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Page 11

by Coleen Singer


  As if he'd suddenly remembered why he was spanking her, he clutched her to him more tightly than ever, spanking her harder and faster, igniting a searing heat and pain in her bottom, giving truth to his statement that it was indeed getting burned.

  "Don't you know you could get hurt?" he scolded her as she cried and begged and pleaded for him to stop. "Never mind this spanking hurting. What if you got beaten up, or raped or murdered? What then? You will never play around with a man like that again, Roo. Do you hear me?"

  "Yes, Michael," she blubbered wetly, amazed she could hear anything over the crack of hand against flesh. "I won't, I promise. Please no more."

  "If you even think about doing it again, I want you to remember this, Roo. I won't always be there to protect you." And he pushed her further forward so he could spank the soft, sweet tender flesh at the very base of her cheeks.

  "Ahh, No! No, no, no," Jill begged as she struggled to escape from the scalding pain. "Please Michael I can't take any more, please, please, please," she gabbled incoherently.

  "Very well," he muttered gruffly, stilling his arm and resting his hand on her fiery flesh. "But you will never lead a man on again unless you intend following through, will you?" And he ended his question with another sharp, stinging slap.

  "No, Michael. I won't. I promise."

  "Why not?" Slap!

  "It's dangerous..." Jill proffered appeasingly.

  "Yes, it is." Slap! "And it's cheap." Slap!

  "Yes, Michael. I won't. I promise."

  "Say it." Slap!

  "Ow. It's cheap."

  "Are you a cheap tart, Roo?" Slap!

  "No, Michael. I promise. Oh, please, please…."

  "Very well." Slap! "I hope you really have learnt your lesson this time, little girl." Slap! "Firstly Young, then me—you might not be so lucky a third time!" Slap!

  "I won't, I have, anything, oh please...." Jill no longer knew what she was saying, and tears of relief spouted like fountains as she felt him pull up her panties and lower her skirt.

  "Okay?" he asked, helping her to stand straight again.

  "Yes," she gulped, quickly wiping her eyes. "No… I mean, that really hurt."

  "It was supposed to. Remember I told you all along, no ifs or buts, you do something dangerous, your arse gets tanned good and proper. End of story. Now you'd better get back to the house before anyone comes looking. Unless you'd like them to know what just happened. You wouldn't want anyone telling your city boyfriend now would you?"

  "He's not my boyfriend."

  "Yeah, so you say. You know, Roo, I sort of wish he was. I'd rather think you were sleeping with him because he was your boyfriend, than because, well, just because."

  "It's not like that, Michael." Jill felt the tears welling up again. How could she explain?

  "Whatever." He spoke abruptly. Slipping both hands into the pockets of his jeans, he looked away from her. "It's not my business, really, though, is it? I've done what I can, as much as an older brother can, and that's all I am really, isn't it, Roo? A surrogate older brother. That's what you said. I'm sorry about last night. I should have known better. I just didn't think."

  "Think what?" Jill had hoped the spanking would bring them closer, but even in the darkness, she could see the coolness of his expression. She wanted them to stop saying hurtful things to each other, to regain the easy companionship of the past, but she didn't know how to bring it about.

  For a moment, he just looked at her. Then shrugged. "That it would come down to chicken and champagne, I guess. Come on, then," he said suddenly, taking her hand and dragging her back around the corner of the building, across the shearers' quarters and towards the house.

  "No, Michael. Wait," Jill pulled back, unwilling to return to the house with so much still unsaid between them. She didn't want to leave him until they'd sorted this out. He stopped, spun her round to face him and gripped her shoulders.

  "Come to my room now then, Roo," he entreated her urgently. "Let me make love to you. Right now. Let me show you how good I can make it for you."

  Over his shoulder, Jill could see the farmhouse silhouette peeping from behind the sheds like a guardian keeping a watchful eye on her. With all her heart, she wanted to cry Yes! Yes, my love! Yes! There was no question of the rightness of it, she had been born to be loved by Michael, but not if it meant skulking around behind closed doors. Nor would she have him for one night if she had to then give him to Rachel for the rest of his life. That pain she would never be able to bear.

  "Well?" Michael asked hoarsely.

  "No, we shouldn't. We need…" to talk first, she was going to say, but Michael didn't wait to hear any more after the 'No'.

  "To just forget it?" he finished for her. "Is that it? Fine! If that's what you want." He was angry. Shakingly angry. "Consider it forgotten. Go have chicken and champagne with your city lover, and good luck to you both."

  In a few strides from his long legs, he crossed the yard, leapt the few steps to the verandah and disappeared into his room, leaving her exhausted and heart-broken, the sound of the door slamming behind him ringing in her ears.

  Stunned by his sudden angry departure, Jill's first instinct was to run after him, to tell him that Tim meant nothing to her other than as a friend, that it was him, Michael, she loved, and that she would make love with him tonight, tomorrow and every night of her life if that were what he wanted too. But her feet refused to move. The spectre of Rachel stood between her and the closed door of his room as effectively as Cerberus. And even if she could win the battle with Rachel for Michael's heart, their families were also keen for the match. She doubted either family would encourage him to forgo the unification of the farms for a city slicker who was afraid of horses!

  There was no point going to him now, she realized. Maybe when he cooled down, she would be able to explain about Tim and the spare room. It might not change the way the future was going to unfold, but she still wanted him to know. There was always the possibility, though, that the rift that had come between them would just keep widening, that reconciliation was impossible and their special friendship was gone forever.

  For now, though, there was nothing she could do. With a last sad look at the closed door, Jill turned her attention to repairing herself sufficiently to be able to get to her room without attracting too much attention. She rinsed her face under a garden tap, and ran her fingers through her hair before letting herself back in through the kitchen door. Her attempts to compose herself, however, failed completely to deceive Vicky who happened to be washing some cups at the sink

  "There you are. I was wondering what had happened to you," she said as Jill entered, then noticing the other girl's expression, added "What's wrong, Roo? You look terrible."

  "Nothing. I mean, I've just got rather a headache," Jill lied. "I thought a breath of air might help so I went outside, but I think I might just go to bed. It'll be gone by morning."

  "I wonder what could have caused the headache," Vicky asked, clearly unconvinced. "Was Michael here? I thought I heard his voice before." The casual tone and innocent expression didn't fool Jill. Vicky might appear superficially to be unconcerned with much other than herself, her beloved husband, and generally having a good time, but underneath she was actually very astute, especially when it came to those she loved. Right now, she could see just how upset Jill was, and whilst she may not have known exactly why, she had a fair idea as to who had upset her.

  "Yes, Michael was here earlier. I think he went to his room."

  "He didn't say anything to upset you, did he?"

  "Michael? Of course not. Why on earth would you think that?" Jill hated lying to her friend but she just couldn't talk about it now, not even with Vicky. "No, really, it's just a headache, and I am rather tired. I guess it must be the excitement of the last week catching up with me."

  Vicky watched her friend carefully, her eyes narrowing as she realized just what an effort Jill was having to make to maintain even a semblance of normality.


  "Mum said Tim rang. You didn't quarrel with him, did you?" she persisted.

  "No, not at all!" Jill's assurance this time was plainly sincere.

  "Well, okay," Vicky was still worried, "if you're sure there's nothing else bothering you, maybe you should go to bed. I'll say good night to the others for you if you like. And perhaps we should just have a quiet day tomorrow. We haven't got anything in particular planned. Then you'll be nice and refreshed for the barbecue on Sunday."

  Jill blanched further at the reminder of the party at Rachel's which she would be expected to attend, but perhaps she would be better able to cope by then. She just wouldn't think about it in the meantime.

  "Thanks, Vick. I'm all right, really. I promise. I just need some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

  "All right, Roo. Good night."

  "Good night." Jill kissed her friend quickly on the cheek and fled gratefully to the sanctuary of her room. Collapsing onto her bed and burying her face in the pillow, the tears that she had just been managing to keep at bay now spilled out as the ghastly events of the evening ran through her mind again and again. The more she thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed that anything could still be salvaged from the wreck of her relationship with Michael. Her holiday was ruined and she wished now with all her heart that she had never come at all.

  Well, she couldn't change that now, but tomorrow, she remembered with a jolt, was Saturday, which meant there would be a bus leaving for Melbourne in the morning, and, she quickly decided, she would be on it. She would have to fabricate some lie about Tim urgently needing her back for work, and although in many ways she would be sorry to leave early, it was preferable to staying here and suffering the pain of seeing Michael.

  With her plan of action settled, Jill suddenly realized how tired she was. The bed felt so welcoming as she slid between the sheets that within a few short minutes she was sleeping soundly.

  She slept deeply all night and was finally awakened by a gentle tapping at her door. Opening her eyes, still red and swollen from her tears the night before, she glanced at her watch to discover, to her dismay, that it was already 11:30! The bus would be leaving even as she lay there.

  "Roo," Vicky's concerned voice sounded on the other side of the door. "Are you awake?"

  "Yes. Come in." Jill's mind was vainly trying to come to terms with the awful truth that she'd missed the bus and would now have to face everyone without letting on that her life was in ruins. Somehow, she would have to maintain the facade that everything was just fine.

  "Well, sleepyhead," Vicky greeted her as she came through the door. "Are you feeling any better?"

  "I'm fine," Jill lied.

  "No you're not." Vicky took in the puffy red eyes and the pain reflected in them. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  "No." Jill answered simply and honestly this time, knowing full well the fruitlessness of trying to deceive Vicky.

  "All right, I won't press you, but just remember if you change your mind, I make a good listener. Now, I guess you're in no hurry to come downstairs?"

  "Not really. Do you think anyone would mind?"

  "I know they wouldn't. In fact, there's no one really here to mind. Mum and Dad have gone out for lunch, and both boys are off somewhere so you can stay in bed as long as you like. How about I bring you a cup of tea?"

  "That would be heavenly. Thanks, Vick. Then I think I might just lie in bed for the rest of the day."

  In the end, though, she didn't stay in bed all day, but bored by late afternoon went for a long walk by the river, then after a light tea went back to her room for the evening. She was glad not to have seen Michael and wanted to avoid as much as possible the chance of bumping into him. She knew she'd have to see something of him before she went home, but was determined to ensure the meetings were as infrequent as possible.

  By the following afternoon, as she drove with Dave, Vicky and Alistair to the Longroh's for the barbecue, Jill still hadn't seen Michael since he'd stormed off after dishing out her first bare-bottom spanking behind the shearers' quarters. He'd been at Two Springs all morning helping with the preparations, and she'd been upstairs dressing when he'd arrived to collect his parents. She'd taken great care over her appearance, although the finished effect was quite casual. After agonizing for some time over what to wear, she'd finally decided on her stonewashed jeans and a very pretty white lace blouse. Her hair was tied back with a clip so it was off her face but not too severely, and loose tendrils added to the softness of the effect. Her makeup had been carefully but subtly applied, and the whole picture was finished with a pair of delicate gold drop earrings.

  The weather had remained cooler, and a gentle breeze ensured it would stay that way. It was a perfect day to be out, but Jill, her mind occupied only by the fact that she would have to see Michael again, was unable to feel any pleasure. Considering the circumstances under which they'd last met, she had no illusions about him being any more eager to renew their friendship than she, and she planned to endure the party only as long as absolutely necessary until she could take the first available lift back to River Gums.

  The annual Longroh barbecue was an important event on the local social calendar and by the time they arrived, the parking area near the house was already crammed with cars.

  On the sprawling lush greenness of the neatly manicured lawns surrounding the large, elegant farmhouse, people stood and sat in groups, chatting and laughing. Trestle tables, cloaked in pristine white tablecloths displayed large bowls of salad, plates, cutlery and sauces. A group of men were gathered about the barbecue each with a can of beer in hand and a piece of advice on the best way to get the fire going.

  "Let's go," cried Vicky, slipping her arms through Jill's on one side and Alistair's on the other and hustling them both through the gate. "I suppose we should pay our respects to the hosts first. With a bit of luck Rachel will be parading off somewhere and we can avoid choking on wishing her a Merry Christmas. Look, we're in luck! There's Mrs. Longroh and no sign of her not-so-darling daughter. Hello, Mrs. Longroh. Thanks for inviting us. What a fantastic party! Did you have a good Christmas?"

  Jill nodded a greeting and murmured "Hello," but although she appeared to be joining in, she couldn't help secretly searching for Michael, half dreading that she would see him, and half dreading that she wouldn't. Rachel, also, was nowhere in sight, so she assumed they must be off alone together.

  "Look, there's Mum." Vicky steered them off again. "Come on, we'll let her know we've arrived safely."

  "Ah, here you are." Elizabeth looked pleased to see them. She was sitting under the shade of a large tree and, with a shock, Jill noticed once again how tired she looked.

  They seated themselves on the soft grass at her feet and a short time later, when Vicky was again on the move, Jill declined to join her preferring instead to keep Elizabeth company.

  "Well, it seems the men have finally got the barbecue ready. Look, they're putting the meat on."

  "Yes," smiled Elizabeth. "There's Jack putting in his two cents worth. He might not admit it, you know, but I think this party is one of the highlights of his year. It's such a good opportunity to stand around with his mates."

  "Should he leave you here by yourself, though?"

  "Oh, that's all right. Actually I'm happy to sit in peace for a while and catch my breath, but I'd better go and find Chris and see if she needs a hand, I guess."

  "I'm sure Mrs. Longroh has more help than she can possibly use already. Why don't you just relax and have a nice time for once," Jill suggested gently, unable to ignore the paleness of the older woman's complexion and the dark circles under her eyes.

  "Oh, very well, if you insist," laughed Elizabeth. "But what about you? You don't want to spend the afternoon sitting here with me. Isn't there some handsome young man you have your eye on?"

  "Certainly not!"

  "Look, there's Michael. Shall I call him over and ask him to look after you?"

  Jill had spotted the
tall, broad-shouldered physique of Michael at precisely the same moment as his mother and her heart did its now customary flip-flop.

  "No! Please don't disturb him on my account. I'm quite happy to potter about on my own, and I guess he's got people he'd like to speak to. I'm sure he doesn't want me hanging around." While Rachel's here, were the words she didn't add.

  "You know, you'll probably think I'm a silly, romantic fool when I tell you this, but sometimes I used to imagine that you and Michael would… you know."

  "Would what?" Jill stared in disbelief.

  "You know, maybe fall in love and get married. I can see now that they were just foolish notions, but it seemed like it would have been such a perfect outcome, and for a while it even looked as though you might be growing fond of each other."

  Jill couldn't believe Elizabeth was unable to hear the beating of her heart, so loud was it pounding in her ears. So, even Michael's mother had thought they should get married! Why could everybody else see it except Michael?

  She began denying that there had ever been more than casual friendship between them, when he suddenly looked over their way and saw her. A frisson rippled through her as his eyes bored deep into hers.

  "What's the matter, dear? You look like you're shivering."

  "Yes, I know it's ridiculous. I think it's just from sitting in the shade." Horrified, Jill saw Michael taking his leave from the men with whom he'd been talking and start in their direction. Determined not to meet him face to face, she seized on her apparent shivering as an excuse to get away.

  "Actually, I do feel a little cool. I might wander into the sun for a while, I think. Will you be all right here by yourself?"

  "Wait. Here comes Michael." Elizabeth had now also seen her son approaching them. "Aren't you going to stay and say hello?"

  "No, I can catch up with him later, and there's someone over there I want to see."

  "Go on, then. Run along. I'll be fine."

  "Thanks, Mum." And she quickly left just as Michael joined them. As she walked past him with only a nod of greeting she saw first surprise, then anger and finally amusement flash across his face.

 

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