Georgia's Daddy

by Dinah McLeod

  Sam let out a sigh, said, “All right then,” and started the engine.

  It only took a minute for her to realize that they weren’t heading to town. “Hey, um, aren’t we going out to dinner?”

  “Well, that was the plan. But I distinctly remember a deal where you’d get your essay done in order for us to go out. Since you didn’t, I guess I’m taking you home.”

  Her mouth literally dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am very serious,” he said without looking at her.

  “But… but that’s just… silly!” she spluttered.

  “Is it? You didn’t seem to think so when we made the agreement, but since you didn’t keep your end, all of a sudden it’s silly?”

  His voice stayed calm but Georgia’s rose despite it. “I thought you were just kidding!”

  “Well, I reckon you know now that when I say something, I mean it.”

  “Even when it’s stupid?” she burst out, annoyed. She was frustrated with the whole situation—with herself for forgetting to write the damn essay, with Sam for making such a big deal out of it, with the fact that a date she’d been so excited about apparently wasn’t going to happen.

  “Georgia, I gave you specific instructions, and you chose to ignore them. There are consequences to that, whether you like it or not.”

  He still hadn’t looked at her, and his voice was still reasonable, which in the face of her own ire just plain pissed her off. “Fine. Well, maybe we just shouldn’t see each other at all then.” Finally, she had his full attention. She smiled a gloaty smile as he looked at her.

  “Is that really what you want to do?”

  “Well, it’s apparently what you want to do. You obviously don’t care very much about me or what I want, so maybe we should just end things right here.” Feeling very proud of herself, she noted that they were pulling into her driveway. As soon as he stopped the engine, she reached for the handle.

  “Just a minute now.”

  She paused, smiling that cat-that-ate-the-canary grin as she removed her hand. She’d won. Yes, it had been a childish move, but she’d won, and in that instant victory tasted delicious. She would savor it, along with dessert that evening. “Yes?”

  But when Sam spoke, his voice wasn’t pleading, or even reconciliatory as she’d expected. Instead, it was sort of… stern. “We had a deal. You understood that. You didn’t hold up your end, and you don’t get to be mad at me for your choices.”

  Okay, a lot stern. “But—”

  “Stop. I’m talking now.”

  She pressed her lips together firmly, pouting.

  “You might be confused about our relationship, so let me make this clear for you. You do not get to act out and play the brat just because you’re not getting your own way. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she grumbled.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  She glowered at him. “I said yes, Sir.”

  “Very good. Now that you’ve been warned, you should also know that acting the way you just did will result in consequences.”

  “Whatever.” She reached for the door handle and was about to open it when she felt his hand come down on her leg, giving her pause. Maybe this was it. Maybe he was going to apologize and tell her that he’d changed his mind.

  “You know, I can’t say I’m overly fond of this attitude, little girl.”

  That did it. She grabbed his hand and moved it off her leg. “Stop calling me that!”

  “You know what? That’s it, I’ve had enough. If you want me to stop calling you little girl, then stop acting like one. And there’s only one surefire remedy that I know.” Then he reached across the bench seat and pulled her toward him.

  She felt a second of panic and tried to fend him off, but it was of little use. She was quickly hauled over-the-knee and staring down at the butter-soft faux leather of the interior. “Sam! No!” She smacked the seat in the frustration, then quickly realized that it might not be the best way to convince him to change his mind. “Please, Sam, don’t do this.”

  “Sorry, we’re a little past that point now.” Then, without another word he pulled up the skirt of the cute dress she’d put on just for their evening out.

  “Sam… don’t! If you do, I won’t forgive you!”

  “Do you deserve a spanking?” he asked, as calmly as though it was the most reasonable question in the world.

  Georgia took a deep breath, trying to sound calmer than she felt when she answered. “I shouldn’t have acted that way, but—”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to risk it.”

  “Sam—” Her protest was cut short when his hand landed with a loud crack on the back of her panties. “Ouch!”

  He didn’t answer, except with another echoing smack to the middle of her rear. Then he followed it by another.

  In no time at all Georgia felt her cheeks smarting. The last time, he’d spanked her on the seat of her pants and that had hurt badly enough. She’d had no idea that only removing one layer of clothing would make such a difference, but there was no denying that it did. A particularly stern spank had her yelping. “Sam!” she pleaded as she tried to move her bottom out of spankable range, frustratingly to no avail. “Please! It hurts!”

  “Does it?” he asked, still so level-headed as he swatted her poor, defenseless rear. “Well, your attitude hurt me. I was looking forward to tonight too.” He punctuated his words with another firm swat. “But you didn’t do what you needed to do, so I had to bring you home.” Smack. “It’s not my fault, but you chose to give me attitude for it.”

  “I’m sorry!” she squealed as another ass-stinging scorcher landed.

  “Are you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Sorry for the way you acted, or for the fact that you’re getting a spanking?”

  He’d paused her punishment for the moment and Georgia’s mind raced to come up with an answer that would keep her out of trouble. “Both?”

  Swat!

  She winced. That must have been the wrong answer.

  “Your behavior is unacceptable, and I know you can do better than that. So this is a little reminder to be the lady I know you can be.” Another three quick, sharp spanks fell in rapid succession.

  She was crying when he let her up. She swiped at her eyes angrily, not wanting him to see her tears. She was so ticked at him, she could hardly stand it. How dare he? She wasn’t his to just pull over his lap and spank whenever he felt like it, darn it!

  “I know you’re ready to run off and have yourself a good cry. You can do that, but afterwards, you need to sit on that red, sore bottom and type that essay. Yes, Sir?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she grumbled.

  “Georgia…”

  The edge of warning in his voice made her bottom twinge. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Better. Now, before you go, there’s one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

  She was happy to pout, staring down at her arms folded protectively across her chest, but when Sam didn’t continue, she ventured to look at him.

  He smiled gently with her eyes on him. “Georgia, I think you’re a beautiful person, inside and out. Generally, you’re very sweet and kind, and funny as hell.”

  She was leaning toward softening at the compliment, except that she sensed an annoying but coming.

  “But you also have a tendency to procrastinate and act out when you don’t get your way.”

  Georgia huffed loudly. “I don’t act out—” She stopped, her protest turning into a deeper pout when he arched his brows at her.

  “My point is, I think a girl like you would benefit from stern discipline from time to time.”

  “If you’re talking about more of what you just did, then no, thank you.”

  “Only when you deserve it,” he teased, bopping her nose.

  “I don’t like being treated like a child,” she groused. “I don’t even like it when you call me by those names—little girl.” She wrinkled
her nose to prove her point.

  “I don’t expect you to like the punishments. It wouldn’t really be punishment if you did. But what about after?”

  “After?”

  “Yes, when I pull you on my lap, like this.” He scooped her up and dropped her in his lap to demonstrate. “When I rub your back, and tell you that you took your spanking like a good girl?”

  Funny how even the change of just one little word made all the difference. She bit her lip to hide her smile. “Well, that’s not so bad, but I just don’t know…”

  “I’d like to be your daddy, if you’d let me.”

  Georgia’s eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. “I… I don’t understand.”

  “It means that I want to take care of you. I want to protect you, even from yourself. I want to reward you when you’re good and punish you when you’re naughty. I want to cuddle you, and make you feel safe. I want to make sure you know every day that you’re loved. All you have to do is let me.”

  She was at a loss for words. That was a first. She literally had no idea what to say.

  “You don’t have to answer right now. Just take some time and think about it.”

  “No, I… I don’t need time to think. I… I can’t, Sam.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I don’t want to. That’s… I’m not into stuff like that. You make it sound really nice and all, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not my thing. Sorry.” Then, before he could reply, she scurried off his lap and opened the door and climbed out. “Goodnight, Sam.” She closed the door and headed for the house without a single backward glance.

  * * *

  He watched her go, feeling a pang as she didn’t so much as wave goodbye. Not that he should have expected her to. In fact, he should have known exactly what to expect. True, he’d only done this a time or two before, but it had ended the same way every time. The thing about Georgia was, it just seemed to hurt more now that it was her.

  “When will I learn to keep my damn mouth shut?” Sam mumbled aloud as he watched her sprint inside the house.

  He couldn’t help the deep, pulsing desire he had to dominate women. But he wanted to do more than that—he wanted to be everything he’d said to her and more. He wanted to comfort and protect, to provide guidance for a woman in need. And if ever there was a woman in need, it was Georgia Miller. But if she couldn’t see it, well, he sure couldn’t make her.

  “Samuel?” his gran called out as he walked inside. “Aren’t you home a bit early?”

  “A bit,” he called back. He’d hoped to stave off this conversation for a few days, but it didn’t look like he was going to get that lucky.

  “Is Georgia with you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, didn’t the two of you have a date?”

  “We… we decided not to go tonight.”

  “Oh, Samuel,” she sighed, and he could hear her disappointment from clear in the other room. He could just imagine how her face would look, too. She would be wearing that mask of hers that was stubbornly determined to be positive despite the fact that they both knew how let down she was. “I had high hopes for this one.”

  Me too, Gran. Me too.

  Chapter Four

  He hadn’t seen her in three days, so he knew she wasn’t about to change her mind, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about her. Thinking about Georgia had become a habit in the short time that he’d known her and it was apparently going to be harder to break than he’d thought. It was strange, because the two times he’d gone through this before he’d been with the girl a lot longer before he brought up the idea of her being his little. You would think that each of those would have hurt more, he should have been more invested, but somehow Georgia had wormed her way into his heart from the very beginning. It was only now that he was realizing how very deep she’d gone.

  Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t see her again—chances were that last night was exactly the motivation she’d needed to get her essay done. She would probably be choosing her college based on how far away she could get from this town. From him. If he did happen to bump into her before she left, she would either turn away and pretend not to notice him, or she would be brave and make awkward chitchat until she could find a reason to get away. The thought of either stung more than he’d expected.

  Focus, man, he told himself as he looked at the tractor. He was hoping to have it up and running by planting season, and even though that was a few months off, suddenly he found he had the strength and energy of at least five men and had managed to knock everything else out of the way already. When he got this finished—assuming he did, that was—he’d have nothing else to do but to finally get around to installing those shelves his grandmother had been asking him to put up.

  “Sam?”

  Her voice sounded tremulous, certainly not the sassy, confident girl he knew, but he’d still know that voice anywhere. Then when he poked his head up and saw her, the breath literally left his lungs in a whoosh. His memories of her were nowhere as beautiful as the living, breathing vision that was Georgia.

  “Can… can we talk a minute?”

  “Sure.” He set down the wrench he’d been wielding and sat up, grinning at her. He couldn’t help it—the girl made him smile. But to his bewilderment, as she looked at him, her face began to crumple and she began to cry. “Georgia? What is it?”

  “N-nothing. I just… I don’t know w-why you’re… so nice to me!” she wailed.

  He was up on his feet like a shot and moving with deliberate steps toward her. She held up her hands and signaled him to stop. Sam paused, undecided, until she broke into great, heaving sobs. That made his mind up quick and in a few steps he had her pulled into his arms.

  “Hey, what’s this about? I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems,” he attempted to soothe her as he ran his hand over her hair.

  “I-it is!” she insisted, burying her face into his shirt and soaking him with her tears.

  “Okay, well, whatever it is, we’ll get it figured out. Why don’t you calm down, now, and we’ll see what can be done?”

  “Y-you’re too n-nice!” she exclaimed again, dissolving into body-racking sobs.

  Sam moved his other hand to her back and rubbed up and down, patiently waiting for her tears to subside. It didn’t matter how long it took, or the fact that his girl was in tears. She was in his arms, and that was all that mattered. He’d wait it out for as long as she needed for him to.

  * * *

  She couldn’t believe she was here. She couldn’t believe she was dripping mascara-colored tears on Sam’s shirt and he was just standing there, acting like she was a princess. She loved the way he held her—even now, even after she’d been so mean to him, even though she hadn’t bothered to so much as text since their last conversation, he was still holding her and letting her cry her heart out when he probably had much better things to do. But somehow, she’d known this was how he’d be. He was a person who was unfailingly kind, and he would be that way with her, too, even though she’d hurt him. Even though she’d lied.

  Of course, he didn’t know about the lie. Not yet. But that was why she was here, tripping over every other word she tried to use to explain.

  She felt awful about the way she’d reacted to him when he’d suggested that she be his little girl. The truth was, she’d been confused by her feelings, and still mad about having a sore butt and she’d used that moment to lash out at him. He’d been vulnerable, he’d opened up to her, and she’d been mean for no reason. And the guilt had eaten her up alive ever since.

  The truth was, the idea of having a loving, protective authority figure didn’t bother her that much. What he’d suggested sounded kind of nice. But she’d been caught off guard, and instead of taking time to process what he’d suggested, she’d taken off and run. And she’d regretted it every moment after. For one thing, Sam deserved better than that, and for another, she hadn’t realized quite how much she cared about him until she wa
sn’t seeing him every day.

  That had been another bad choice. She’d felt too embarrassed to tell Sam the truth, that she’d been more pensive than put off by his suggestion, and the longer she waited, the more she felt like she couldn’t come clean. By day three of no contact, she was sure he must hate her. She’d seen the look on his face when she’d turned him down flat, which was exactly why she hadn’t been able to look back as she went into the house. If it had been her, she’d hate her, so surely he must.

  But this morning she’d known she wouldn’t be able to take it for another day. She had to see him, even if he did hate her, just to tell him that she was sorry. She knew that didn’t mean that he’d give her a chance to correct her mistake—she didn’t deserve that—but at least she would come clean.

  Only, the minute he’d looked up and saw her, his eyes had lit up and she’d known that he wouldn’t hate her. He wouldn’t hate her, because he didn’t have it in him, and that was why she’d started crying in the first place. She’d ruined a great thing with a great guy just because she’d been afraid.

  “That stuff you were talking about earlier…” She swallowed past the burning lump in her throat, forcing herself to look up and meet his eyes. “About… me being a… your…” She couldn’t go on. She gritted her teeth against the sobs that longed to burst free, forcing them back down. But that didn’t stop the burning hot tears from continuing to rain down onto her cheeks. Once she’d started, she couldn’t stop, and she began sniffling as they poured down her face.

  “What’s this about, Georgia? You don’t need to be so upset.”

  “B-but… I do,” she choked out, peering up at him with watery eyes. “I… I lied to you, Sam.”

  His brow furrowed as he looked down at her. He was torn between giving her the comfort she so obviously needed and grilling her on the lie she’d supposedly told. In the end, he took her by the hand and led her to the nearby picnic table. He took a seat, pulling her down along with him. She took to his lap easily, immediately snuggling into his chest. The act warmed him to the point where he didn’t even feel the tears she continued to shed into his shirt. He held her tight, cuddling her and pressing gentle kisses to her bent head until she calmed down.