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To anyone who got a praise kink from their religious trauma
“Pepper in a bar on a Friday night?” Jeff made a face. “Unlikely.”
“What?” He looked up from Paisleigh, his brows shooting up. “Was that offensive? It’s the truth. You hate going to bars.”
“Well that was back when you were a fun person,” Jeff said lightly. The silence in the room thickened and he looked up from his daughter. “I’m joking, I’m joking.”
Of course, I hadn’t really seen her ass, given she was wearing a coat. But every ass was biteable. Spankable.
