Love in the Rockies

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Love in the Rockies Page 32

by Thianna D


  “Oh definitely! I just worry that you would prefer a more obedient, old-fashioned partner sometimes. One who keeps house and waits by the door to ask you how your day went.”

  “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I loved seeing you in that sexy get-up this evening. And having you cook me a dinner and make me dinner and do the housework, that was super hot.”

  “Watching me do the dishes was super-hot?” asked Kirsty skeptically.

  “Watching you do the dishes was incredibly hot.”

  “Pervert.”

  “You better believe it. Hey, it’s my birthday next month. You think the perfect 1950s wife would be able to put in another appearance for that?”

  Kirsty grinned. “Oh I think that’s a definite possibility. I’ll even remember to make sure I have a white frilly apron to wear this time.”

  “That’s good because I think there should definitely be baking of homemade cookies involved somewhere and I would hate for you to get your lovely dress all floury.”

  * * * * *

  The following Saturday, Kirsty finished work at Lorelei’s Hair Salon at six o’clock and headed towards home. Much as she loved her job, she did find it a little frustrating that her working hours didn’t always fit in that well with Logan’s. Logan worked a regular Monday through Friday, nine-to-five, working week in his job at the Forestry Service in Golden. However, working in a hair salon meant that Kirsty needed to be available for work on weekends and evenings because that was often the best time for clients to be able to make an appointment. It couldn’t be helped but it cut down on the amount of time that Kirsty and Logan could spend together on weekends.

  As Kirsty walked the short distance between the salon and her house, Kirsty thought about Logan and how he had seemed somewhat distracted both last night and this morning. It was a bit odd. After the perfect housewife roleplay and Valentine’s Day, Logan had been extra attentive this week but then the last day or so he had seemed a little withdrawn and sort of cagey. Kirsty wondered if she was imagining things or whether he had something on his mind.

  When she reached her house, she unlocked the door and went in.

  To her surprise, Logan was waiting for her as she walked in the door. He handed her a mocktini and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, honey,” he said. “Have a good day at work?”

  Kirsty smiled. “Not too bad. What’s this in aid of?”

  “Just thought it would be nice to have a romantic candlelit dinner together this evening. We don’t need it to be Valentine’s Day in order to celebrate do we?”

  “Of course not. You usually do the cooking anyway though, so I’m not sure this going to feel like much of a change from normal.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m hoping this dinner might be rather special,” said Logan.

  “Really? I’m intrigued,” replied Kirsty, taking a sip of her drink.

  A worried look passed across Logan’s face.

  “You okay, Logan?” asked Kirsty slightly taken aback by the intensely serious way he was now looking at her.

  “Yeah. Never better. Just a bit nervous, that’s all.” He ran his hand through his hair agitatedly. “Aw hell, I was going to wait until after dinner but there’s no way I can stand the suspense that long.”

  “What on earth are you…” began Kirsty and then gave a squeak of surprise as Logan got down on one knee in front of her and pulled a small square box from his pants pocket.

  “Kirsty,” he said. “I hope this isn’t too sudden for you. I know we’ve only just moved in together, but I also know that you’re the most amazing person I have ever met and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” He opened the box revealing a white gold diamond ring and took a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

  “Holy fucking shit,” gasped Kirsty.

  Logan quirked an eyebrow. “‘Holy fucking shit’? Is that your answer?”

  “No!” blurted Kirsty. “I mean, no, it isn’t my answer not no, I won’t marry you. Because I totally will do that.”

  “So that’s a ‘yes’?” asked Logan, still looking a little unsure.

  “Of course it’s a fucking yes, you idiot!” said Kirsty gleefully. “Give me my ring!”

  Logan stood and smiling, slipped the ring onto the third finger of Kirsty’s left hand. “So when our grandchildren ask about how we decided to get married, am I going to tell them that your considered response was ‘Of course it’s a fucking yes, you idiot’?”

  “Whoa, steady on there, buster. I don’t think we should be planning for grandchildren just yet. And yeah, sorry your words were much prettier than mine. But you did kind of take me surprise there.” She looked down at her hand. “Oh Logan,” she breathed. “It’s really pretty. Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” said Logan. “You have no idea about how worried I was asking you. It seemed like such a good idea a week ago but this morning I was so close to losing my nerve and jacking in the whole idea entirely.”

  “That’s why you were in such a weird mood, you big lummox,” said Kirsty. “So when do you think we should actually get hitched then? I’m thinking it should be a reasonably longish engagement, don’t you? We have only been dating for about six months.”

  “That’s tons of time compared to some Corbin’s Bend marriages,” chuckled Logan. “But sure, there’s no need to rush things. Maybe we should look at getting married around next Valentine’s Day? What do you think?”

  Kirsty slipped her arms around Logan’s neck. “I think that sounds perfect,” she said. “Hey,” she said suddenly. “You said you first thought of proposing a week ago? Was that related to me dressing up as a 1950s housewife for Valentine’s Day?”

  Logan laughed. “Kinda. I did find the whole idea of you role-playing the perfect wife really hot. And I realized that a large part of that was because I really, really liked the idea of thinking about you as my wife.”

  “Hmm. Does that mean you want me to be that sort of wife, all domestic chores and sweet unquestioning obedience?”

  “I hardly think that’s likely, do you?”

  Kirsty giggled. “Probably not.”

  Logan kissed her fully on the mouth, his tongue pushing past her eager lips and probing her mouth fully. Kirsty felt a jolt of fiery desire course through her body. When he pulled away, he smiled at her broadly.

  “I don’t care what kind of wife you are,” he said. “As long as you’re mine.”

  The End

  Etta Stark

  Etta Stark is an enthusiastic writer and reader of romantic spanking fiction. She writes the kinds of books that she enjoys reading herself - spanking romances with strong characters and proper plotlines in between all the delicious discipline. She lives near London and is happiest when cuddled up with a contented cat and a nice cup of tea.

  Visit Etta’s website here:

  http://ettastark.blogspot.co.uk/

  Or follow her on Twitter

  @etta_stark

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  Ruth Staunton

  ©2015 by Blushing Books® and Ruth Staunton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Staunton, Ruth

  Unexpected Surprises

 
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-698-4

  Cover Design by Anthony Walsh

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Now, I know you’re all excited because it’s nearly Valentine’s,” Lainie Taylor said to the students in her second period eighth grade English class, “and some of you probably have plans with your special someone—” Here she paused for the requisite blushing, eye-rolling, and muttered comments that inevitably went along with mentioning relationships or emotions around adolescents – “But please try to remember that your projects on The Giver are due by Friday. Also, Friday means Friday by class time, not appearing on my front porch sometime Friday evening.” This produced a round of giggles and nudges and knowing looks in the direction of the culprit whose last book project had done just that. The student in question grinned cheekily at her and tried not to look like he was slumping in his seat. Luckily, he was saved from the possibility of further humiliation when the bell rang to signal the change of classes. Instantly, the room exploded into a flurry of activity. Books slammed closed. Papers were jammed into bookbags, and students poured out of the room, talking, jostling, and laughing as they went.

  Lainie stood at the door until the last student disappeared. Then, she slipped back into her room, closing the door behind her and sank gratefully into the chair behind her desk. It was only second period, and she was already exhausted. How could she possibly be this tired? It made absolutely no sense. She loved her new job here in Corbin’s Bend. Her class size was roughly half of what it had been back when they had lived in North Carolina. She’d had as many students in two of her classes there as they had in the entire eighth grade here. That meant her accompanying workload of student essays and projects had gone down too. She had less grading and paperwork to do now than she had had her entire teaching career. It was wonderful. She knew all of her students and their parents, a feat that she had never once accomplished in any of her other teaching positions. Discipline problems were minimal if at all. She had parent support like most teachers could only dream of. She was able to attempt lessons she would’ve never dared tried in the chaotic, overcrowded, test driven world of the public school. So why was she just as exhausted with classes that averaged fifteen students as she had been with classes of thirty or more?

  Before she could ponder the answer to that question, there was a single knock on the door and Beau Davies, the vice principal, stuck his head in. “Hey Lainie, are you still willing to help with planning and chaperoning the Valentine’s Day dance?”

  Crap, she had totally forgotten telling him after the last faculty meeting that she would be willing to help. “Sure, of course I will,” she said cheerfully.

  “Great!” Beau said, beaming at her. “I’m trying to get at least one teacher from each grade level to be on the planning committee. We’ll have our first meeting after school today in the conference room in the front office.”

  “Today?” Lainie echoed stupidly. “After school?”

  “Yeah,” Beau nodded. “Since we’re involving both the high school and middle school in this event, that’s the best time for everyone to meet. I know it’s a little short notice, but I did mention that in the last faculty meeting. If you can’t make it, I can try to get someone else to sit in for you, but it would really be best if you could be there yourself.”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” Lainie assured him. “I’ll be there.”

  “Wonderful,” Beau replied. “I’ll see you then.”

  Lainie waited until she was certain that he had completely closed the door behind him and disappeared down the hall before she dropped her head down on her desk. Grant was going to kill her. He had already been making noises about her over committing to things. So far, he had stopped short of actually restricting her from doing anything or making it an actual rule, but he’d been clear that that was completely dependent on her reining it in herself.

  It wasn’t like she meant to get involved in too many things. It just seemed to happen, often without her even knowing how. She couldn’t help that there were requisite meetings and afterschool activities that she was expected to be involved in. Neither of them worked nine to five jobs. Surely, being a police officer, her husband should understand that. It was just part of the job.

  Okay, maybe all of it wasn’t part of the job. The problem with being a teacher was that nearly everybody in the community knew her, and no one had any problem at all asking her to help with things. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Besides, she liked helping and being involved. She felt more part of the community here than she ever had anywhere else they had lived. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Grant couldn’t be upset about that, right?

  Sighing, Lainie pulled open her bottom desk drawer and dug in her purse for her cell phone. Might as well go ahead and bite the bullet and let Grant know. Her planning period was rapidly disappearing, and before she knew it, she’d have students waiting at her door again. Taking a deep breath, she dialed Grant’s number and hoped for the best.

  * * * * *

  Grant fumbled in his pocket for his ringing phone and smiled when he pulled it out and saw his wife’s number on the screen. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, bringing the phone to his ear. “What’s going on?” It wasn’t unheard of for Lainie to call him during the workday, at least, not anymore. A year ago, such a call would have had him running for his car before he had ever fully answered the phone because the only time Lainie would have called him when he was at work was in case of an emergency. Now though, she would occasionally call him when she got a free moment just to chat. It didn’t happen every day or even most days, but it happened often enough that her call did not immediately cause alarm.

  “Nothing major,” Lainie assured him. “I just wanted to let you know that I have a meeting after school today. It’s the planning meeting for the Valentine’s Day dance so I have no idea how long it will last.”

  “I see,” Grant said carefully. “Lainie, you know I don’t mind you helping with things, but I thought we talked about you not committing to so many activities.”

  “I know,” Lainie replied. “I forgot I said I would do this. If it had been another teacher who asked me, I would’ve tried to get out of it, but it was Beau. He’s my boss, at least sort of. I can’t exactly say no to my boss.”

  Actually, Grant was fairly sure that Beau would’ve understood if Lainie had simply explained to him. He didn’t know the man well, but from what he knew of him, Beau seemed like a reasonable man. “Okay,” Grant agreed reluctantly, “I can see how you might have felt trapped in that situation, but do not plan to do anything else. You’re doing more than enough now.”

  “I didn’t plan to do this,” Lainie insisted. “I just got backed into a corner. That’s not my fault. Besides, these extracurricular activities come with the territory with teaching. You know that.”

  He did. He just didn’t believe it was necessary that she participate in every extracurricular activity that came her way. “I do,” he agreed, “but Lainie, we will talk about this when you get home.”

  There was an audible pause on Lainie’s end of the line. Finally, she said, “Okay.”

  Nope, that wasn’t going to cut it. It might have taken awhile for him to get the hang of being in a domestic discipline relationship, but over the past several months, he had become an expert in both his wife’s verbal and nonverbal signals. Her saying okay in that particular tone was a definite red flag. That was Lainie at her passive aggressive best, wanting him to believe she agreed while not really complying at all. He had learned the hard way to stomp on it fast and hard. “Excuse me?”

  Lainie let out an explosive breath. “Grant,” she hissed in a way that was almost but not quite a whine, “I’m at work.”

 
; “And?” he pressed. “It’s Corbin’s Bend. I could probably spank you in your classroom as long as there weren’t children present without raising any eyebrows, much less expecting you to give me a proper answer. Now answer me properly.”

  Lainie heaved a heavy sigh, and he could almost see her blush. “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. In truth, Grant couldn’t care less about titles. They had taught the children to use yes, sir and no, sir simply as a matter of course. When they lived in North Carolina, it had been considered basic manners, right along with please and thank you, but he had never really been hung up on it. He’d never even considered it with Lainie, though he knew some people in the DD world insisted on it, particularly those who felt closer to the BDSM side of the line. The fact of the matter was he had stumbled on it accidentally. Once he had learned to spot her passive aggressive answers, he had begun insisting that she give him a definite yes or no. A few times, when she had been doggedly trying to avoid answering, he had pushed her to the point of saying yes, sir, and one night after one of Jonathan and Benjamin’s summer cookouts, when she had been more than a little tipsy, Lainie had admitted that it helped when he pushed her to that point. Having to acknowledge him and his authority in that way solidified it as more of a real commitment in her head. Since then, when something was really important, he pushed her to answer him in that manner. It wasn’t something he would want to do all the time, but it served its purpose quite well.

 

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