Married to the Sheriff

by Kira Barcelo

  In any event, it wasn’t something she needed to get all worked up about now. Mike was busy at work, and Deputy Wheeler probably wouldn’t be getting to it right away.

  There was always the chance, too, just the teeniest, little chance that the deputy would keep it to himself.

  Very teensy, little chance.

  Debbie put it out of her mind. She turned her attention to fixing a delicious dinner that would be ready and on the table by the time Mike came home.

  Less than an hour later, she had put the stew meat, vegetables, broth and seasonings in the pot on a low simmer on the stove and was straightening up the living room. Through the window she spied the sheriff patrol car pulling up in the driveway right behind the Bel Air. Out stepped Mike.

  Mechanically, she consulted the clock in the kitchen. Had he come home for a late lunch? Not likely. As usual, news in Lighthouse Cove traveled at the speed of lightning. She smoothed out her apron, combed her hair with her fingers, and went to meet him at the door with a demure smile.

  * * * * *

  Mike was about to reach for the doorknob with his right hand, and in his other hand held a brown paper bag down at his side. The door opened before he could touch it.

  “Well, hi, good-looking! What a pleasant surprise. Home for lunch?”

  He arched an eyebrow at his wife, who stood there looking more delectable than a woman should look in an apron and a casual pair of form-fitting black pants, the kind that outlined her soft curves. He was caught by surprise himself, but by an onslaught of adrenaline and his body reacting to her sultry voice and demeanor.

  Lunchtime sex? Not a bad proposition. Though he had another matter to tend to, and that by all rights had to come first.

  “Lunch? Well, haven’t had any yet…” He stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. “…And I don’t think I’ll have a chance to now, either.”

  “Oh. Poor baby. What if I was to whip up something real quick?” Debbie spoke somewhat breathlessly. Low. That was her sexy voice, the one she usually reserved for the bedroom. “Unless you’d rather…do something besides eat.”

  She let her hand dip down to the front of his pants, simultaneously giving his mouth a teasing kiss. A you’re-a-man-I’m-a-woman-let’s-do-something-about-it kiss.

  That was when the thought struck him: She knows. Debbie knew precisely what he was doing there. Resolutely, he squared his broad shoulders.

  “Actually, I’m here to talk to you about your little mishap this afternoon,” he said, meeting her gaze steadily. “Deputy Wheeler says you ran that stop sign. Almost got into an accident, too.”

  He could see her shoulders sagging slightly, as if realizing he was onto her. Why did women feel they had to do that? Use those admittedly powerful feminine wiles on a man? All the more reason for him to remain stern, outwardly, if nothing else.

  “I suppose he also told you it wasn’t the first time I’ve done that?” Debbie assumed out loud.

  “Hmmm. He did not.” Wryly, he grinned at her widening eyes. “But thank you for offering that little tidbit of information.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Then I guess he also told you he let me off with a warning?”

  “That, he did say. And he’s a lot more easygoing than I’m going to be.”

  Mike studied her expression. Why couldn’t he have been there for a bit of lunchtime fun? He had never thought about it before. Most of the time, he assumed she was busy or out visiting with her friends, and he had his work. That had that had stroked him moments before made him consider dropping by on his lunch hour in the future. But as to that day itself, why did she have to go and run that stupid stop sign? He saw her falter.

  “What do you mean? I get a warning from you, too,” she said. “Remember our rule? First, warning; second, warming.”

  “Yeah, well. Running a stop sign because you don’t agree it’s necessary where it’s been placed, that’s breaking a rule, too. A serious rule. Now I’m going to break our rule.” Mike pointed at the kitchen. “Now, march.”

  Dropping her arms at her sides, she obeyed and walked ahead of him, yet she voiced her displeasure with the situation.

  “This isn’t fair, you know. I should be warned first.”

  “You should be warned that the traffic laws apply to you, too, Debbie? That you’re not exempt from following them as my wife?” he questioned her. He was more disappointed than angry. “You should know better, Deborah Marie. And it’s not fair if you’re injured or you hurt someone else because you refuse to obey the laws like some rebellious teenager.”

  Once in the kitchen, she turned and pouted at him. Most days, he could count on his sheriff’s expression—the look he used on the public or even his deputies, when he wanted to convey that he wasn’t backing down on something. Seeing her with that little pout, after her initial sexy little invitation to him, make him want to chuckle.

  “Wouldn’t you have more time to spank me later?” she asked. “Like after dinner?”

  “I could. But it’s been slow at work today. I figured I’d come home on my lunch hour, give you this spanking, and go right back to work. That gives you the whole afternoon to think about what you’ve done.”

  He pulled a chair out from under the table, trying not to notice those big, brown eyes staring plaintively back at him. Nervously, she rubbed her hand on her pants leg.

  “Does it change anything if I promise to never do it again?” She was trying to wheedle her way out of trouble.

  “Does it change anything? Sure. It means you’ll be safe. That you’ll be a careful and lawful driver when I’m not with you. Or when you have our baby with you, someday when we have our child. But right now, you’re still getting put over my knee and you’re still getting a sound spanking, young lady.”

  She moaned when he opened the paper bag. Out of it he brought a brand-new, large hairbrush. I had a handle for him to grip, and that flat back was wide enough for paddling her ample backside.

  “What if something comes up somewhere in town while you’re here?” Debbie posed the question. “Like—like another robbery or—or—”

  “I don’t anticipate that happening. But if it does, my deputies will handle it.”

  Gently, he guided her over his knees, positioning her rear end high enough over his lap so that he could control where the hairbrush fell. He noticed how well she allowed him to guide her, how she had balked at first about it being unfair but now had resigned herself. She was learning, slowly but surely, how to be a submissive wife. Then, without further delay, he proceeded as he’d done in the past to bare her bottom, this time tucking his fingers into the elastic waistband of her pants and peeling them midway down her thighs. In doing so, because the pants weren’t loose, her panties came right down along with them.

  Black panties. Sexy black panties, with ruffles along the top. With her reclining on her belly, he couldn’t see the little satin bows on the sides in the front, but he recognized that pair so he knew they were there. The fabric was sheer, see-through, giving him a peek at her skin under those undies. If his memory served him well, he recalled the grandma-style panties Debbie had told him she’d worn before meeting him, and how right before they were married, she had gone out and bought new panties and bras. Things she knew would catch his eye, now that a man would be seeing her without her clothes on.

  Those panties had him catching his breath and giving his head a shake. It was almost a shame to have to spank her, when what he wanted was to pleasure her as her husband. But, reluctantly, he got right back to the business of administering discipline to his naughty wife.

  Better to do a warm-up first, he decided, setting the hairbrush down on the table. He glanced at the kitchen clock, which told him that a few minutes of his lunch hour had already passed. If he kept admiring the view, he’d be showing up back at the office a few minutes before five.

  Maybe the lady had a point; maybe he would have done better to spank her after dinner that evening. But he was th
ere now, and it would do her well to think about the severity of what she’d done, and the lesson would definitely go further on a sore behind. He began spanking her with his hand, hard, a big pink print coloring his wife’s shapely globes. The resounding smacks made her pretty cheeks jiggle, which only made him even more aroused.

  “Just out of curiosity,” he began, “are there any other signs or lights in town that don’t meet with your approval, Mrs. Brandt?”

  “Ohhhh—n-no, sir. And I won’t—ouch!—skip that one again, either.”

  Eh, don’t even bother with the clock, he told himself.

  This was more important right now, making sure Debbie learned her lesson. For that reason, he slowed down his pace, spanking her slowly, deliberately, letting each spank sink in before bringing his hand down again.

  “I wish—owwwww!—that you had come home for—ohhh!—for another reason, though,” she was saying. “And not to have lunch. Owwwwww!”

  Mike stopped temporarily, his hand poised high in the air. He looked down at her with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

  “Oh? Is that so?”

  “Yes. I get a little lonely when you’re not here, Mike.” She looked at him over her shoulder, which he always found adorable while he was heating up her bottom. “Kind of wish you’d surprise me sometimes. Would be kind of fun if I had a caveman on my hands sometimes at lunchtime.”

  “Hmmm.” He mulled over those words and went on, undeterred.

  Debbie had been a virgin when they took their vows. A thirty-seven-year-old woman who had never been with a man before, sexually. That first night she’d been shy; he’d been gentle, knowing he was her first. After the initial, awkward first few minutes, she had relaxed and enjoyed herself with him. Curious. Eager to please and to receive pleasure.

  Over the course of those first few weeks, she was the most fun, most exciting lover he had ever known.

  Spanking. It’s time to spank right now, not time for sex, he reminded himself.

  With the warm-up out of the way, and her bottom already glowing and warm to the touch, he took hold of the hairbrush’s handle.

  That first whack! must have made her see stars, because she bucked and yelped. After a good half dozen more, she reached back her arm to protect her backside. He stopped just in time.

  “Now, Debbie, what did I tell you about that, baby?”

  “S-sorry. It’s hard not to.” She brought her arm back down. She seriously began to buck and wriggle as the hairbrush lit a fire in her butt. “Ohhh, boy, that brush hurts! It hurts like crazy, more than the ruler did!”

  “I’m sure it does. So tell me, young lady. You going to think about what happened today?”

  “Yes, yeeeeeees, I’ll think about it! Ohhhh!”

  “Good. You going to obey those stop signs from now on? Am I going to hear my deputies say they had to pull you over again?”

  “Yes! I mean, no! Owww, owww, owww!” She was kicking her legs so hard that he had to toss one of his legs over them both before he went on, the back of the hairbrush blistering her sit spot.

  “Good.” He stopped and drew a deep breath. “Tell me the truth. You only said that about you wanting me to come home sometimes to have a little fun with you…because you were in trouble, right? Because you were trying to get out of getting spanked?”

  “Right. Oh—no!” Debbie tossed a glance back at him, her face almost as rosy as her behind. “I meant that. I do miss you, Mike. I miss loving you. You loving me.”

  He sat for a moment. Suddenly, he was the one taking a deep breath.

  Slowly, he set down the brush. After another moment, he gave her bottom a soothing rub.

  “Okay, I guess that’s enough,” he muttered.

  “That’s…that’s enough?” She repeated in disbelief.

  “Yeah. I’m sure that makes you happy.”

  “Well, um…you’re in a hurry. Maybe you should spank me again tonight after dinner. When you have more time.”

  He heard her sniffle. “Do I need to spank you again?”

  “I don’t know. That’s if you think I need any more spanking. I…I shouldn’t have run that stop sign. It was a silly thing to do. And careless. And I should obey the laws. Even the ones that seem silly.”

  Mike chuckled. He knew he’d just let down his guard, but that remark had struck him as both funny and cute. He righted her onto her feet, smiling when he saw that she was laughing, too.

  “I miss you during the day, too, baby,” he admitted. “I miss loving you. And you loving me.”

  She was pulling her panties and pants back up, immediately rubbing her spanked bottom and giving him a sweet but mischievous grin. Mike stood there, clearing his throat. He towered over her, shaking his head and smiling.

  “That’s a first, I guess,” she said. “Spanking me on your lunch hour.”

  “Yep. Probably not going to be the last time, either.”

  Then, before she could protest, he bent over, grabbed hold of her waist, lifted her off her feet and hoisted her over his shoulder. Debbie shrieked in surprise, then gave a happy laugh.

  “Now, Sheriff! What are you doing?” she asked.

  “What am I doing? I’m going to make sure the best wife in the world has a caveman on her hands—and the heck with getting back to work on time!” Mike said, and carried his sexy and gorgeous wife straight upstairs to their bedroom.

  THE END

  Kira Barcelo

  I'm Kira Barcelo, author of spanking romance stories, which are fun, sexy, lighthearted & touching. Most of my books are sweet, some have just the right amount of heat, and I love writing about strong heroes and mischievous heroines.

  Visit her blog here:

  http://kirabarcelo.blogspot.com

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  Kira Barcelo

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