She spun to face the corner again, wedging her nose practically behind the large wooden furniture. Why had she thought a spanking was a good idea? There were several reasons, but suddenly, none of them sounded that good.
“I know you’re mad at me. You’re not supposed to spank while you’re angry. So, why are you rolling up your sleeves? You only did that before for a really bad spanking. You know what? I’ve decided I don't want you to spank me.”
Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even convince herself. Jaxoncertainly wasn’t buying it. She reangled her face so that she could see in the mirror and still have her nose in the corner. Ish.
She gasped at the sight of his brawny forearms.
Both of them.
He was strong before, but now? Good lord.
Control yourself, Tazzy. You are not getting turned on by this.
The hell she wasn’t.
“Corner time is over,” his voice drilled into her.
Spinning around, Tazzy threw both her hands in front of her. “Stop!”
“Stop?” He paused, eyebrows raised.
“It..It means Still Talking Out Problems.”
Resuming his walk toward her, he grinned like a shark. “That’s funny, I was taught it meant Spank Till Obedience Prevails.”
Rats! Apparently, New Jaxon was still as smart as Old Jaxon, too.
She shifted her hands to cover her bottom, splaying her fingers to cover as much surface area as possible.
“Move your hands, naughty girl,” he said, his voice deceptively mild. “You know better than that.”
“I said I don’t want you to spank me!” She tried to plant her feet, as if that would do any good. True to form, he simply picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of naughty potatoes.
When they reached the couch, he lowered her to the floor in front of him, then sat in the middle of the couch. She did her best to stare him down. Well, until he turned her world upside down. Literally. He pulled her across his thighs and placed one hand in the small of her back.
“I heard you,” he said, each word punctuated by a swat to her backside. “What I didn’t hear was your safe word.
New Jaxon’s hands were much harder than Old Jaxon’s, and Old Jaxon’s had been pretty darn hard.
“Is your safe word another of the many things you’ve changed while I’ve been away?”
It was never a good idea to laugh while over a Daddy’s knees, especially a sardonic laugh, but she couldn’t help it. He had made it soundlike he was on vacation or something for a week instead of eight years in prison.
Her humor was immediately stifled as he swatted the backs of each thigh three times. Her laughter turned into a sharp cry that almost drowned out his words. Almost.
“If you have the desire to laugh, I must have lost my touch. Here, let me try harder.”
She tapped her toes against the floor, matching his rhythm. Shifting her weight, she did her best to shift off his lap. When that didn’t work, she tipped her hips so her cheeks faced the back of the couch. But he pressed his hand down on the top of her buttocks and pushed her back in place.
“You never did answer my question. What’s your safe word now, Taziana?” he repeated.
“It’s the same,” she cried out. “It’s red. But instead of a Valentine's heart, it now stands for the blood of my enemies, like you!”
Who knew a Daddy could laugh his head off while his hard, calloused hand whacked away at an already tender bottom? She couldn’t help it. She reached back to cover her backside.
“Red,” he mused. “Let’s see if I can turn your ass that color. And, by the way, if you don’t move that hand, I’m taking off my belt,” he growled. “Final warning.”
Scissoring her legs, she willed her hand to move. This time, he secured it to the small of her back under his hand.