by Megan McCoy
Holly picked up her menu. That he’d talked about ordering wine rather than champagne hadn’t escaped her. He definitely didn’t plan to propose. Her mouth felt dry so she cleared her throat before answering. “I’m driving too.”
“Oh, right. I didn’t realise.” He jabbed a finger at the menu. “The seafood platter sounds good. Cold platter first, hot platter afterwards, with lime, lychees and chilli sorbet between them to cleanse the palate.”
Holly liked the idea of that too, but made a show of reading everything on the menu, because she really didn’t know what to say to Jerome.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be at a loss. He put the menu down and said, “Honestly, the trip to Bulgaria was an absolute disaster from start to finish.” He told her about the lack of hotel heating, the ski lift that broke down, the blizzard, the accident. “And of course, then the flight was cancelled,” he finished up. “Thank God I could get back today.”
“It sounds dire.”
Jerome grinned. “It’s a trip I shan’t forget, that’s for sure.”
The waiter set their drinks on the table and took their orders, both of them requesting the seafood platter.
“Any more drinks with the food?” the waiter asked.
“Just a couple of glasses of house white, please,” Jerome said. “We’re both driving.”
When the waiter had gone, Jerome took a long drag of beer. “Oh, that’s better,” he said. “So, what have you been up to while I was in Bulgaria?”
Holly told him about the office party and the catch-ups she’d had with friends, leaving out her drink with Erika the other evening. As she talked, a large and noisy family entered the restaurant and gathered around the table in the centre of the room. A man seated at one end started shouting to a man down at the other end. Three of the women leaned across the table to each other and started gossiping and laughing.
Jerome grimaced. “I don’t know why those two men didn’t sit together if they wanted a conversation. Hey, do you remember Kane? You met him at a party I took you to in the summer.”
“The travel writer Kane?”
“Yes. He says he’s giving up travel writing and is applying for a travel editor’s job with the Daily Gazette. His wife doesn’t like him being away so much.”
“Oh. Right.” Holly took a sip of cold, fruity wine. “That seems a bit rough on him. I got the impression he really liked travelling.”
“He does. He’ll hate a desk job. I don’t understand her attitude personally. It’s not like she didn’t know he was a travel writer who spent several months a year overseas from the moment she met him. They’ve been together years.”
Holly felt like a jug of water had been thrown over her. Was this his way of saying that Kane hadn’t kept secrets from Helen that she could suddenly discover and object to?
“I don’t think they’ll last if he gives up the travelling,” Jerome said. “He’ll be too restless.”
The cold platter arrived, saving Holly from having to respond.
“This is delicious,” she said chewing a bite of tender crab.
“Isn’t it?” he agreed.
They both tucked in eagerly. The family at the long table continued to be loud and boisterous, with two over-excited children constantly running around. The waiting staff looked nervous as they carried food to the tables, with the children almost cannoning into them.
“Sorry,” Jerome said. “I didn’t realise it would be this noisy here. I thought expensive meant quiet.”
She laughed. “It probably isn’t usually like this. The kids are excited with it being Christmas.”
She wished he’d say something. Tell her it was all over, even refer obliquely to her email. She tried to think of a way of bringing up the subject without actually using the ‘s’ word, but couldn’t.
A couple of tables away was another couple, about their age. They’d almost finished their meal and the waiter had gone over to ask if they wanted to order anything else. There was a sudden lull in the activity at the long table, and Holly heard the man say, “No, can I just have the bill now, please?”
His partner slammed down the wine glass she was holding. There was a shatter of glass as it broke.
“Careful,” the man said, “what’s…”
“What did you bring me here for tonight?” the woman demanded. She stood up and grabbed her coat.
“For a Christmas Eve dinner, what did you think?”
“I thought after all this time we’ve been together you were finally going to propose. But no! You’ve made a fool of me as usual! Well, we’re finished; I’m going home.”
She stormed out. The man rose awkwardly, and told the waiter he’d pay the bill at the counter.
The restaurant had gone quiet, but once the man had gone to the counter, there was laugher around the large table.
“He’s well rid of her,” one of the men declared. “Carrying on like that because he didn’t put a ring on her finger.”
“Why did she smash the glass, Dad?” one of the kids asked. “WHY DID SHE SMASH THE GLASS?” he bellowed when no one answered him.
The waiter cleaned up the mess left at the table. Another waiter came over to take Holly’s and Jerome’s empty plates away. When the sorbet arrived, Jerome started telling Holly about how upset their tour guide, Boriana, had been on their trip with everything going wrong. Holly only half-listened. She had some sympathy with the woman who’d had a meltdown about the non-existent proposal. She wished Jerome would be honest with her, tell her what was going on.
She spooned sorbet into her mouth. It was deliciously sharp.
“Dad, we shan’t miss Santa tonight, shall we?” one of the kids yelled. “I said Dad, we shan’t miss–”
“Don’t worry, we won’t miss Santa,” his mum assured him.
Soon, the hot seafood platter arrived and Holly and Jerome fell on the calamari rings, white fish, and king prawns.
The two kids started singing “Jingle Bells” and one of the men at the table joined in. Holly drained the last of her wine. Her head was beginning to throb. She’d felt so nervous about tonight, and she still didn’t know whether Jerome planned to dump her or not. Plus, the place was so noisy, especially those yelling kids. She wished she and Jerome had planned a quiet Christmas Eve dinner at her flat. Then they could have talked about her email and she could perhaps have reassured him about some things, if it was that that had put him off proposing.
The waiter came over and asked if they’d like to order anything else.
“No, I’d just like the bill, please,” Jerome said.
Holly’s spirits fell even more and she had to blink away tears. He definitely wasn’t going to propose and that could only mean that he was no longer sure that he wanted to be with her after her email. What other reason could there be for the change of heart?
Well, she wasn’t going to make a scene like the other woman. “I’m just going to pop to the bathroom,” she murmured. “I’ll take my coat, then I’ll be ready to leave.”
He nodded absently, as he fiddled in his coat for his wallet.
Holly walked through the restaurant thinking this was going to be the worst Christmas she’d ever had. She didn’t go anywhere near the bathroom, but instead, went outside. It was absolutely freezing out there and she wished she’d worn shoes with better grip on slippery pavements. She passed a group of revellers on her way to the car park. They yelled at her to have a Merry Christmas and she forced herself to smile. “Yes, you too.”
She’d just reached her car when her phone beeped.
Where are you? Still in the bathroom?
Holly ignored it. He’d realise she’d left the restaurant soon enough.
And by then she’d be back at her flat.
Jerome checked the time, scooped up the remaining white fish on his plate, drained his wine glass and checked the time again. Holly had been in the bathroom for ages.
He picked up the bill and made his way across to the counter, only just avo
iding a collision with the overexcited boy.
He handed over his card to the waiter. “Is Jonathan himself working here in the kitchen tonight?”
The waiter chuckled. “No, he’s at home with his family tonight.” He handed back Jerome’s card. “Happy Christmas, sir.”
“Yes, Merry Christmas to you too.”
Jerome stood by the door waiting for Holly. He couldn’t believe she was taking so long. Was she ill, he wondered? Had she perhaps fainted? When a middle-aged woman walked towards the ladies’ toilets, he called out.
“Excuse me, but I think my girlfriend might be feeling ill in there. Could you check for me?”
“Of course,” she said.
But she returned almost straightaway. “There’s no one in there at all. The doors to all the stalls are open, so…” She held out her hands in an ‘I’ve no idea where she is’ gesture.
“Maybe she’s gone outside for some air,” Jerome said.
He stepped outside. There was no sign of her along the riverbank and he realised she’d already gone home.
She’d acted nervously around him from when he arrived, and no wonder really, given he’d had no opportunity to properly answer her email. It would have cost her a lot to send it, and for him to say nothing more than he’d received it must have been hard for her.
He’d changed his mind about proposing to her when the noise level had ratcheted up. Instead of the cosy, romantic dinner he’d pictured in his mind, it would have been like proposing in the middle of a busy high street.
Now, he wished he had proposed, because if he’d done so, she’d have realised he still loved her regardless of her confession.
He smiled to himself. He mightn’t have had time to check the links she’d sent, but he thought he had a good handle on what she wanted from what she’d written in her email.
If she wanted domestic discipline, they might as well start tonight.
He headed back to his car, sent Holly a text, and began the drive to her flat.
5
Spanking Dreams Come True
Holly flung herself onto the sofa. What an awful night it had been. And now she had to get through Christmas dinner at her parents’ place tomorrow. How was she going to explain Jerome’s absence to her family?
Her phone beeped. She dug it out from her cluttered handbag.
Not impressed with your disappearing act, Holly. Lucky for me you sent me that email. I know exactly how to deal with this behaviour now. On my way. Jx
Holly’s mouth went dry and her insides fluttered in both dread and delight. Was he really going to spank her? And if so, did she really want it? What was it Erika had said? That a real spanking was very different from what you imagined it to be?
It wouldn’t take Jerome long to drive to her flat. The traffic hadn’t been all that busy when she drove home; the Christmas Eve crowd was still partying. Holly switched the Christmas tree lights on and lit a couple of candles on the mantelpiece to create a more romantic mood. Then she sat on the sofa and waited, anticipating Jerome’s arrival and the spanking she was going to receive.
At last, the intercom buzzed and she heard his voice. “It’s me.”
She unlocked the front door. “Come on up.”
She waited by the door of her flat, so many emotions running through her. She felt both eager and nervous, both silly and sexy at the thought of being put over his knee.
Holly heard Jerome’s footsteps on the stairs and opened her door. She flushed and looked away as he smiled down at her. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have run away like that.”
“We’ll talk about it,” he said, “but first, this needs to go in the fridge.” He flourished a bottle of champagne.
Holly took it from him while he pulled off his coat and placed it on the hat stand by her door. “I’d initially planned to order champagne in the restaurant,” he said. “But given we were both driving, and Jonathan’s wasn’t quite the cosy romantic setting I’d expected, I decided against it. So, we can have it later, when I’ve dealt with tonight’s events.”
He settled down on the sofa, patted the seat beside him. “Sit down, Holly. We need to talk.”
His voice was calm, controlled. Holly’s heart thumped as she shut the fridge door and made her way across the room to join him.
Jerome slipped his arm around Holly’s shoulders, huddled her close to him. “First of all, I want to apologise that I didn’t properly acknowledge your email other than to say I’d received it. As I said, there were a lot of connectivity problems in Bulgaria, and when I finally received it yesterday at the airport, I only had a couple of seconds to respond before Boriana whisked us all back out to the bus. I thought the most important thing for you to know was that I was coming back a day late. But I should have made time to add that what you told me made no difference to my feelings for you. And that I am more than willing to try to meet your needs in that way.”
Holly swallowed. “Thank you.”
“I appreciate that you were honest with me and I realise it must have been hard for you to tell me,” he said. “What prompted you to tell me, in the end?”
“Finding out that you were going to propose to me tonight,” she said. “I could kid myself that I didn’t need to tell you while we were dating, but getting engaged, planning to get married – it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us to have kept it secret.”
“How did you know I was going to propose tonight?”
She told him about spotting him coming out of the jeweller’s, about checking the box in his pocket.
“You mean you’ve already seen the ring?” he asked. He looked disappointed.
“No. I didn’t open it. I wasn’t even sure that it definitely was a ring – not until you’d told me about the booking for Jonathan’s. Then I was sure,” she said.
“So tonight, at the restaurant, were you waiting for a proposal? Is that why you left? When it didn’t happen?”
“No, honestly it was more that I thought you were going to dump me. You changed your mind about picking me up on the way to Jonathan’s; you’d said nothing about my email. I really thought you didn’t want me anymore, but didn’t want to cancel the booking.”
He hugged her closer. “I do regret not saying something to you about the email. But what might have been a better way for you to approach it?”
Holly gave a half-rueful chuckle. “Say something like ‘Is everything okay between us after what I said in my email?’” she suggested.
“Yes. That would have clarified the situation straightaway and anyone overhearing wouldn’t have had a clue what we were talking about,” Jerome responded. “So, another time if you’re unsure about what I’m thinking, what’s the best thing to do?”
“Just ask.”
“Yes. Not,” his voice took on a sterner tone, “leave me high and dry in a restaurant, asking strangers to check that you haven’t fainted in the bathroom!”
Holly couldn’t help laughing. “Is that what you did?”
“Of course! You said that’s where you were going, so I believed you. And you deserve punishment for that.”
Holly’s insides froze and she fiddled with the hem of her dress.
Jerome patted his knee. “Present yourself over my lap for punishment.”
“I…” Now that it was happening, Holly was flooded with a range of conflicting emotions. The idea of bending over Jerome’s lap and having him spank her suddenly felt ridiculous. And yet the thought excited her too, it felt like all her nerve endings were tingling.
When she hesitated he said gently, “This is what you want, isn’t it? Domestic discipline? To be accountable?”
Her throat was swollen with emotion, but she managed to get out, “Yes.”
Jerome shifted in his seat, took her firmly around the waist and guided her over his lap. Holly stilled as he lifted up her dress, exposing her skimpy black knickers and stockings. “In future,” he told her, “when I tell you to present yourself across my lap, I ex
pect you to do so straightaway. I’ll let you off tonight because it’s your first time, but if it happens again you’ll be spanked first for disobeying my instruction, and then separately for whatever misbehaviour has led to the spanking. Is that clear?”
Again, the words seemed to clog in her throat.
A sharp slap on the bare flesh of her right buttock made her jump.
“Is that clear?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said hoarsely. “It’s clear.”
“Good.”
His hand came down swiftly on her left buttock, and she wriggled at the pain that shot through her. Jerome trapped her waist with his left hand to hold her in place while he continued spanking. Holly gasped as he alternated swats on her right and left cheeks, occasionally breaking the pattern to deliver a stinging slap right across her bottom. As the sting in her backside built up and the smacks became harder, Holly emitted a loud, continuous moan, and realised how right Erika had been – real spankings hurt! It wasn’t like reading about one and fantasising till your clit throbbed, not at all!
“Stop,” she begged, “please stop.”
Jerome slapped her smartly on her tender right cheek. “Have you learned your lesson? Because, I warn you – if I ever have to punish you for walking out on me instead of communicating properly with me again, it won’t be my hand smacking your backside. It’ll be something much harder, like a paddle.”
At the threat, Holly felt liquid trickle out of her vagina. As Jerome shifted his position, she realised he was turned on too; his hard cock pushed into her side.
“Have you learned your lesson?” he repeated.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said. He delivered three more hard smacks right across her backside before gently tracing his finger over her burning flesh. Holly lay where she was, enjoying his tender caressing of her scalded bottom. When he’d finished running his hand over her cheeks he lifted her off his lap and carried her into the bedroom. As they passed the mirror, she caught sight of her bottom, crimson from his handprints, and thought she’d never felt so sexy and desirable.
