. That feels good. “You should really step into this century and keep digital files, Grandad.”

“Now I know this is what you want.” I flip up her skirt, palming her ass under her lacy panties. She’s so soft, so supple under my hand. I give an appreciative groan, massaging her cheek. “Such a perfect ass. I knew it would be.”

Cressida squirms, torn between protest and pleasure. I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs, her arousal scenting my lap. She’s just as turned on as I am. I gather the panties to the middle like a thong so I have access to her skin.

With a sharp smack, I bring my hand down on her right cheek. She jerks, a strangled gasp escaping her lips.

“Be. Still,” I order, punctuating each word with another firm swat.

“I thought you said one spanking,” she protests.

“One spankingsession. Now be still.”

Her ass is turning a pretty shade of pink, and she’s starting to whimper, but the sounds are born more of desire than pain. “You want me to stop, you say the word granddad again. We clear?”

She nods.

“Words, Cress.”

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