by Paige Tyler
Daphne gave her friend a smile. “I don’t have to think about it. I’d love to do it.”
Laughing, Claire threw her arms around Daphne and gave her a hug. “This is going to be so much fun.”
She and Claire spent the next hour going over some ideas for decorating the gallery before they decided they were both in need of a caffeine fix and walked down the street to Starbucks. While they drank their nonfat lattes at one of the outdoor tables, Claire told her about some of the local artists whose work she was already interested in showing.
As they walked back to where Daphne had parked the car a little while later, Claire suddenly grabbed her arm and jerked her into the souvenir shop they were walking past. Her brow furrowing, Daphne watched in puzzlement as the other girl peeked out at the street from behind a rack of T-shirts.
“What’s wrong?” Daphne asked, looking around the blonde to see outside.
Claire didn’t answer right away. Instead, she continued to look out the store window. When she finally did turn to her, Daphne was stunned at how pale the other girl was. She reached out to put a comforting hand on her friend’s arm.
“Claire, what is it?”
The blonde shook her head. “N-nothing,” she stammered. “I thought I saw...” She shook her head again. “It was nothing.”
Daphne frowned. It didn’t seem like nothing to her. “Claire, you’re trembling. Tell me what’s wrong.”
But Claire only shook her head again. “It’s nothing, really,” she insisted, then gave Daphne what she probably thought was a bright smile. “We should be getting home.”
Before Daphne could press her friend for more, Claire was out the door and heading for the car. At a seriously fast walk and looking around as if she expected someone to jump out from the shadows at any moment. Her brow furrowing again, Daphne hurried after her. What had made the other woman get so freaked out?
She tried to ask Claire about it again on the ride home, but once again, her friend insisted it was nothing. Daphne didn’t buy it. If that were true, then Claire wouldn’t have ducked into that souvenir shop like she had. And she certainly wouldn’t be looking over her shoulder every couple of minutes as they drove home to see if they were being followed.
Abruptly, Daphne reminded herself about the promise she had made not to snoop into Claire’s personal life any more. But this was different. She wasn’t being a nosy busybody. She was being a concerned friend.
When they got home, Claire invited her over to look at some sample colors she’d been considering for the gallery, but once they were seated in the living room, it was clear the other girl couldn’t concentrate.
“Claire, it might help if you talked about it,” Daphne suggested softly.
The other woman shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered. “John would be so upset with me if I did.”
Daphne frowned. “Claire, are things alright between you and John? He’s not...abusing you, is he?”
The blonde gave Daphne a stunned look. “No, of course not. He would never do anything like that. He’s amazing. Without him, I don’t think I could be dealing with this.”
“Dealing with what, Claire?” Daphne asked. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Claire said nothing, but Daphne could tell the other woman was considering her words. After a long moment, she finally spoke. “Daphne, I haven’t been honest with you. About anything. Our last name isn’t Anderson. It’s Fredericks. And John and I aren’t from the Midwest, at least not originally. We’re from Miami.”
Daphne’s pulse skipped a beat. So, she had been right. “I don’t understand. Why would you lie about those things?”
Claire wiped a tear from her cheek. “Because John and I are on the run from some really bad people.”
Right again. Though Daphne was full to bursting with questions, she waited patiently for her friend to continue.
“John and I worked at a realty company in Miami. He was in sales and I was in the financial department,” Claire explained after a moment. “One day, I started noticing some discrepancies in the books. The amounts the company was reporting for their homes sales were completely wrong. They were over inflated, by hundreds of thousands of dollars in some cases. I couldn’t understand what was happening until I dug a little deeper. Then I found out that most of the homes were being sold to shell companies that didn’t even really exist. When I dug even deeper, I found out that those companies were fronts for a drug cartel based out of Miami. They were using our property sales to launder their drug money.”
So, she was half right. “Go on,” Daphne prompted gently.
“John and I immediately went to the police with the information. We assumed the cops would bring in the DEA or the FBI, or someone else Federal to talk to us, but they never did. Instead, we talked only to the head of a drug task-force named Martin Thompson. He told us it would be safer if he acted as the go-between with the Feds. John and I were so eager for someone to help us that we didn’t even think to question him. We just gave him everything we had on the Meradino family. Thompson told us that the cops planned a big raid to take the whole family down at once and suggested it would be best if we were out of town on that day. That should have tipped us off that Thompson was dirty, but we just went along with it.”
Daphne got a sinking feeling in her stomach at the mention of Thompson being a dirty cop, but she said nothing.
Getting to her feet, Claire walked across the room to stand by the fireplace. “We told him that we’d go out on our boat for the day. It was something we did regularly, so we figured no one would suspect anything.”
Claire wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself. “There was a bomb on the boat. We wouldn’t even have found it if John hadn’t been looking in one of the storage compartments for something. We barely had enough time to jump overboard before the boat exploded.”
Daphne suddenly found it hard to breathe. Oh, God. Here, she’d thought John and Claire had faked their own deaths to run from the police when they were nothing more than an innocent couple who had almost gotten murdered because they had gone to the cops.
“And you know what the worst thing is? Besides almost being blown up and having to go on the run, I mean,” Claire said bitterly. “It turned out that Detective Thompson was in league with the drug cartel and was setting up the whole time.”
Daphne’s mouth went dry at that. “Are you sure?”
Claire let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I’m sure. When John and I finally got back to shore, Thompson was holding a press conference saying we had been the ones laundering money through the realty company and that we had been killed when our boat exploded while we were trying to flee from the authorities.”
“Oh God,” Daphne whispered. What had she done?
“That’s why I was so upset in town today,” Claire added. “I was afraid that I had seen Thompson. Obviously, I hadn’t. But I’m so scared all the time that I think I see him coming around every corner and hiding in every shadow.”
Daphne chewed on her lower lip. “But what if you really did see him? Maybe you and John should talk to Zak. If it was this Detective Thompson you saw, then you could be in danger.”
Claire shook her head. “John would never want to tell Zak. And if I even mention to John that I thought I saw Thompson, then he’ll want us to leave and go somewhere else and I don’t want to move again.” Walking back over to the couch, she sat down beside Daphne. “Not when I’ve found such a great friend here.”
That only made Daphne feel even worse about what she had done. She wondered how great a friend Claire would think she was if the other girl knew about the snooping she’d done or the phone call to Thompson.
“Please promise you won’t say anything to Zak about this,” Claire begged. “I’m sure I didn’t see Thompson, so there’s no need to create a stir over nothing.”
The only reason that Daphne was even considering agreeing with Claire was because she knew Thompson wou
ld never be able to find them. Especially not from the phone call Daphne had made. Even so, Zak really should know about the whole thing just in case Thompson had somehow tracked them down. But at the pleading expression on the other girl’s face, Daphne found herself nodding her head.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But if you get even the slightest hint that Thompson might have found you two, then you have to let me tell Zak.”
Claire nodded. “I will. I promise.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh gosh, it’s almost five already. I’d better start dinner.”
Daphne sighed. “Me, too. Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone until John comes home?”
Her friend smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
Daphne left, but only after making Claire promise to call if the other girl needed anything. Once back in her own house, however, Daphne couldn’t stop chiding herself for what she had done. Calling Detective Thompson had to be one of the most stupid things ever. If Thompson had figured out what was really going on and come after John and Claire, it would be all her fault.
But luckily Daphne had been smart enough not to say anything to make Thompson suspicious. Now, she just had to make sure Zak never found out, either. She couldn’t imagine what would make him more upset. The fact that she’d taken her snooping to a whole new level, or that their new neighbors were on the run from both the mob and the cops, and that she’d known about it the whole time. The spanking he’d give her would make every other one she’d gotten seem like lovepats in comparison. And in this case, Daphne would have to admit that she would deserve it. On some level, she almost wished Zak would find out. While discipline spankings certainly weren’t as much fun as erotic spankings, they definitely helped to make her feel better about the things she had done.
Still preoccupied with her thoughts, Daphne was more quiet than usual that night at dinner. Zak must have sensed it because he asked if something was wrong as they cleared the table. But she just shook her head and told him that she was simply tired from her busy day.
As they watched television later, Daphne tried to focus on the program, but she couldn’t stop thinking about everything Claire had told her. It was scary to think how close she had come to telling Thompson about John and Claire when she’d spoken to the man on the phone the other day. Daphne tried to convince herself there had been no harm done, that Thompson hadn’t learned anything at all from her, but she was having a hard time letting go of the guilt she felt. What she had done had been beyond nosy. Her desire to dig into John and Claire’s past could have gotten them killed.
“Ready to go to bed?”
Daphne looked at her husband in surprise, startled to realize it was already that late. Giving him a nod, she uncurled herself from the couch while he turned off the television, but instead of heading for the stairs, she turned to face him.
“Do you think you could give me a spanking before we go to bed?” she asked softly.
His mouth quirked. “A spanking, huh?”
He thought she meant a good-girl spanking, Daphne realized. She chewed on her lower lip and stared down at the carpeted floor. “No. I mean a discipline spanking.
She had asked her husband to give her spankings before, of course, but this was the first time she had asked for a discipline spanking. She couldn’t believe how embarrassing it was.
When Zak didn’t say anything, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her and wondered if she should repeat the request.
“Did you do something bad?” her husband asked quietly.
Mutely, she nodded.
“And does it have something to do with snooping on our new neighbors again?”
Again, she nodded.
She heard him sigh, but when he spoke, he didn’t sound angry. Just disappointed. “I thought it might. So, what did you do this time?”
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “It’s probably best if I don’t tell you. I made a promise to Claire that I wouldn’t. But it was bad and I really need to be spanked for it. For my own good.”
Zak was silent and Daphne looked up at him from beneath her lashes to find him regarding her thoughtfully.
“I can only imagine that what you’ve done must have been really bad if you’re asking for a spanking. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what you did?”
Keeping her gaze on the floor, she shook her head.
“So, if you won’t tell me what you’ve done, how am I supposed to know what to spank you with or even how long to spank you?” Zak asked.
She gave him a sheepish look. “Maybe I can just let you know when I’ve had enough?”
He frowned at her. “Somehow, I don’t think that will have the desired effect. But I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll let you pick the implement, but I’ll decide how long I get to use it.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a very good deal, but she had asked for this spanking, so she decided Zak probably should have most of the say regarding it. Besides, since she was picking the implement, she could at least control that aspect of it.
“Now, go upstairs and pick something out, then go stand in the corner,” he told her. “I’ll be up in a little while.”
Daphne almost groaned at the mention of having to stand in the corner again, but she supposed it kind of went hand in hand with discipline spankings. Hoping that Zak didn’t make her wait too long, she turned and headed for the stairs.
Once in the bedroom, she passed by the dresser and the hairbrush sitting there and instead went around to her side of the bed to the “toy” drawer. Pulling it open, she studied its contents for several moments. Her gaze went to the paddle-ball paddle first. While it would be guaranteed to set her ass on fire, she just couldn’t bring herself to pick it up. The same went for the big wooden sorority-style paddle they had. While fun for good-girl spankings, she couldn’t take very many smacks with it and she certainly didn’t want to get a discipline spanking with it. That left the leather paddle and the leather strap. Though the paddle was definitely one of the most enjoyable implements they had, she really had a special affinity for the wide leather strap. The strap created a sensation completely different from all their other toys. Yes, it stung, but not in an oh-my-God-my-butt-is-on-fire kind of way. It was more of a slow building fire that satisfied her to her very core. And the best part about the strap was that it would give her that pleasant ache that she would remember for several days afterward. And that was what she wanted. To remind herself that she really had to stop being so nosy.
Satisfied with her selection, Daphne took the strap out of the drawer, walked over to the straight-backed chair and set it down on the seat. Remembering she was supposed to stand in the corner, she started to do so, but then stopped. Should she take off her shorts and tank top? Zak hadn’t told her to, but since he had instructed her to take them off the other times he’d had her stand in the corner, she decided to remove them.
Naked except for her bra and panties, Daphne walked across the room and stood with her nose in the corner.
She couldn’t have been standing there for more than ten minutes before Zak came into the room. Resisting the urge to look at him, she stayed in position while he walked over to the straight-backed chair. Even though she had asked for this spanking, she couldn’t help but be a little nervous and she waited anxiously for him to call her over.
“Come here, Daphne,” he finally said.
Turning, she slowly walked across the room to stand before him. Zak hadn’t taken a seat, but was standing beside the chair, the leather strap in his hand.
“I’m disappointed that you went back on your promise and snooped on the neighbors again, you know that, don’t you?” At her nod, he continued. “But I’m also proud of you for admitting that you did it.”
Daphne blinked up at him. “You are?”
He gently caressed her cheek with his free hand. “Yes, I am. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you a good, hard spanking all the same.”
She swallowed hard. “I know and I deserve it.
”
Gently lifting her chin, Zak lowered his head to kiss her tenderly on the mouth. “Push down your panties, then bend over the back of the chair and put your hands on the seat.”
Daphne didn’t even hesitate, but did as her husband had instructed, slowly pushing her panties down to mid-thigh before bending over the back of the chair to put her hands on the seat. The chair back was a little bit taller than waist-high and she was forced to go up on tiptoe, which, she realized much to her chagrin, put her bare bottom at the perfect angle for a strapping.
“Are you ready, Daphne?” Zak asked softly.
Telling herself that she deserved whatever spanking she got, Daphne nodded her head and waited for Zak to begin.
However, even though she was ready for it, the first thwack made her gasp as the folded piece of leather kissed her right cheek. Ouch! Maybe the strap didn’t sting as much as the paddle-ball paddle did, but she had forgotten just how much it could burn, especially without the benefit of a warm-up. But before she could even take a breath, the strap connected with her bottom again, this time on her other cheek.
“Owwwww!” she yelped.
Zak stopped. “Do you want to pick a different implement?”
Daphne was surprised by the offer. She didn’t even have to think about it, though. She shook her head. “No. I want you to use this one.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
Placing his hand on her back, he began to strap first one cheek, then the other. One of the things that made the strap feel so different was how the supple length could reach so much of her bottom all at one time. She felt each smack all the way from one side of her ass cheeks to the other. She tried to bite her lip to keep from crying out, but Zak soon had her squealing and dancing around on her toes as he covered every part of her upturned bottom.
