Her Hero

by Jane Henry

  “You can tease me back,” he said, still grasping her wrist. “But don’t poke me.”

  She couldn’t help herself. “Oh yeah?” she teased. “And what’ll happen if I do?”

  He sobered even further, pushed himself up, and before she knew what was happening, he was on top of her, straddling her, both of her wrists pinned helplessly as she squirmed beneath him. His mouth came to her ear. “Do you need a reminder, Gracie? Of what happens to you if you don’t do what you’re told?”

  Did she? She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or serious, and she wasn’t sure where the line was, how far she could tease and what would get her for real tossed over his knee. “I… um… am not sure,” she said.

  He laughed out loud but didn’t release her wrists.

  “Then allow me to clarify,” he said. “You want to disobey me, give it a go, angel, and you’ll find yourself over my lap. Talk back to me, and I’ll spank you.” He sobered and fixed her with a stern look. “You put yourself in danger, and I’ll take my belt to your ass. Got it?”

  Her panties dampened, and her stomach clenched. She swallowed, and nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I understand.”

  Bending down so that his breath tickled her cheek, his knees pressed up against her, her whole body shivered in anticipation. His mouth came to her ear and he whispered, “You sure, Grace? You sure you can handle this? Because this is who I am. Doms protect and doms like control. I’ll be gentle with you, but I need to know you’re in this because you want to be, not because you don’t want to let me down.”

  He was holding himself back, this much she knew. He hadn’t held back the night before, and she’d loved it. She wanted to be owned by him, used by him. There was more to all of this than he’d let on. Yes, he’d spanked her, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he decided she needed another spanking, he wouldn’t hesitate to take his hand to her ass. And though the thought of being punished was a tad bit scary, she had always known Donnie was a guy who needed to be in control. Even though she couldn’t understand it herself, the thought of being spanked or punished by him—hell, especially being punished—gave her a thrill of excitement. She didn’t get all of it yet, but she knew she liked what he gave her. She knew she trusted him with her life.

  “Donnie,” she whispered back. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is, but if you mean am I okay with you being a dom? Then, honey, the answer is, yeah. You’ve been a dom since you were like fifteen.”

  He chuckled, his mouth coming to her ear. She gasped as he pulled the lobe into his mouth and gently nipped. “I’ll show you what ‘this’ is,” he said. “Slowly. I’ll be gentle.”

  She moaned. “I hope not too gentle.”

  His tongue flicked out and tasted where he’d nipped. Her wrists still held in his strong grasp, helpless beneath him, she pushed back but he held tight. She wriggled, wanting him to touch her, needing his hand between her legs. She groaned. “Oh, God,” she said.

  “I don’t know what you can handle yet, Grace,” he said.

  “I don’t know either,” she said honestly. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers with a possessive heat she felt straight to her pussy. His mouth came to hers and she sighed into his kiss. God, he tasted so good. The barest flick of his tongue against hers had her squirming, the firm feel of his erection pressed up against her belly fueling her own desire. She made him hard, and she fucking loved that she did.

  Buzzz.

  Donnie froze, and Grace followed suit. What was that noise?

  Buzzz.

  His phone.

  “Just ignore it,” she begged.

  “Can’t,” he said with a sigh, releasing her, as he grabbed the phone and glanced at the screen. “Fuck.”

  She sat up, ignoring the lump in her throat, trying hard to be a big girl but wanting no more than to spend the entire morning in bliss. How much longer could their time together last?

  He nabbed the phone, climbing out of bed as he answered it.

  “Yeah?”

  As he walked out of the room, she pushed out of bed and stomped out of his bedroom to grab a towel to take a shower. If he was going to just leave her like that, fine, she’d just do her own thing. But as she rounded the corner, nearing where he was talking on the phone, she felt her t-shirt snagged from behind. She whirled. Donnie towered over her, his eyes dark and sober. He released her t-shirt, and pointed one finger to the loveseat.

  Sit, he mouthed.

  Folding her arms across her chest, she stared at him, not quite willing to just do what he said, but not quite bold enough to defy him. His brows rose, and he spoke into his phone. “Slay, give me a sec.” He took the phone from his ear, hit what she could only assume was the “mute” button, placing his phone on the arm of the loveseat. Uh oh.

  Donnie grabbed her upper arm, spun her around, and delivered one sharp, pointed swat.

  “Sit,” he ordered, pointing again.

  This time, she obeyed, no longer feeling quite as petulant, and more than a little subdued.

  No fair.

  But as she sat on the couch, she raked her eyes over him. He stood in nothing but his boxers, quite the sight to behold. The muscles on his arms bunched as he lifted one arm and ran his fingers through his long, sandy hair. “Got it,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll look into it. Thanks, man. Yeah, see you tonight.”

  He hit a button on his phone, placed it down, and gave Grace one long, stern stare. She shrank into the loveseat.

  “Important call?” she said sheepishly, with what she hoped was her most innocent expression.

  He stalked to her, the tips of his lips quirking up as he drew closer and she attempted to squish further back on the couch.

  She slowly got to her feet, sidestepping him, and covering her ass with the towel she’d managed to grab. “I’m just going to, um, make my way to the shower, and then I’ll—ahhhhhhhh!”

  She screamed as he pounced, lifting her straight up in the air, sitting down on the couch, and pulling her on his lap so that she straddled him.

  “Not yet you’re not,” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “Alrighty then.”

  “I had to take that call. Even though we've had a… leisurely morning here, I can't slack off of my duties.” His look was sober now, stern even, and the mere look made a zing of arousal shoot straight through her. She squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, as she felt his hardness beneath her. He reached his hand to the back of her neck, entwined his fingers in her hair, and pulled, the sensation sharp but erotic, little tingles of pain and pleasure making her shiver. His mouth came to her ear as he pulled her toward him. “As much as I want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name or what day it is, it’ll have to wait. But I promise the wait will be worth your while.” She stopped breathing entirely as his free hand slowly grazed the front of her t-shirt, the pad of his thumb gliding over her taut nipple. “So you have two choices,” he continued to whisper in her ear. “Either you’ll go take your shower now and I’ll take you to get some breakfast, or you give me lip and I’ll whip your ass.”

  God!

  “What’ll it be, angel?”

  She hesitated a moment too long. He released her hair, and his palm cracked down on her backside, reminding her that as hot as getting her ass whipped sounded, being on the receiving end of a spanking from Donnie was still very painful. She nearly leapt off his lap and ran to the bathroom, calling over her shoulder. “Option A, and I need coffee!”

  As the stream of water hit her back seconds later, she could still hear him chuckling.

  “Oh, Donnie. Oh, it’s beautiful,” Grace breathed, as she took off the full face helmet he’d made her wear. She hadn’t wanted to wear it, but at the twitching muscle in his jaw, she’d slammed it on her head, muttering the whole time.

  They parked the bike, and walked together to get some breakfast sandwiches and coffee, before he took her to a secluded picnic area
by the beach. It was still chilly on the beach in early May with the Boston heat still several months out. She shivered as he handed her the steaming styrofoam mug, and she sat on the picnic bench. He shrugged out of his coat and placed the heavy, warm leather jacket over her shoulders.

  “I’m fine, Donnie,” she said, not wanting him to be without his own jacket, but he merely lifted a brow. She quieted, and focused on unwrapping her sandwich.

  She was learning.

  “Yeah, I like it here,” he said. “Not a lot of people come here on weekdays.” He liked quiet and solitude, she was beginning to realize, gravitating to where it was quiet, and he could be left alone. “You like your sandwich?”

  Nodding appreciatively, she took another bite of the sausage-egg wrap. It was perfectly seasoned, with creamy cheese and flecks of peppers, reminding her of her mama’s huevo el plato, a savory egg dish she’d grown up with.

  “Love it,” she said, taking a sip of coffee. “Hey, what was up with Slay earlier this morning?”

  Donnie shrugged, taking a sip from his own cup. He’d already eaten half his sandwich in two bites, and was now looking out at the ocean as waves gently glided to shore, foamy white flecks dancing like sprinkles atop an ice cream cone. “Looks like everything’s going ahead with Chalo’s release later today. This time tomorrow, he’ll be a free man. But don’t worry, Grace, we still have things we’re working on.”

  Grace nodded thoughtfully. What would happen when the men who’d planned on using her found that she was missing? Would Donnie and his friends be able to find out what they needed to in time? She hated the unknown, worrying about her mama, and even Pedro. He was such an asshole and she might never forgive him, but he was her brother and she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't looked out for him. Where would she be this time next week? Really, how long could she be tucked away in Donnie’s place, before someone would find her?

  And when they did… what then?

  Her sandwich fell to her lap as she gazed out at the ocean, remembering how much simpler things were when she was younger. Her biggest fear back then was whether or not she’d finish her sand castle before the tide came in and swept it all away. How much longer would she be held in limbo? Was her whole life to be lived like this, everything she cared for built on the edge of the seashore, destined to be swept away when the time came in?

  Her eyes went to Donnie. He’d finished his sandwich and was balling up the white paper wrapper, tighter and harder than was necessary. He whipped it toward a garbage barrel a few feet away. It ricocheted off the rim and fell in.

  “Score,” she said softly, taking another sip of coffee to help swallow the rising lump in her throat.

  “Eat your sandwich, angel,” Donnie said with a nod, his voice both gentle and stern. She took a small obedient bite, but her appetite had fled.

  “I’m full,” she said. “I don’t want anymore.”

  He frowned disapprovingly, his lips turning down as his eyes zoned in on the half-eaten sandwich. “You haven’t eaten enough,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re full. You need more than that.”

  “You can’t tell me to eat,” she retorted, suddenly irritated with his high handedness, her fears setting her on edge, causing her to snap. “Is this what you’re like with all your girls? You make them all eat?” Her hands shook, as she placed the sandwich in her lap and met his eyes.

  His eyes narrowed on hers. “All my girls?” he said, with a humorless laugh. “I only have one girl, and fuck yeah, I’m like this. I’ll tell her when she needs to eat, and when she needs to get her ass in bed, and make sure she doesn’t do dumbass shit that could get her hurt in any way.” He paused a beat. “Yeah, Gracie. This is what I’m like. Now eat your goddamned sandwich.”

  Though her heart stuttered, and, in her mind, she knew she was acting like a spoiled brat, she couldn’t seem to help it. She hated feeling out of control, both afraid she’d never get back what was precious to her and never keep hold of what she’d wanted her whole life. It was all too fleeting and uncertain. She balled up her sandwich and lifted her hand, prepared to whip it across the table and onto the sandy beach in front of them, like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum.

  But as her hand raised, Donnie merely leveled a narrow-eyed gaze on her. “Do it,” he growled. “Go ahead, babe. You want to sit on a sore ass on the back of my bike, you throw that.”

  The choice was an easy one as she met his gaze. Sitting on the back of his bike already hurt her ass, and the thought of being draped over his knee in broad daylight in public was enough to make her re-think her actions. The sandwich dropped to her lap as his eyes remained fixed on hers.

  “Eat it, Grace,” he said, his voice deeper and commanding as he stood. “Two more bites, angel.”

  Two more bites. She hadn’t been cajoled into eating anything since she was in kindergarten. Her eyes fixed on his, she peeled back the crinkly paper, lifted the sandwich to her lips, and took a large bite. She chewed, then swallowed, intentionally licking her lips as he watched. His Adam’s apple bobbed, but his brow remained furrowed, until she took not two, but several deliberate bites, polishing off the remains of her sandwich as he watched every chew and swallow.

  Slowly, his narrowed eyes softened, and his lips turned up. “Good girl,” he said softly, walking over to her. “That’s my girl.”

  Warmth spread across her chest and between her thighs at the praise. God, she loved his voice. Loved it. Some women would fantasize about being kissed, or felt up, or fucked, and yes, she loved all of that, but she found herself fantasizing about surprisingly different things.

  “What’s on your mind, Gracie?” he asked, taking her wrapper from her hand and whipping it toward the barrel. Again, a score.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said. It was embarrassing, and she didn’t want to tell him.

  “Grace,” he warned, a brow raising as he crossed his arms.

  “Well,” she said, not wanting him to grow stern again. “I just… well, do you remember how you used to read to me?”

  His eyes warmed, his lips tipped up, and the white of his teeth flashed against tanned skin as he smiled at her.

  “Forgot all about that,” he said. “What was it? Shakespeare or some shit, right?”

  “Chaucer,” she laughed. “I had to read it for English, and didn’t want to, and my mama said I couldn’t go to the dance unless I read it. Remember?”

  She remembered…

  Grace sat, scowling, on her balcony, gazing out as the sun settled behind the row of two and three-story houses, so little space between them in the inner city, that once the sun dropped, the light would be gone quickly, so she always stopped and watched it right before it vanished. The familiar growl of a motorcycle captured her attention, though, as Donnie pulled his bike to the parking space on the other side of the fence.

  “Hey, Grace,” he called up, lifting a hand in greeting as he swung himself off and hit the kickstand with his boot.

  “Hey, Donnie,” she said, her heartbeat accelerating as she saw him make sure the coast was clear before he hopped the fence. Was he coming up to their apartment? It was risky, knowing her father could come home early, but it was a risk Donnie occasionally took. To make things safer, she’d go to him instead. She jumped to her feet, trotting down several flights of stairs so quickly, she nearly slammed into him on the landing.

  “Whoa, honey,” he said, smiling at her. “Going somewhere?”

  “Just needed to get some fresh air,” she said. “You?”

  His brows drew together and he frowned as he took her gently by the elbow and led her out the back door to the paved back yard, where she sat on a flimsy plastic chair. He followed suit. He shrugged. “Gotta talk to Pedro about some shit,” he said, lifting a chin to her book. “What are you reading?” he asked.

  She sighed. “Chaucer, for English,” she said, “and it’s as boring as all hell.”

  He reached for it and took the book. “Now, Grace, you’re a smart girl,�
�� he said. “Real smart. You might not like it, but you’ve got to use those brains God gave you. Not everyone has brains like yours, honey. Or talent.”

  His praise made her suddenly feel shy. She merely looked down at her hands.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Will this reading go quicker if I read it to you?”

  Her heart soared as she nodded eagerly. “Oh my God, yes, for sure,” she said. “Please?”

  Nodding, he opened the book up where the folded-down page lay, and he smiled. “All right, I might mess up a few words,” he said.

  She just shook her head. She didn’t care, only wanting to hear his voice. She dreamed about his voice, the deep, husky sound of it calming and reassuring. And then he began. She never did hear much that night, as all she could do was listen to the deep timbre of his voice, and feel the way just the sound did strange but pleasant things to her body. God, she could listen to him read forever. After a while, he paused.

  He flipped through the pages. “How much do you have to read?”

  She sighed. “Twenty pages by the time mama gets home, or I can’t go to the dance tomorrow night.”

  His eyes lifted from the book and met hers, teasing yet somehow probing. “So if I take this book, and hide it, and you don’t get your homework done, I get to keep you away from all the other boys?”

  Her throat constricted and she looked away, not knowing how to respond. She laughed haltingly.

  “Hey, Grace, I’m just teasing,” he said. “I’m way too old for you anyway.”

  Her nose stung, and her eyes burned with unshed tears, but he was looking through the book and didn’t notice. Was it her imagination, or did he look a little… sad?

  “You’re not too old for me,” she protested, not knowing what else to say.

  He only smiled sadly, picked up the book, and kept reading.

  “God, I remember,” he said. “That was some truly awful shit.”

  She laughed out loud. “You thought so? Then why did you read it to me?”

  He smiled back. “Because I was trying to help you.”