Rescuing Regina

by Lee Savino

  “And now that he fired you, you can’t.” The pity in his face made me want to crawl into a hole. He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I laughed because I didn’t know what else to do. He sounded so sure of himself.

  “You trust me right?”

  I gazed into his hazel eyes. Of course I trust you. The words sat on the tip of my tongue. My stomach growled.

  “I’m going to make you some food.” He stood, and my body cried out at the loss of his warm weight. “Shower first. I bet you’re ready to get out of those clothes.”

  “Why, Cole, I thought you’d never ask.”

  He glared. “You’re wet and cold, and coming down from a high. I’m going to get you something dry to wear, and you’re going to wash up. You’re filthy.”

  I huffed. He didn’t have to say it like that.

  He led me to a little bathroom. The ranch house wasn’t much to look at from the outside but inside everything looked clean and new.

  “This is nice tile,” I said as if I was getting a tour. “Who did it?”

  “I did.” Cole said. “I fix this place up on my days off.”

  Of course he did.

  He turned on the shower and tested the water. “In you go. Help yourself to soap and shampoo.”

  “You’re not going to wash my back?” I snarked. The thought of a simple creature comfort like hot water brought my courage back.

  “Not unless you need me to.” He raised a brow, as if waiting for me to be a smart aleck. Goddamn Cole Townsend. Even when he was twelve he’d had the ability to make me feel about two feet tall. When I said nothing, he nodded and left. The bathroom door clicked decisively behind him.

  I stripped. I had to get out of this mess. My mom would be okay for the night—her nurse was there, but if she woke in the morning and I was still gone, she’d be worried sick. If she remembered who I was.

  My best bet for escape was a high window which was at the end of the tub—a sign that this house was old enough to originally have a claw foot tub. If I stood on the tub’s edge, I could peer out at the rainy night, but the old frame seemed to be painted shut. I worked at it for a minute and got it to budge when the bathroom door opened.

  “Regina?”

  I froze.

  “I’m just taking your wet things to the wash.”

  “Okay!” I waited until the door closed again before cussing. There went my escape plan.

  I hit the window frame and it shuddered free of the stuck paint. Maybe I could jimmy it open and escape in a towel.

  A few minutes later, I’d gotten the window open enough to get my front half through. Rain slicked down the front lawn ahead of me. If I wedged my feet on the tub’s edge, I could get enough height to push myself through.

  I was about to retreat and wrap myself in a towel so I could attempt a jailbreak when the window fell onto my shoulders, pinning me. I yelped. In my struggle, my feet slipped off their tenuous perch on the side of the tub.

  Panicking, I barely heard the bathroom door open.

  “You okay in there?”

  “Fine!” I answered before I realized he’d be able to tell my head was sticking out of the house. For a second I thought he bought it, when a rustle and a waft of air on my bare back told me Cole had drawn the shower curtain back.

  “Regina…”

  “I was just seeing how hard it was raining,” I said. My feet had found purchase on the side of the tub again, but one move and they might slip. “You know, you really should replace these windows. I’m stuck.”

  Cole said nothing.

  I was acutely aware of my bare naked buns pointing at him. The water of the shower was turning cold, not to mention the rain on my face. He needed to replace his gutters, too.

  “A little help here?” I demanded.

  Cole turned off the water. He laid a hand on my back and slid it down the curve of my ass. Probably inspecting his handiwork from before. The sting had subsided to a dull throbbing ache that I barely noticed until his fingers squeezed lightly. Despite myself I shivered, hard, and not because it was cold. After all the liberties he’d taken that night, blistering my bottom, this soft touch made everything inside me quiver to attention.

  “You know,” he said. “This isn’t a bad position. Maybe I should leave you here all night.”

  I opened my mouth to yell at him and thought better of it. “Please don’t.”

  Already the warmth from the shower was dissipating, and I’d started to shiver with real cold.

  The hand left my backside to push the window up. I bit my lip as his body pressed against me.

  “Careful.” His heat hit my back as he helped me down. He set me on my feet and checked me over, while I looked anywhere but his face. He’d changed into jeans and a faded white t-shirt. His feet were bare. That seemed strangely intimate.

  Naked, wet and cold, I stared at the washed out logo on his t-shirt. I didn’t have it in me to be a smart aleck.

  “Turn around.”

  Using a washcloth, he rubbed marks from the window off my back. I didn’t speak as he took my hand, toweled me off like I was seven years old. To be honest, I’d been acting like it.

  “Time to dress you, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart? This was very un-sheriffy.

  I hesitated.

  “Put your hands up,” he ordered. That was more like it.

  I did and he dropped the t-shirt over my head, whipping the towel away at the same time. The soft fabric went to my knees. I forgot how big he was. Big and broad and suddenly the bathroom was too small for the two of us.

  “Cole. What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking care of you.” He bound up my wet hair, then gave the pony tail a tug. “Come on.”

  Chapter Four

  A minute later, I sat in his little kitchen drinking a glass of water and studying the wallpaper.

  “Cole.”

  “Yes?” He didn’t turn from the counter.

  “Your kitchen is decorated in tiny cocks.”

  “Roosters.”

  “Whatever. I guess the renovations haven’t made it this far.”

  “Maybe I just like chickens,” he said mildly, setting a sandwich on a plate and glass of milk in front of me.

  My eye followed the march of red-combed birds around his entire kitchen. “No one likes chickens this much.”

  “Eat.” He tapped the plate. “You need it.”

  I finally looked him in the eye.

  Straight nose, short buzzed hair that somehow looked soft as down. Hazel eyes. Delicious mouth. I was in Cole Townsend’s house, he’d seen my bare butt twice, and we were all alone.

  I shivered.

  He frowned. “I’ll turn the heat up.”

  I picked up the sandwich. To my delight, it had peanut butter and white marshmallow fluff together on sensible wheat bread.

  “A Fluffernutter,” I breathed in awe. “Where did you find the fluff?”

  “Cross Brothers grocer still has it. You told me Fluffernutters are your favorite.”

  A thrill went through me that he remembered.

  “You told me I shouldn’t eat them.”

  “It’s pure sugar.” He winced. “You don’t need anything to make you more hyper.”

  I grinned. “That was the last summer you worked as a camp counselor. I knew I had something to do with it.”

  “Yes, Regina.” He sighed. “All the camp counselors vowed to quit that day.”

  I ate while he watched me, an almost smile playing over that perfect mouth. I even drank the milk when he tapped the glass. My throat still felt dry.

  I jumped when his radio crackled. He rose. “I need to take this.” He pointed a finger at me. “Stay.”

  I nodded, happy to obey. Cole always had the power to make me stay put. Right now, I was enjoying the sound of his voice giving orders over the phone. So dominant and...sheriff-y.

  The call ended and he strode back. “Finish your sandwich, Regina.
”

  “Okay.” I obeyed like I was six again, and he was twelve. He watched me while I ate, and I loved it now as I loved it then.

  “You look good, Cole. Very official.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  I started to speak with my mouth full, but he fixed me with a glare and I chewed.

  “We’re going to talk more in the morning, but tell me this…why didn’t you ask for money?”

  The delicious combo of peanut butter and marshmallow cream turned to dust in my mouth. “Who would I ask?” I made myself swallow. My heart hurt.

  “Regina.”

  “No, who Cole? My trailer park neighbors? My college friends, who’ve just graduated with a ton of loans? My dad, who walked out when I was ten?” I hunched my shoulders and pushed the plate away. “I’m done.”

  He put the plate in the sink, and returned and put his hand on mine on the table. “You could’ve said something.”

  I scoffed. I couldn’t help it. I’d never fit in and he knew it.

  He sat back, looking disappointed. The sight tugged on my heartstrings. Did he really think I’d run to him? He’d looked after me a few times when we were kids, but I hadn’t even spoken to him since I returned, forced to return home after only two years of college.

  “We’ll talk in the morning,” he said. “After you’ve had a little sleep, you’ll be thinking clearer.”

  “What makes you think I’m not thinking clearly now?”

  “You tried to climb out of my bathroom window buck naked.”

  I scowled at the mental image. “I was going to take a towel.”

  He shook his head, but there was a little smile around the corner of his mouth. “You’re not a mean drunk. You’re a hilarious one. But I think it’s best you sleep this off.”

  “I can walk home.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “But my mom—”

  “I called your house. Your mom’s sleeping. Becky is there, and has instructions to tell your mom you’re with a friend, if she asks.”

  “You called my mother? You can’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Take over my life!”

  “Someone has to.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Somehow Cole knowing my life was a mess was too much to bear.

  He hesitated. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “No, Cole, now.”

  “Mr. Roberts called me. He’s worried about you.”

  “Because I missed a few days of work before he fired me?”

  “That, and the fact that you stole over three grand from him in the past four months.”

  I felt hot. Then cold. Then numb. “How did you know?”

  “He told me.”

  Denial was on my tongue, it tasted like dust. I swallowed it. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “How did he find out?” My voice sounded tiny, like it was coming from very far away.

  “You’re not going to deny it?”

  “No.”

  “Good girl,” he murmured. The words made me feel better than I had all night. Weird.

  “He checked a few strange shipments, orders for supplies never received. He realized you faked them.”

  I had. I wasn’t proud of it. $400 here, $200 there. The largest was $700, and I forged a receipt in one of the warehouse bathrooms. I needed so much more. Mr. Roberts was a good man. He gave me my first job when I was sixteen, and took me back when I dropped out of college to look after my mom. I’d been desperate for a job, and he’d helped me out.

  I was the worst person in the world.

  “No, you’re not,” Cole said, and I realized I’d spoken aloud. “You messed up, but it’s going to be okay.”

  “How can it possibly be okay?”

  “Because I’m going to fix it.” He tugged me up. “Come on. We’re going to bed.”

  We?

  “You need sleep.”

  I didn’t resist until we were halfway down the hall.

  “Wait, Cole. What do you mean you’re going to fix it? Won’t it seem weird that I’m in all this trouble, and then I’m here?”

  “Relax, Regina, let me worry about it.”

  “Cole, no,” I tugged my hand out of his.

  I was swaying on my feet, so tired I could barely see. In the dim bedroom, his body filled my vision.

  Gently, he maneuvered me to the bed, and tipped me over his lap.

  Whap whap whap! His hand beat a strict tattoo. It didn’t quite hurt, but I felt my buns heating up.

  He rubbed my bottom and relaxation poured through me.

  He set me on my feet, arms still around me to gently squeeze my plump cheeks.

  “What was that for?”

  “Remind you who’s in charge.” His voice was deep, so deep, like a pool I could fall into. My head nodded as I leaned into him.

  His fingers stroked back my hair from my face. “You like it when I spank you?” He sounded curious, but heat lept into his hazel eyes.

  “I don’t not like it.” I buried my embarrassed face into his chest, hoping he wouldn’t push for a longer answer.

  He let me, wrapping his arms around me and murmuring into my ear. “Now you’re clean, warm, and fed. You’re going to sleep and in the morning we’re going to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good girl.”

  Warmth spread through my whole body. Cole put me to bed and tucked his body around me. His heat seeped into my body, and even exhausted, I felt higher than I’d been all night. I was in handsome Cole Townsend’s bed, bum hot from my three spankings, my body practically trembling with lust as the big man of my dreams spooned me. I wasn’t sure how the events of the night had brought me to this, but I’d take it.

  I’d think about my problems in the morning.

  ***

  I woke in the middle of the night, absolutely parched.

  “Cole—” I coughed.

  His arms wrapped around me in a vice grip. I felt hot, too hot.

  “Regina?”

  “Water,” I croaked.

  He was out of bed in a shot, padding to the kitchen.

  I sat up the instant his warmth receded and reality hit me.

  I scrambled out of the bed and got the heck out of there.

  I made it down the hall and to the door before strong arms wrapped around my body, pulling me back to the warm wall of Cole’s bare chest.

  “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

  “Let me go, Cole.” I struggled.

  “Let’s get you back in bed.”

  He hoisted me easily and I kicked.

  “Let me go! I have to go!”

  He sat me on the bed and handed me the water. Despite my desire to escape, I drank greedily.

  “Where do you have to go?”

  “To check my mom.”

  “She’s with the night nurse.”

  “Sometimes she wakes up though. Crying. And she always wants me.” I didn’t add that it was the only time she knew who I was.

  He was silent while I finished the water.

  “Do you want more?” he asked when I handed him the glass. I shook my head.

  “Regina, do you wake up every night like this? Even when you were working?”

  “Sometimes. Well, most nights, yes.”

  “All right.” He sighed, sounding tired. “Let’s call Becky.”

  “Becky?”

  “The night nurse. I spoke with her earlier.”

  I felt a little guilty because Cole sounded so tired. But I figured as a sheriff he was used to calls in the middle of the night.

  Becky came on the line, sounding way more chipper than anyone had a right to be at 3 am. She assured me all was well.

  “Does that make you feel better?” Cole asked as he ended the call.

  “A little. No,” I started up, “I need to get home. Becky leaves at 7, and I need to arrange for someone to be there so I can find a job—”

  Once again, Cole
caught me and pulled me to the bed. “Enough. It’s the middle of the night. You need sleep.”

  “But Cole—” I struggled, sleep-fogged and upset. I really was tired.

  “Enough. Keep this up and I’ll handcuff you to the bed,” he said in a firm enough tone that I believed him. “We’ll get to your mom’s house in time, I promise. Right now you need to rest.”

  “I’m all she has,” I protested.

  “Not with Becky there. She’s trained to take care of her. If she hadn’t answered the phone, I’d have driven over there, but she answered. Your mom is sleeping, she’s fine.”

  “I’m up now. I don’t want to sleep,” I said between yawns.

  He sighed. Two seconds later I was face down over his lap.

  “What are you doing?” I shrieked as he pulled up my nightshirt.

  “Getting you to sleep.”

  “Cole! That’s not going to work!”

  “It worked before.” He kneaded my buns, and started swatting. “Spanking releases endorphins.”

  “Did you read that in the police manual?”

  “Hush,” he said firmly. His palm smacked one butt cheek, then the other, spreading the sting evenly over my quivering flesh.

  It did calm me.

  When he set me on my feet, I swayed drunkenly.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  I could’ve misheard him, but I swear he whispered, “Because you’re mine.”

  Chapter Five

  Morning came and I woke. I got out of bed, but delayed leaving the room until I really had to pee.

  The sight of me in the mirror, bruises under my eyes and hair a mess, made me cringe. Had I really said all those things last night? Done them?

  I lifted the shirt Cole gave me to wear and checked my backside. Sure enough, there was some lingering redness.

  So it wasn’t a dream.

  I padded back to the bedroom and looked for a clock. There had been one on the bedside table, but it was gone. Light streamed through the curtains.

  I hit the kitchen in a panic.

  Cole leaned against the counter, sipping coffee and reading a paper. My body jolted to a stop at the sight of his long legs encased in jeans, a black polo taut on his muscled biceps and chest.

  “Morning, sunshine,” he said.

  “What time is it?” I demanded, and pointed to the microwave that said ten am. “Is that right?”