by Thianna D
That didn’t mean she was happy about it. Or logical at all. She wanted him here. Last year he had woken her up in the most delicious way before painting her entire crotch with edible paints and then licking them off. After she came down from her intense set of orgasms, she had been glad that Jonathon and Benjamin had let Kayla stay over the night before.
“Damn, he’s so wonderful. Why am I taking out my annoyance on him?”
She wished it was June and this wedding was past them. Or that she would get up the gumption to talk him into running to Reno anyway. But she couldn’t do that. So many people in Corbin’s Bend plus his amazing family were looking forward to the occasion.
It was an event. Ugh. Seven bridesmaids. Who the hell needed seven bridesmaids? She didn’t, and yet she had them. Add in the groomsmen, Kayla as their flower girl, one of Brent’s nephews as the ring bearer, and a crowd of over two hundred people watching them… A low groan left her throat. She didn’t want this. She really didn’t want this. And to top it all off was the dress.
Bonking her head on the wall ahead of her, she whimpered. The dress was luscious ivory silk and clung to her perfectly with a four-foot train running behind. It made her look like a Grecian goddess and she hated it. Before the whole wedding thing had happened, she had seen a pretty oriental-style dress in a window that she told Brent she loved. When he proposed and she accepted, she had intended to get that dress for their wedding trip.
Now she was stuck with the gorgeous dress, the huge guest list, and the over-the-top wedding reception at the community center. “I’m being such a bitch,” she muttered. “So many women would kill for this and I hate it. What’s wrong with me?” After all, in the end, she was getting the desired result. She would be Charmagne Carmichael at that point, Brent’s wife. And wasn’t that what was important?
By the way she kicked the wall, obviously not. Her timer went off and with a sense of urgency she turned it off and tossed it across the room. Kayla was singing something through the speaker and as Char paced back and forth in her bedroom, an idea came to her. If Brent wouldn’t come to her, then she sure as hell could come to him. And give him a piece of her mind.
All her thoughts of none of this being his fault fled, as righteous anger took hold. Opening her bedroom door, she called out. “Kayla! Get dressed in something warm. We’re going to see Daddy.”
Her daughter’s excited squeal was followed by the sound of her jumping off her bed.
Turning to her closet, Charmagne stared at the offerings. She should dress in something warm. Brent would want her to dress in something warm. He was always careful about her safety. That decided it. Grabbing a skintight silver sequined dress that went down to just below her crotch, she stripped. After pulling on a pair of sheer blue leggings, she donned the dress, the spaghetti straps making her shoulders feel cold already. Slipping her feet into a pair of boots, she pulled her hair up into a messy bun and walked out into the hallway just as her daughter walked out of her room in a sweater, jeans, and boots.
“Wow, Mommy. You look like a princess.”
“Thanks, honey. Let’s go see Daddy.”
After getting Kayla covered in her winter coat and letting her skip out to the truck, Char grabbed a knee-length coat from the closet. She planned on making a statement, not freezing to death. Her fingers clung to the wheel as her truck made its way down the steep incline of their drive. Charmagne never thought about the steepness of it unless it was covered in ice and snow. Of course, Brent had made sure she had chains on, so she made it to the bottom without incident and turned right, the windshield wipers going as quickly as they could to fight off the flurries of snow.
To her surprise, the parking lot at the dome was filled to overflowing. She had to park two blocks away. Once they were out of the truck, she took her daughter’s hand as her little girl loved to go pounce in snow, and they headed to the community center. As soon as the door opened, she was shocked at the amount of noise. Who all was here?
The sounds were coming from the large community room and as she took a step forward to see what was going on, Benjamin stepped into view.
“Uncle Benny!” Kayla squealed, ripping her hand out of Char’s and running into the arms of her godfather.
“Miss Kayla,” he said pleased, swinging her around. Her delighted laughter bounced around the foyer. “How are you doing today, my little princess?”
“Great! Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Same to you, pumpkin.” His eyes switched to Char and hers narrowed as an amused expression crossed his face. “So, how are you doing on this fine day, Charmagne?”
“You don’t want to know.”
A snort of laughter left him and he turned to Kayla. “I think you and I should go to my house. What do you say?”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up as if she’d just been told Christmas was this week as she turned toward Char. “Can I, Mommy?”
At first, Char wanted to say no as this was the day for all three of them. Then again, she had dressed provocatively. Maybe it would be nice to have some one-on-one time with her fiancé. “I think that’s a superb idea,” she said, warming up to it. “We can come pick her up later.”
“Nah. We’ll drop her by after we’ve had all the fun we can.” With a wink, he turned back to the room. “I’m heading out,” he called. “If you need more help, have Jonathon call me.”
“Thanks, Benjamin!” That was Brandon Delt’s voice.
“What’s going on?” she asked as he went to walk by her.
“Emergency,” he explained. “Since we aren’t sure if the homes that don’t have power will be getting it any time soon, we’re setting up emergency shelter here. Beds, chairs, sleeping bags… The restaurants have been tasked with making enough to feed the lot.”
“Oh.” As he and her daughter left, with Kayla chattering lively about tea parties, Charmagne felt some of her anger deflate. Damnit. Things were so bad that they were setting up emergency shelter? “I’m such a bitch,” she muttered.
“Char!” Brent’s happy voice had her swing round as he reached the bottom stair. “I didn’t expect to see you,” he said warmly, pulling her into a nice tight hug. Her arms clutched around him, holding him just as tightly. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“You didn’t tell me it was so bad. Or I didn’t get it from what you said. Part of the community’s going to be housed here?” She stepped back, her anger jumping back to the forefront. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have come help!” As if to add to her statement, she stomped her foot, drawing his eye. As he caught sight of her sheer leggings, he frowned.
“What are you wearing?”
“Not much,” she snapped back. “And that’s my choice to make!” Freezing, she realized she’d just thrown down the gauntlet. If she was honest with herself, which she had no intention of being, she’d been aching for a hard spanking for a few weeks, something to knock her stress off her shoulders. Now, she stared with wide eyes as her fiancé’s gray eyes, instead of darkening to that firm look that would tell her a spanking was imminent, softened and turned gentle. Which just infuriated her further.
“Baby,” he murmured, cupping her jaw in his hands. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“I want to help,” she said in a mulish tone.
“There are more than enough people,” he said firmly. “And I’ve got plans.”
“Plans?” she shot back, widening her stance a bit. “You’ve been here all day long, Brent Joshua Carmichael. What kind of plans could you possibly have besides ignoring your fiancée and daughter?”
If she’d thought about it, she would have realized she was way over the line, but she wasn’t thinking right now so much as striking back. One moment she was glaring at him with her hands on her hips and the next she was over his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs. “Brent!” she hollered but he ignored her. The man was incredibly strong and he worked out often eno
ugh that running up flights of stairs to reach the top didn’t even put him out of breath.
“Corner,” he commanded, putting her on her feet in his office.
For a moment, she stood there weaving back and forth with his hands on her hips to steady her until the blood stopped rushing from her head. Once she was okay, he turned and left the room. Only then did she notice Calbert and Jonathon leaving the office. Ah, damn. Great. They’d had an audience. Just what she needed. What was this? A wedding rehearsal?
“Corner, Charmagne,” he called from wherever he was. Grumbling she walked over to the corner next to his desk and glared at the wall. Boy, wasn’t this the Valentine’s Day from hell?
“All right,” he said as he walked back into the office and closed the door behind him, “we’ll talk about what’s bothering you now, you’ll take your discipline, and we’ll start our wonderful weekend together; or you’ll take your discipline, we’ll talk about what’s bothering you, and start our wonderful weekend together. Your choice.”
So many responses came to her. “Kiss off,” “I don’t want to talk,” and “This whole wedding is bothering me,” were the three most prominent but as she wasn’t ready to talk, she stayed silent.
“All right. Don’t move.” Surprised as he always had her bend over something to spank her, she just stood where she was. His arms reached around her and he unbuckled, unbuttoned, and quickly removed her coat. Two seconds later, her mini-dress was above her hips and her leggings were at her knees.
“Brent!”
“Not a word unless you want to talk, Charmagne.” Growling in her throat, she stayed silent. She supposed she really did want whatever he was about to do. After all, Char was tired of being cranky and irritable. That wasn’t her. She’d take her swings like a good girl and then they could enjoy the rest of the day. Taking a deep breath, she released it, waiting for the first blow.
It didn’t come. Instead, his hands smoothed something warm over her rear end. It tingled and she wondered what it was. Would it increase the pain of each swing? Knowing her man, that was highly possible. He said he wasn’t, but at times like this, she could swear he was a sadist. His hands left her body, something sounding like plastic gloves coming off and hitting the trashcan filled the air, and he hiked her leggings back up and her skirt down.
Turning and looking at him in confusion, she cocked an eyebrow. “What was that?”
“Your punishment. Now put your coat on. It’s cold outside.” He held the coat open for her and confused, she slid her arms through the holes. Before she could do it, he quickly fastened her coat, even buttoning the bottom two buttons which she usually ignored. “All right. Let’s get going, baby.” Taking her hand he led her along, down the stairs, and toward the outer door.
“So, we’ll meet at home?” she guessed, still confused at the cream. It hadn’t done anything except throw her off. Her stress and anger were still there under the surface.
“No. Give me your keys.” Muddled, she fished them out of her pocket and handed them over. Dropping her hand, he walked over to Jonathon’s office. “Char’s keys. Will you get the truck home?”
“No problem, Brent. Have fun!” Jonathon called as Brent tossed her keys through the door.
Fun. Only in a community like Corbin’s Bend, she though in amusement, would the fact her man was about to take her home and wallop her backside be considered fun. Coming back to her, he took her hand and walked her outside and to his vehicle. He was driving the 4x4, which didn’t surprise her. Brent tended to use it in the winters more than just his regular truck.
He didn’t drive them home. Instead, just before the turn off to their home, he turned left and went up toward the helipad. Confused and not really wanting to ask him where he was going, she stared out the window, guilty that she was acting this way and yet angry because all he’d done was rub some kind of lotion on her ass. What kind of discipline was that, anyway? Huffing slightly, she glared at the continuing snow fall.
“I hope this stops soon,” he commented as he reached the helipad and drove through the area, slowing down as he turned on a barely-there path.
“Brent! Where are we going?” she asked as the truck lurched. The sound of the metal chains churning up the snow didn’t help. This was not the time for a woodland drive.
“Somewhere special.”
Turning, she focused her glare on him. “Somewhere special? How nice,” she said, her tone so acerbic she half expected – hoped? – that he would stop the truck, yank her across his lap and pound her ass until she felt better. The bastard actually looked amused. “I’m not a deer, Brent. Outside in the snow isn’t my dream of a romantic day. And I’m cold.” As if to add weight to her words, she pulled her hands inside the sleeves of her coat and hunched down.
All she got in response was a chuckle. “It’ll get warmer.”
A few minutes into their over-the-snow drive, they found a slightly better path which had been used more often. The road was a little easier going, but heat, which had slowly simmered in the background, flared up on her ass and she sat up straight. What the hell was that? Squirming a bit, she remembered the cream he’d rubbed in and put two and two together. “Oh my god, what did you rub on my butt?”
“Just something to warm you up.”
Something to… Her mouth dropped open. “Ginger oil?”
“No, it’s called capsaicin cream.”
“What is it, Brent? It’s getting hot!”
“It’ll get hotter before we get there.”
Get where? “Brent,” she said, now unable not to squirm. “It’s really uncomfortable.”
“Yep.”
That was less than helpful. “Brent,” she whined as the heat became a fire. Instead of licking across her skin like a paddle would do, it lit up her entire ass as if someone had turned on a flame thrower.
“There’s still an hour until we get to our destination, Char. The heat won’t stop until we wash it off. Talk to me.”
An hour? And he wanted her to talk? Turning to look out the window, she closed her mouth, trying to ignore the fact her ass was going up in flames.
* * * * *
Driving along, Brent cast a glance at his girl every once in a while. He knew that cream well as he had used it for injuries before. But he hadn’t wanted to spank her ass at the dome; she really didn’t like it when anyone else could hear. This had been his solution. Of course he wanted her to talk. Brent had been trying to get her to talk about her stress since Christmas when she began acting strange. She kept telling him everything was all right and some of the women in the community told him she was probably going through something called post-holiday blues, but he knew there had to be more. And he was pretty sure it had to do with the wedding. Tonight, they were going to get everything out in the open so that tomorrow would be a wonderful day.
The cabin they were headed toward was owned by his cousin Micah. He could have taken her the normal route through the highway and up a small track, but he knew this route well and right now felt it was good to not have Char know where they were headed. Hopefully she was taking her sullen time to think.
Damn but he loved her. He never thought it was possible to love anyone more than he loved Eliza and yet… here she sat, beautiful lady in her barely-there dress and her sullen expression. The way she had spoken to him at the dome told him he had waited too long to force the issue. Charmagne didn’t talk back unless she was truly stressed. Poor thing. As soon as they got there, he’d make her talk, they’d wash off the cream, and he’d spank her ass until she couldn’t sit down. Once she was relaxed, they could start the romantic evening he had planned.
“There it is,” he commented once his truck crested a hill and he turned off onto another drive which was almost impossible to see unless the individual knew it was there.
Looking forward, her eyes, watering from the pain in her behind, looked around until spotting it. “Micah’s cabin?”
“Yep. He let us use it.”
For ten seconds she was quiet before she turned a glare on him again. Good, let her get angry. Maybe it would force her to talk. “You couldn’t have let me know you had Valentine’s Day plans? I’ve been upset all day because you left before I was even awake. And what’s Kayla going to think? She thought her Daddy was going to build a snowman with her.”
That was low, throwing Kayla in his face like that, and they both knew it. Frowning, he glared back. “Don’t. Benjamin and Jonathon are more than prepared to take care of our little girl and you know it. She loves being with them and will probably not even notice we’re gone.” Well, that wasn’t quite true, but right at this moment, their daughter was probably too excited to care as his parents should have shown up by now. Between them and Kayla’s godfathers, she would have a great time.
She had the grace to look slightly ashamed of her words. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Lie, he thought. She did know, at some level. And he was going to make sure that tonight they cleared the air. Charmagne had been under too much stress and he was going to make sure that ended. Now.
After pulling into the garage, he hopped out, walking around to help her out of the truck, barely containing a sigh when he found her already out. She hadn’t done that since the early days of their dating. Yep, she was pissed. Ignoring him, she walked toward the door that led into the main living room. “When you get in there, take off your coat and go warm yourself up by the fire. Do not go wash off the cream.” Her face, which was already pink from the cold, flushed a deep red. No doubt that had been her plan.
After she went inside, he pulled the seats forward and removed the three bags he’d packed. Two were overnight bags with clothing, though he didn’t expect them to wear too much while they were here, and a garment bag. Char was crouched in front of the fire which Micah had lit before he left this morning. Good thing about gas fireplaces. They could just keep going. Ignoring her for the moment, he walked across the wood floor to the bedroom, placing the garment bag in the back of the closet and their overnight bags in the bathroom. Opening one bag, he pulled out a paddle before heading back out into the large living space.
