A Country Music Christmas

by Maggie Carpenter

  As she bent them over she became aware of the lewd exposure. Her faced burned hot with embarrassment, but he was suddenly swatting her bottom.

  "OW, OW, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

  "You're gonna learn, sugar," he declared, pausing for a moment. "I warned you more than once, but I reckon testin' is in your nature."

  "I'm sorry. I'll behave, I will."

  "Your pussy sure is wet," he remarked pushing his finger into her seam. "Man, you are soaked."

  Summer was overwhelmed. His finger was twirling around her clit in a torturous tease, her backside was stinging, and her sex was yearning for his cock. It was so much more than she'd ever expected, but she loved being lost in the tantalizing torment and she never wanted it to end.

  "Lower your legs, and next time I tell you to stop you'd best do it. Clear?"

  "Yes, Sir," she whimpered. "Very clear. Crystal clear."

  Her legs sank back into the soft fur and she was about to touch herself again when she realized he hadn't yet asked her to. She waited, determined not to do anything without a specific instruction.

  "Put your hands behind your head and keep them there. You're gonna feel somethin' land on your skin and it's gonna burn, but only for a second or two."

  "Yes, Sir," she replied, locking her fingers together behind her head. "Sir?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm a bit scared."

  "Good, that means your adrenalin's pumpin'. You ready?"

  "Eek, yes, I'm ready."

  "Eek? Did you just say eek?"

  "Uh-huh."

  He stifled a chuckle. Summer was a kick but he needed to concentrate. Taking a breath, focusing back on his task, he picked up one of the tall glass candles. Holding it above her body he carefully let a dollop of wax fall on her stomach. She yelped, but as the wax cooled and solidified she let out a soft moan.

  "Again?"

  "I'm not sure," she panted. "Ooh, it's kind of amazing."

  "Is that a yes?"

  "Uh-huh."

  He dribbled more below each of her breasts. She gasped, but a moment later she mewled, and he could feel her surrendering to the pain/pleasure seesaw.

  "More?"

  "Yes, Sir, please, yes, Sir."

  "A trail this time, then you'll put your fingers back into your pussy. Are you ready?"

  "A trail? Ooh, yes, Sir."

  Spilling the wax he carried it between her breasts and down to her belly button, and though she was panting he spotted her thighs tense and release as the wax congealed. Placing the candle back on the coffee table, he moved back to her and touched between her legs.

  "Damn, girl, you're drenched. Put your fingers on your pussy and tell me another bedtime story."

  "I'm naked," she murmured as her hand moved against her sex, "but you're dressed in a dark suit and white tie. You're sitting behind a desk and I'm bent over it."

  "I'm likin' this story," he growled. Quickly removing his robe he straddled her body, then staring down at her luscious breasts he took hold of his rampant cock. "Keep goin'."

  "You're working, but every so often you reach between my legs and play with me and pinch my ass, then say things like, no, not wet enough yet—ooh, Sir, I'm so hot."

  "When you're ready you can come. Say thank you, and thank you again after your orgasm."

  "Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir."

  "Keep talkin'. You're over my desk and I'm seasonin' your pussy with my fingers. Then what?"

  "I hear you stand up, you're behind me, telling me to shuffle towards you and arch my back."

  "Mmm, I'm takin' over this story," he said huskily. "I start slappin' your lovely backside, checkin' your wetness every few smacks…"

  "Ooh, yes, Sir, ooh, I'm so close."

  "I unzip my fly and pull out my cock."

  "I'm almost there."

  "And grabbin' your hips I thrust inside you…"

  "I'm coming!"

  Watching her puckered nipples and the deep orgasmic blush cross her chest, he spewed his essence across her breasts. It was a strong, satisfying climax, but she was still in the throes of her orgasm, and listening to her ongoing short sharp cries he quickly dropped to her side and sent his lips against her ear.

  "Keep it goin', sugar, that's my girl, keep it goin'."

  Letting out a wail she pushed herself into more, and turning his head to gaze down the length of her body he saw her thighs urgently pressing together. Images of her legs tied wide apart danced in his head, and moments later, with a long, heavy, whimpered thank you, Sir, she fell limp.

  Kissing her softly he told her not to move, then rising to his feet he pulled on his robe and walked briskly to the powder room. He needed to fetch a damp towel to clean her up, then he'd have the pleasure of peeling off the wax. Normally he wouldn't introduce candle play until he'd been seeing someone for a while, but his instinct had told him she'd love it. He'd been right. Summer Brown was a passionate submissive, bright and challenging, and she had heart. The only question mark was her ambition. Would it get in the way?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Liam had languidly peeled the wax from Summer's body, they had shared a shower, then returned to the kitchen to clear up the mess from their dinner. It was after they had just finished the dishes when Liam crossed his arms, tilted his head, and stared at her as if trying to make a decision.

  "What?" she asked, walking over to him and gazing into his sexy milk-chocolate eyes.

  "I'm just thinkin'."

  "That's obvious. Thinking about what?"

  "Takin' you down and showin' you the studio."

  "Seriously? Well you have to now," she said vehemently. "You can't drop a bombshell like that and not do it."

  In the three months she'd worked for Liam Taylor she'd never been through the locked door at the end of the hall. The recording studio had been strictly off-limits.

  "Yeah, I guess maybe you're right about that. You wanna head on down?"

  "Oh, my gosh," she squealed. "Now? You're going to take me down there now?"

  "I guess it's as good a time as any. You ever been in a recordin' studio?"

  "Only in my dreams," she replied sheepishly. "I guess that's kind of embarrassing for a girl who claims to be a singer."

  "You'd be surprised how many talented people are doin' the club scene in Nashville and have never been in a studio. It's more common than you think."

  "Thanks for saying that."

  "It's true. David McDaniel had never been in one 'til I found him."

  "Really?"

  "Really. You've gotta promise not to touch anythin'."

  "You don't have to worry about that. I'd be afraid to."

  Taking her hand he led her from the kitchen and down the hall, and as he unlocked the door her heart began to pump. Taking a breath she tried to contain her excitement. She was going into a studio! Liam Taylor's studio! The door was open, and with a theatrical wave of his arm he gestured for her to enter ahead of him. As she descended the thickly carpeted stairs the room came into view and she sucked in the air.

  "Wow. This is amazing," she muttered, her eyes wide as a rush of energy pulsed through her body.

  Her voice had been almost breathless, and watching her Liam could see the elation in her eyes. Had he made a mistake? Her barely controlled exhilaration was more than he'd expected. He'd made the decision to show it to her for a number of reasons and he prayed she wasn't getting the wrong idea.

  "I'm glad you like it," he said casually, not sure what else there was to say. "Let's go into the control booth. I'll show you the equipment."

  As she walked in the large glass booth and stared into the studio where the singers sang and the musicians played, her vision flashed through her head. If it wasn't this studio she'd seen it was one just like it, but she also felt a wave of fear. Professionals recorded in this place, and the thought of walking into such a room and stepping up to the microphone…could she measure up?

  "Summer?"

  "Who's been here?" she managed. "I mean
, have you done much recording here for actual CD's?"

  "Absolutely. I didn't spend a fortune on it just for fun, but I haven't been here very long so I've only done one album here. I'd like to make it the place where I record an artist's first gallop in the saddle. It's a relaxed environment. They can stay in the house and come down in the middle of the night if inspiration hits them. Summer? Are you okay?"

  "Yes, fine."

  She'd lied. Summer was far from okay. Her head was swimming. Was she as good as she believed? She was a small-town girl like thousands of other small-town girls who thought they could sing. But she'd had the vision! It had been real! Why was she suddenly so full of self-doubt?

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, yes, it's just a lot to take in. What's it like?"

  "Recording?"

  "Uh-huh. I mean, what's typical?"

  "Nothing's typical. Sometimes we lay down a track and we have to do all kinds of crap to make it sound how we want it to. Other times it's a breeze. One of my singers, and I won't tell you who it is, but she has trouble singing parts separately."

  "What does that mean?"

  "She can sing the whole song and sound great, but if we need to fix certain phrases she has a tough time."

  "Oh. I see."

  Liam was studying her. He hadn't brought her into his studio just so she could see it. He wanted to gauge her reaction, and it was obvious she was more intimidated than excited. The reality of performing in a professional setting was hitting her, and it was daunting.

  "Would you like to go into the room?"

  "Um, okay."

  "You don't have to. I just thought you'd like to."

  "I do, though I'm a bit confused."

  "Confused? Why?"

  "Because you made such a point of saying that I couldn't even think about singing for you, that being with you had to stay strictly personal and I wasn't to get any ideas, and yet you brought me here."

  "Would you have preferred not to see it?"

  "No, no, I'm excited to see it."

  "This wasn't meant as a big tease. I'm sorry, maybe it was a mistake."

  "NO, please don't say that. I'm really grateful, more than you know, but being here, it's kind of like a wake-up call. I've had all these fantasies about becoming a star, but—it's weird—now I don't know if I'm good enough. Is that why you did this? Is that why you brought me down here? So I'd get that? It is, isn't it?"

  "That's part of it," he said gently, putting his arms around her. "Singin' for your supper isn't just openin' your mouth and carryin' a tune. It takes a whole lotta work, and a voice that just comes out and is perfect every time, that's rare."

  "I feel all weird."

  "I didn't mean to upset you," he said, wrapping her up and hugging her tightly, "but there's another reason I wanted you to see this place. This is my life. I spend hours upon hours down here, and when I'm workin' with an artist I'm consumed."

  "But you should be, you would have to be," she said, pulling back, a frown crossing her brow as she stared up at him. "How can you make something perfect if you aren't obsessed by it? The only way to make something great is to live it, breathe it, have it rolling around in your head every waking second. Of course you're consumed."

  Her solemn, profound response startled him. She'd sounded older than her years, and wiser than the sexy, bubbly Summer with whom he'd spent the day.

  "I'm not wrong," she added, misunderstanding his silence. "You may think I—"

  "No, you're not! I'm just surprised that you get it. I mean, you really get it."

  "It's how I am when…"

  "When?"

  "You don't want to know," she murmured, turning away and gazing through the glass at the empty room.

  "Of course I want to know, tell me."

  "It's how I am when I'm writing my songs. The words, the melody, they're in my head and I can't think about anything else until it's finished. It drives my mother batty sometimes."

  Liam's heart skipped. She had that smoky speaking voice which told him she could probably sing, but was she more than just another pretty girl who had a modicum of talent and big dreams that would never see the light of day? Even as the questions floated through his head, he was suspecting Summer might very well have more to offer than he'd assumed.

  "Will you bring me down here again?" she asked, turning back to look at him.

  "Sure."

  "Maybe I won't feel so strange next time."

  "I can help with that right now."

  Placing his hands on either side of her face he slowly brushed her lips with his mouth. His kiss was warm and loving, and as Summer felt her body melt, she raised her arms around his neck and fervently kissed him back.

  "Will you hold me all night?" she breathed as she broke away. "I need you to."

  "Try and stop me."

  "I'm glad you brought me down here. Thank you."

  "You are?"

  "Yeah, I am. Truly."

  He kissed her again, his hands slid down her back and cupped her slightly tender cheeks, and as she pressed her pelvis against him she felt his stiffening member.

  "Will you make love to me?" she murmured. "Will you make love to me right here, right now? Please say yes."

  Her urgent plea whistled through his brain. He'd never had sex in the studio and yet it felt right, surprisingly right, but he had no condoms. His mind flashed to the powder room just up the stairs and down the hall. He kept a supply there for visiting musicians more than for himself.

  "Strip off and lay on the floor. I wanna walk in and see you waitin' for me naked just like before."

  "Not the couch over there?" she asked, pointing to a long leather chesterfield against the wall.

  "Nope, the floor. Lay on your clothes."

  Kissing her again, lingering his lips and knowing he was making her knees weak, he hurried out the door, and as he trotted up the stairs he had only one thought; finding a condom and finding it fast. Entering the small bathroom he retrieved the baggie at the back of the cabinet and picked out two in case one broke, then decided to grab the box of tissues as he raced out the door. When he returned he found her sprawled out totally naked just as he'd instructed, and he hurriedly pulled off his clothes and stretched out next to her.

  "What took you so long?"

  "You complainin?"

  "No, no, I'm just glad you're here."

  Suddenly her hands were all over him, and he gripped her wrists, pinning her arms above her head with one hand, then dropped his mouth to devour her neck. Her amorous attack had filled him with a fervent need to ravage her, and traveling his lips to her breasts, he sank the fingers of his free hand into her pussy.

  "Fuck, you're wet," he growled, lustily fingering her. "Damn, girl, you're makin' me crazy."

  "I want you," she panted, "I want you, I want you right now."

  Releasing her wrists he rolled on top of her, and rising up he sheathed his member, held himself at her entrance and plunged home. Her warm, wet pussy welcomed him, and her moans of gratitude echoed through the small chamber. His lips crushed hers, then journeyed to the hollow in her neck, and as he felt her legs close around his back and her pelvis lift to meet him, he let out a low growl and began thrusting with gusto.

  "Damn, girl, I wanna fuck you into next week."

  "Yes, do it," she panted. "Please do it."

  Rising to his knees he carefully withdrew, then flipping her over he clutched her hips and pulled them into his pelvis.

  "You wanna be fucked hard? You sure?"

  "Yes, I do, yes."

  He pushed inside her, but he didn't immediately begin thrusting. Staying buried he began landing his hot palm in a steady rhythm of solid slaps. She gasped and moaned and wriggled against him, then aching with need she looked over her shoulder and stared at him with wide eyes.

  "Liam, ravage me, please!"

  Wordlessly he brought his spanking hand back to clutch her hip, slowly withdrew his cock, then plunged it back in. She threw back her
head, and as he repeated the slow powerful strokes she arched her back in grateful acceptance. He was in control, his cock was consuming her, and then he started to accelerate.

  Gazing down at her pink backside, and listening to her moans and sharp gasps, as he quickened his pace he was all too aware he'd be hard-pressed to back off. His climax was already looming, and deciding not to fight it he continued pummeling her pussy with gusto.

  "I'm so close," she wailed, "I need to come."

  Was she asking his permission? He hadn't dictated that she needed to, though it was certainly in his playbook, but if that's what she wanted he was happy to oblige.

  "Ask nice," he growled, landing a quick slap.

  "Please, Sir, please may I come?"

  "On the count of three, and not a second sooner."

  "Ooh, yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

  "One—two—three. Come now! Right now!"

  Her howl bounced off the walls, and as she bucked back against him he exploded with a series of loud groans. It had been a glorious, spontaneous, sparkling ride, and when the last shudder subsided he fell beside her, put an arm around her and pulled her against his chest.

  "That was amazing," she panted, "absolutely amazing. Liam, your heart, it's pounding so hard."

  "Sure feels like it," he replied, trying to catch his breath. "You're gonna wear me out. Three times in one day? Damn, girl."

  "Two-and-a-half to be accurate."

  "Yeah, I guess so, and I guess this studio is christened now."

  "Really? Wow again. I feel honored."

  "You should. I'm real protective about this place. I can't believe you talked me into it."

  Lifting herself up on an elbow she stared down at him.

  "I did not talk to you into it!"

  "You sure made it hard to say no."

  She replied with a wicked grin, then fell back into his arms. She'd just had sex, incredible sex, amazing sex, with Liam Taylor in his recording studio.

  "I think I can die a happy woman now."

  "Is that right?" he chuckled. "Glad to hear it, but you've had enough brushes with death for one day," he declared as he reached for a tissue and pulled off the condom. "Man, I'm beat."

  "Me too. I feel totally tanked."

  "Let's head on up to bed."