Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
But where was she going to hide? She headed into the bathroom and climbed into the bath, lying down. It was the perfect hiding place.
He would never find her.
She was hiding in the bath.
Millie always hid in the bath. When they were playing hide and seek. Or she’d done something naughty. Or if she just needed a few minutes to think.
She didn’t even bother filling it up with water for her thinking time. She’d just lay down in it.
Apparently, it helped give her inspiration.
His girl was a nut.
And he fucking loved her.
Spike didn’t know what he’d do without her. And he never intended to find out.
Sometimes he worried about losing her like he’d lost Jacqui, his first wife. She’d died during a carjacking and for a long time he’d blamed himself for not protecting her. Then Millie came along and taught him that there was more to life than existing that he’d started to forgive himself.
His girl ate up life. She lived every day like it was precious. As though she couldn’t stand to waste it.
And she made him so happy.
Even when she made some sort of exploding glitter bomb and tricked him into opening it.
Spike knew he would be finding glitter in places that glitter wasn’t meant to be for days.
So the Little brat was going to pay for that.
He stepped quietly into the bathroom.
Was she . . . singing to herself?
He rolled his eyes. She could at least act a bit concerned. Or like she was trying to hide.
“What are you singing?” he asked.
She screamed and put her hands over her chest, glaring up at him. “Daddy! You scared me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Did I?”
“Yes. You should apologize when you scare someone. I might have peed myself.”
“Just as well you’re in the bath, then. Makes it easier to clean you up.”
She put her hands over her face. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“And I can’t believe that you gave me a glitter bomb.”
“Actually, it was a glitter bomb invitation.” She moved her hands from her face. “Did you read it?”
“No, brat. I didn’t read it. I was too busy chasing after your naughty bottom.”
“Rude. Anyone would think you didn’t appreciate my glitter bomb invitation.”
“If that anyone is you, then yes, you should think that. I’m going to be finding glitter for days.”
“Oh, yeah. You really shouldn’t have run through the house like that, Daddy.” She wiggled a finger at him. “You’re going to have to clean that all up.”
“Won’t be me cleaning it up,” he told her.
“Well. I don’t think Mr. Fluffy will do a very good job.”
“Mr. Fluffy?” he asked.
“Um, yeah. He doesn’t have any thumbs. Makes it hard for him to work a vacuum or a broom.”
“Right. Because that’s the reason that he won’t clean it up . . . his lack of thumbs.”
“You really shouldn’t mention that to him, though. I don’t want his feelings to be hurt. Like when the vet called him f-a-t,” she whispered the last three letters.
As though she thought the damn dog could hear her.
Or spell.
Although there was no doubt that Mr. Fluffy knew the word sausage.
And diet. The look that he’d given Spike when he’d mentioned putting him on a diet . . .
Yeah, Spike had slept with one eye open that night. He shouldn’t have worried, though. Mr. Fluffy was too lazy to seek revenge.
Although a few days later he found a half-eaten sausage in his boot. It had definitely felt like a threat.
“You’ll be the one cleaning it all up,” he told her. “Just like you’re going to help clean me up.”
Her mouth dropped open. “But I didn’t make the mess, Daddy! You opened the invitation, and then you ran through the house, chasing me and spilling glitter. I really do think you owe me an apology.”
“You know what I think I owe you?” he asked in a low voice.
She gave him a suspicious look. “No. What?”
“A spanking.”
2
Aspanking!
That wasn’t very nice.
“I don’t deserve a spanking, Daddy,” she told him.
“You glitter bombed me.”
“That’s not a spankable offense.”
“Then you laughed,” he pointed out.
“Also not a spankable offense.”
“It’s a spankable offense if I say it’s a spankable offense,” he told her.
She gasped. “So you’re allowed to just make rules willy-nilly now, huh, Daddy? That doesn’t seem fair.”
“What isn’t fair, brat, is that I now have glitter in my ears. And down my T-shirt and probably in my jeans.”
Huh.
She glanced at his crotch. “You need some help getting rid of that, Daddy?”
“Sure do, brat.”
Reaching down, he lifted her out of the bath. He really had to stop hauling her around or he would hurt himself.
But she knew better than to say that out loud.
That would be a spankable offense.
Millie knew he wasn’t truly serious about the spanking. Or she thought he wasn’t, until he turned her around so her back was to him.