Logan's Contract (Along Came Jones Book 4)

by Megan McCoy

  She looked down to find a drink in her hand. Had she poured herself a glass? She must have, and maybe she should pour one for Logan, too. Maybe getting him sloshed would put him in a better mood. Sure couldn’t hurt to try. She’d never seen him drink anything but the occasional beer though. What kind of girlfriend didn’t have her guy’s favorite drink in the house?

  How long was he going to walk? Did he really think she’d be standing in the corner when he got back? Of course he did. She’d changed into this totally comfy nightgown because he’d told her to, didn’t she? Why did she just do what he told her to? Because she rather liked to, she realized.

  Doing as she was told made her feel safe and cared for. Why was that? Was that strange? No one had ever really told her what to do before Logan. Her father didn’t really care; her nannies and grandma spoiled her. Then Logan swooped in and just took over her entire life.

  The door opened and she looked up from her drink. What did he have in his hand? A stick? “Is there really a contract?”

  He stared at her and said, “You signed it, remember?”

  Good, steam wasn’t coming out of his ears anymore. The walk must have done him some good.

  “Is there really one that says you can take over my life and take me over your knee?” She sat at the kitchen counter and gave him her most firm stare. Not that it did any good.

  “If you wanted to know, you should have read it. You’ve had months to read it,” he said and walked over to where she sat. “I thought I told you to be in the corner, contemplating your transgressions, not sitting here having a drink.”

  “I have no idea what transgressions you are talking about,” she protested as he took her drink from her and grabbed her arm.

  “That’s why you were supposed to be in the corner. To think. There are no distractions in the corner.” He led her over there and pointed to a spot with his finger. “Nose there.”

  Sighing heavily, she did as she was told. Wasn’t she thinking just a few minutes ago how his bossy ways made her feel safe? Now she just felt stupid, especially when he said, “Lift the skirt. I want to see that butt.”

  “Logan,” she started then jumped as his hand came down hard on her butt. “Ow!”

  “You are going to be saying a lot more than ‘ow’ in a few minutes,” he said. “Better enjoy your corner time before you start your bawling time.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” she said, not certain if she meant lifting her gown or bawling. She absolutely didn’t want to do either, but knew beyond a doubt she’d be doing both.

  “Tough,” he said, and she wondered what happened to her good-humored guy, the one who she usually amused, or seemed to, even when she was over his knee. There was nothing funny about that position or her begging, but it seemed to put him in a really good mood. Maybe she should just go along with him, and then maybe he would tell her what was going on?

  Reluctantly, she raised the back of her nightgown, to show off her matching pink panties. As expected, she heard, “Might as well drop them to the floor, you won’t be needing them the rest of the night.”

  Dang it. That did not bode well. For the first time tonight, she felt a shiver of nerves in her belly. “I don’t know what I did,” she said through a suddenly dry mouth. “Ouch!” Dang him and his unexpected smacks. She hated those.

  “You stay right in that corner,” he said. “And you know exactly what you did, and what you chose not to tell me about.”

  The class again? “I was going to finish the class tomorrow,” she started. “Ouch! Damn it, Logan!”

  “Watch your mouth, unless you want it filled with soap.” He smacked her again.

  Soap? Now what?

  “The class is over. You failed. I know how much you love to dance,” he said and her brain spun again. Over? Failed? Dancing? Soap? What was wrong with him tonight? “So I decided to teach you the switch dance. Tie your nightgown up around your waist.”

  She didn’t even know what those words meant, so stared at the corner for a second, which apparently was a second too long. After another stinging smack on her bottom, he had her nightgown wrapped up around her waist and somehow fastened it there with a knot. Oh. She didn’t like this at all. At least showing him her bare bottom meant her front was covered.

  “Logan?”

  He didn’t answer, but grabbed her arm and marched her into the middle of the room. She saw that stick he brought in, switch? Suddenly she knew what he was going to do, and then felt molten ice on her upper thigh and screeched.

  “Spankings don’t seem to get your attention,” he said and she could barely hear the rest through some loud noise she realized was her own yelling. “So let’s see if the switch can get through to your hard head.”

  “Logan! Stop! No! Red! Raspberry!” She tried to think of something, anything that might make him stop, and pranced around at the end of his arm trying to pull away, get away. Apparently she had no safe word, and he planned to switch her until she died. Or was horrifically scarred. “Please, okay! It hurts! No more! Agh!” Yanking as hard as she could, she couldn’t pull her arm from his grip and she couldn’t get her thighs and butt away from his switch. “Please, please! I can’t!” Yanking and pulling, twisting and prancing seemed to not matter to him a bit. “Logan, no more! No more!! Argh!” That switch seemed a million miles long and fell so fast she couldn’t tell the difference in the times that he pulled his hand back and let another one fly.

  He threw the switch down and marched her to the corner. She just wanted held, not to stand in the corner again. Leaning her head against the wall, she frantically rubbed her welted bottom and sobbed, feeling alone and miserable. He always held her after a spanking. She hated the switch dance. Hated. Why was she in the corner again?

  “Tell me when you can talk,” he said, in that tone she hated as much as the corner. Why wasn’t he holding her? Hadn’t she been punished enough?

  “I’m sorry I didn’t finish the class,” she finally managed to sob out between shuddering breaths. “I will finish it tomorrow.”

  “The class is over and even if it wasn’t, you are packing and moving tomorrow,” he said. “You won’t have time. And I’m sick of hearing about the class; this isn’t about the class.”

  Wasn’t that why she had movers, and him and Lucas, to move her? Surely he didn’t expect her to carry boxes? Wisely, she thought, she managed a “Yes, sir,” and hoped that meant he still wanted her to move in.

  Did she want that though? The only thing she wanted right now was to be held. Sobbing brokenly, she thought about sitting on the floor, but no, sitting would not be good, so she tried to snuggle into the hard sharp corner and take comfort from its support.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally managed and then shrieked as what felt like the wooden spoon came down on her welted thighs.

  “No,” he said. “Try again.”

  “Now!” She rose on her toes and rubbed her bottom desperately. “I’ll do it now!”

  “I am not talking about the class!” He smacked her bottom with every word and she danced wanting nothing more than to be in his arms.

  “Please no more!” This was nothing like being over his knees, which was some kind of comfort at least. There he’d taken control. He stopped her from moving, he controlled her. She didn’t know what he wanted from her. She couldn’t handle this.

  “Court,” he said, then took her arm again, to turn her to face him. She wanted nothing more than to be back in the corner. She didn’t want to be half naked in front of him, knowing he knew about court. How had he found out? “Look at me,” he demanded.

  She couldn’t. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed and then the Logan she knew and loved finally emerged from the ogre who’d switched her. Picking her up, he sank down on the floor with her, holding and cuddling her. She sobbed into his arms in humiliation and pain. She did not want him to know. This was horrible; she had never been so embarrassed in her life. He knew. She’d really wanted to just get past it and
have him never know. Ever.

  “Your little butt is tougher than you are letting on,” he teased in the tone she did love. “You’ll survive.”

  Ronnie shook her head wildly. If the earth didn’t swallow her up, well, she’d simply die of mortification.

  “No,” she sobbed into his arms and held him as tight as she could, wishing she could let go and undo her nightgown so she was covered.

  “Yes,” he said. “But you need to start talking and start now, or we will do that again.” He tipped her chin up with his finger. “And you don’t want that, do you, little girl?”

  “No, Sir,” she said, shaking her head away from his finger to bury it in his shoulder again. He stood up with her in his arms and she marveled at his strength. “You were mean to me,” she whispered.

  “You deserved it,” he said, settling them both in her overstuffed rocking chair. She winced as her sore bottom and thighs moved against his pants. The softness of her flannel gown would be lovely right now, but she didn’t want to move to shake it down. “You lied to me. Next time I find out you’ve lied to me we are going to wear out three or four switches, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She shuddered. That she didn't want and couldn’t imagine. Luckily, if there was anything lucky, breaking the switch over her butt seemed to have put him in a better mood. “I do understand, and I’m sorry, but…”

  He put his finger over her mouth. “No buts. I don’t want any excuses, just a factual telling of what happened.”

  The one thing she never ever wanted to do, tell him, but now she had a bigger thing she never ever wanted to do and that was the switch dance again. She’d had to look so ridiculous dancing in her hot pink socks and tied up nightie and squalling. She would never recover from the mortification and all she wanted was that drink she’d poured earlier. Not enough to leave his arms, but as soon as she did, that’s where she was heading. Straight for that drink and then, naturally, the mirror to see the damage. Then another drink to try and drown the memory of the dreaded switch dance routine.

  Factual telling. “It was the day we met,” she started and he pushed off with his foot like he was a grandpa rocking his baby, and she didn’t mind that a bit. It was easier when she didn’t have to look at him. “I was a little upset, as you know, there were a whole bunch of people who’d quit that day and I was there at the store all by myself and you can just imagine how that went over. So I made up a story about a gas leak, and locked up early. Well, I thought I locked up early, but apparently forgot to, because managing a store is not my job.” She was leaving out a few details, she knew, but heck, she didn’t want to be here all night! She wanted this over with.

  “Go on,” he said and kissed the top of her head.

  “I got a call later on that night that the store had been broken into and could I come down. I don’t know why they called me. It really wasn’t my responsibility,” she said self-righteously. “So by the time I get showered and get down there, the policeman was in a really pissed-off mood. He told me my ID was out of date.” Her hand flew to her mouth. Had she gotten that renewed yet? She didn’t think so. It had been months! “Anyway, we got into an argument, and honestly, Logan, it wasn’t my fault. I was trying to be reasonable.” His shoulders shook in what felt suspiciously like laughter, but she magnanimously decided to ignore it. “But he got all mad for no reason and arrested me! Don’t worry, I wasn’t strip-searched or anything, they just took me to the jail and gave me a warrant thingy to show up in court.”

  Stopping for breath, her mind raced, trying to figure out what to say next since he didn’t seem inclined to say anything at all. “I thought I’d get a fine and they would scold me and tell me to behave, and really, Logan, really truly, I was going to be very good and just take it, no matter how unwarranted it would have been. But that judge, she didn’t care who I was or what I did or anything and gave me,” her voice dropped to a low whisper again, and she hid in his shirt, “community service like I was a common criminal or something. I even told her who you were and she didn’t seem to care!”

  “Who I am?”

  She nodded. “So I’ve been doing community service and I was too embarrassed to tell you, I’m so sorry. Don’t spank me anymore, please?”

  He rocked them and said, slowly, “No, I’m going to have to spank you for lying by omission. It’s in the contract, and really, we can’t have even unspoken lies between us in our marriage, can we?”

  Ronnie started crying again. She couldn’t take another spanking. Her bottom and thighs hurt so much now. He held her and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me? The real reason.”

  “The real reason is because I thought you wouldn’t find out.” She should get major points for honesty there.

  “Why didn’t you want me to know?”

  Why was he continuing to ask her stupid questions? “Well, who do you know who’s had to do community service? The last thing I wanted was people to know about it!”

  “I’m not people,” he said. “I’m the one who is going to be with you forever.”

  “See!” she said, feeling triumphant. “Exactly!”

  “Honey, that makes no sense at all.”

  What did he expect from someone who just learned how to switch dance? Sense? That wasn’t really bright of him, now was it? Wisely, Ronnie chose not to say that out loud, but did say, “I didn't want you to think badly of me.” There. That was good.

  “It wouldn’t have been as bad coming from you than me finding out on my own,” he said.

  She was not going to ask how he found out. She was going to change the subject and hopefully get out of a second spanking she knew she couldn’t take. “I’ve been working in a thrift store, and, Logan, I’ve been offered a promotion!”

  She heard him bite back a snort. “A promotion for a community service job?”

  “I’m really just volunteering and they are very glad to have my help! And yes, I had this woman come in… oh, you talked to Thomas. That’s how you found out.”

  He nodded and she said in a rush, “That’s not fair, to spank me for doing a good deed! I helped her get that job. She’s a single mom and her deadbeat husband moved out on her and she only had mom clothes to wear and I dressed her and gave Thomas a call because he was doing a hiring fair for my stores and, Logan! I did a good thing! And you spanked me for it!” She sat up, making a face as the welts on her butt shifted on his lap, and ran her fingers through her green streaked hair. How dare he! She looked at him righteously and folded her arms and wished her butt didn’t feel like there were a million bees stinging it and then putting hot bee mud – honey? – on it. She hated switches. When would it go away? She whimpered and leaned against him again.

  “I didn’t switch you for doing a good deed. I’m actually very proud of you for that.”

  Ronnie smiled and relaxed a little. He should be proud. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her room at the shop and her big plans.

  “I switched you for keeping things from me by omission. That is not going to be acceptable in our marriage. Ever.”

  “Okay,” she said, not certain what she should say. What would make him not be upset with her and listen to her exciting news?

  “In a few minutes, I’m going to spank you for not telling me, and for lying to me about more tests from your doctor when that apparently didn’t happen,” he said, stroking her hair. “I have to make this point to you.”

  She shook her head violently and started crying again. “I can’t, please don’t, please.”

  “I said I was going to, and I won’t lie to you, any more than I want you lying to me,” he said.

  “Postpone?” she begged. She’d been so happy just an hour ago. Who knew leaving the restaurant would lead to all this? “I want to talk to you.”

  “Oh, now you want to talk,” he said, but started rocking her again. “Don’t you wish you would have talked when all this started?”

  She ignored that. It wasn’t worth answering. She hadn’
t. There was nothing to be done about it now. It was over. She hadn’t told him, he’d punished her for it, now to move on. “I found what I want to do,” she said. “I want to dress people. Logan, I’m good at it. I can help people dress for jobs, help them feel confident and pretty and on a budget.”

  “What do you know about a budget,” he asked but continued to rock and stroke her hair.

  “I’m learning!” she insisted and squirmed, her bottom throbbing horribly. When would it stop hurting?

  “Not from your class,” he said.

  Ronnie opened her mouth, and then shut it. Nope. Don’t smart off to the guy who could spank you at any moment.

  “How many more hours do you have?” he asked.

  “Around thirty-ish, I think,” she said. Actually, she’d lost track. Allie would know though.

  “This weekend, you are moving out of here and in with me,” he started, but stopped as she started sobbing again. He had put off this move long enough. It was happening and he wasn’t taking ‘busy’ or ‘not yet’ or ‘can’t’ for an answer any longer.

  “Do you still want me to?” She clung to his neck and tried not to wipe her nose on his shirt, but what else could she do?

  “Yes.”

  That settled that, didn’t it? Oh, he was still talking. “Then next week, I want all the hours knocked out. I realize you’ve never worked thirty hours in a week, but I want it done. Do you understand me?”