Mama then gave Mason a look that clearly doubted there was one and laying the spoon on the work table, left mumbling something in Spanish that Rebecca was glad she couldn’t understand. She suspected Mason did though as he nodded his head in agreement.
Six foot plus of angry male leaned against the table, legs crossed and calmly turning the spoon over and over in his large hands as though examining it for flaws. Rebecca stood almost frozen and when his rich voice growled. “I’m waiting”, she jumped, her throat so dry and her face so flaming she almost felt as though she had eaten the chili.
Deciding the best defense was a good offense she proceeded to come up with a reasonable plan. Unconsciously twisting the beautiful emerald ring he’d given her for her eighteenth birthday she started inching around to the opposite side of the table.
“I don’t know how you could bring her here,” she blurted out, “Especially after all the lectures about suitable dates and being careful of my reputation. She doesn’t have one left,” she continued. Warming to her subject now she began to advance on him, remembering her previous anger. Just why she was so angry about his choice of women she didn’t examine too closely. Kathy had been a few years ahead of her in school and she’d always ‘gotten around’. Everybody knew what she was and here she was with her Mason.
“Are you so desperate that you have to pick someone like…?”
“That will be just about enough,” he shot back unfolding his length from the relaxed position he’d assumed. Slamming the spoon down on the table with enough force to crack it he reached her side in three long strides.
“Whom I choose to date and where I go on that date is none of your damn business.”
“Then where do you get off telling me exactly the same thing?’ she demanded, almost stomping her foot in frustration. Her shining hair floated around her like a living thing and for a moment Mason lost his train of thought.
Tearing his eyes away from that golden glory he tried to marshal his thoughts into some type of reasonable response. Truthfully he didn’t have anything against young Jacob Brenner. He’d always seemed a well-mannered boy, but last night when he caught them clenched in an embrace on her front porch he’d been overcome with jealousy. It appalled him to realize he’d been ready to punch out a mere boy and he’d taken it out on Rebecca, accusing her of being too free with her affections. The truth was that he’d asked Kathy out and deliberately taken her there on a night when Rebecca was working to prove to himself that the attraction he felt was only in his imagination, but now standing next to her with her lovely face flushed with anger, her feminine little body only inches from him he was damn close to saying the hell with it and pulling her into his arms, showing her just why she couldn’t date anyone, for he knew in his mind that no one would ever be acceptable as far as he was concerned. Pull yourself together man he thought. Basically you’re the only family she has; she thinks you’re like a big brother. The last thing she needs now is you grabbing her and scaring the daylights out of her.
Rebecca stood quietly, watching the play of emotions across his handsome face. Feeling the unexplainable pull between them, but not understanding the cause, she was almost disappointed when he backed off and turned to leave the room.
“Your right honey”, he said softly. “You too are free to date anyone you choose. Just be careful you don’t make the mistake of falling in love with the wrong man.” Laying his big hand gently on her cheek he smiled sadly. “You don’t need any more unhappiness in your life.”
Confused, she nestled her cheek into his large warm palm, feeling the loss when he dropped his hand and walked out of the room. Not understanding how what had seemed so terribly funny could now make her feel like crying.
Rebecca found herself sitting in the car in her driveway. Maybe going to Mama Rosa’s tonight wasn’t such a good idea. Looking at her watch she snapped out of her reverie and realized she’d have to hurry if she was going to be ready by seven.
Chapter Two
Rebecca was just about ready when the doorbell rang. Spritzing on her favorite perfume she twirled once in front of her mirror, making sure she looked as good as possible. She loved the way the short, black skirt flared and fluttered with her movements. Black stockings and black four inch heels helped her look taller and that was always a good thing as far as she was concerned. The ivory silk blouse felt wonderful against her skin and shimmered in the light. A gold metal belt accentuated her slim waist. Tendrils of soft blond curls artfully escaped her upswept hair at her temples and nape. Green eye shadow, pink lip gloss, and a soft blush gave a glow to her delicate features and brought out the green in her eyes. A gold locket hung low on her chest drawing attention to the low cut blouse and hinted at the curves below. Delicate diamond studs sparkled on her ears. Pleased with her efforts she grabbed her short black jacket and hurried to the front door. Last night Mason had finally treated her like a woman and she wasn’t about to let him forget it.
Mason’s heart skipped several beats when she opened the door. Standing there in his leather boots, faded jeans and blue checked flannel shirt he realized they had gotten their wires crossed.
Rebecca couldn’t help being effected by the sheer masculine force of the man. Long legs encased in tight fitting jeans, still damp hair and broad shoulders that blocked the sky. Even his aftershave was intoxicating. Towering almost a foot over her despite her heels he took her breath away. Reaching quickly for her hand Mason started toward the blue pickup truck at the curb.
“Let’s go,” he said and she closed the door and followed.
Halfway to the truck the difference in their clothes suddenly registered and digging in her heels she managed to bring him to a stop.
“Look, maybe I misunderstood, but I thought you were taking me out to dinner?”
Grinning down at her stubborn expression he slid an arm around her waist and continued propelling her on, opening the truck door and just about lifting her onto the seat. Realizing this had the makings of a king-sized argument; Mason quickly buckled her seat belt and hurried to the driver’s side, buckling his belt into place before answering.
“Actually, I said I was taking you to get something to eat,” he finally responded, starting the powerful engine and pulling away from the curb, his eyes twinkling and wonderful little lines appearing at the corners. “I haven’t been shopping in some time but I still think you’re a little overdressed,” he continued, openly showing his amusement now.
“Shopping?’ she asked he mouth dropping open incredulously. “Grocery shopping?”
“That’s what I had in mind.”
“Turn this truck around and take me home right now,” she demanded hotly. “I can do my own grocery shopping and I think it was damn sneaky of you not to make it clear what you meant.”
“Not a chance,” he responded not in the least intimated by her temper.
Crossing her arms over her chest to glare at him, Rebecca continued. “I don’t need your help. I was going shopping tomorrow anyway so just butt out and take me home.”
Still being incredibly reasonable he answered. “If you’re shopping tomorrow anyway it won’t matter if it gets done tonight. You’ll have time to get some rest or here’s an idea, maybe you could actually open your Economics book and since you assumed we were going out you obviously have no other plans for the evening. End of discussion.”
‘It is not the ‘end of discussion’. We’ll look like a couple of fools.”
“Since when have you been averse to making a fool out of yourself, and me?” he laughed back at her as he pulled into the parking lot of the Super Duper.
Slouching in her seat she began to see just how serious he was as he got out of the truck and came around to her side. Opening the door he waited to help her out.
“I will not go into that store wearing this short skirt, and these spike heels,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“Yes you will”, he stated, completely unconcerned with her temper. ‘You can wa
lk in under your own power, or you can be carried in over my shoulder, although I’m not sure the bagboys could handle it. That skirt is pretty short.” Reaching in he slid one arm under her legs, the other behind her back and very efficiently removed her from the truck, setting her gently on her feet. He closed the door and hit the button for lock and alarm, waiting for her to make up her mind.
For a moment she contemplated giving him a good kick in the shin but as if he read the thought in her eyes he grasped her and a proceeded to steer her across the parking lot.
“You, Mason Kord,” she told him, plastering a tight lipped smile on her face, “Are an overbearing son of a bit…”
“Ah, Ah, Ah,” he said grinning. ‘Watch out or we’ll make the soap aisle our first stop.”
“In your dreams,” she shot back and stomped into the store, totaling ignoring the people who stared in amusement at the tall dark man in cowboy boots and the tiny blonde who looked like she just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.
A silent war raged through the aisles of the Super Duper that night. She pushed the cart and dropped in Twinkies, cheese twists and soda, daring him with her eyes to say one thing, just one thing. He put in fresh fruits and vegetables. She chose frozen pizza. He lean chicken and fish fillets. Up and down the aisles they went, grabbing the strangest combination of health and junk food the cashier had ever seen. They had a short lived battle in the last aisle when she nonchalantly dropped in a carton of cigarettes and he deftly removed it placing it on the top shelf beyond her reach. Knuckles white as her hands gripped the cart, ready to turn and run him over, she was caught off guard as his hands closed over hers from behind and he pulled the cart close to her, effectively pinning her between the cart and his strong body. She could feel the heat of him and as he bent to whisper in her ear, her legs went suddenly weak.
‘Keep it up and I swear to God I’ll put you in this cart, just like that little girl,” he growled not quite quietly enough.
Lifting her head, she smiled weakly at the father and daughter coming down the aisle from the other direction. “Is that lady in trouble Daddy?’ the toddler innocently asked her father?
“Sounds like it doesn’t it honey”, he answered, and his eyes smiling as he nodded to Mason and Rebecca as he passed.
“All right,” she hissed at him proceeding on and at the last moment snatching a six pack of beer.
“Thank you,” Mason smiled cockily as he removed it from the cart,” but I prefer Bud,” and replaced it with his choice.
Ready to explode she turned and almost shouted. “I don’t give a …,” but seeing him nod to someone behind her she found herself swallowing her words and also nodding to the elderly couple.
She made him pay, smiling helplessly as she lifted her empty hands, no purse. Leading the way out of the store she left him to handle the heavy bags. The added height from her heels enabled her to climb into the truck on her own while he loaded the bags in the back.
“There, that wasn’t so bad,” he remarked when he finished and climbed in beside her. Rebecca didn’t answer, just raised one eyebrow and kept her mouth shut. Mason started the truck and headed out of the parking lot, figuring even if she was mad, she’d get over it soon enough. If not, he’d help her.
As soon as they came to a stop in front of her house she bolted from the truck and stalked away without him. Not even offering to carry a bag she dug her extra key out of the planter and let herself in. Proceeding to her bedroom she stripped off her good clothes and jewelry and threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Taking her hair down she gave it a quick brushing then wiped off most of her makeup. She could hear Mason in the kitchen, obviously not trusting her to even put the things away, and he was humming. That sound was the last straw. As far as she was concerned he could take his cheerful self right the hell out of here and she intended to tell him so.
Entering the kitchen she was momentarily caught off guard. He looked so out of place in her tiny kitchen, putting things away, lining up canned goods neatly in the cupboard, discarding anything he thought questionable, that she smiled despite herself.
‘Well, aren’t you just the little homemaker,” she taunted, leaning against the doorway, bare feet crossed with absolutely no desire to help him.
“Did you want to keep this,” he inquired innocently, dangling a hairy green object in a little baggie at her. “It’s been here so long I thought you might have some sort of strange attachment to it.”
“That’s it,” she yelled, storming across to the table and grabbing a large grapefruit. “One more word and you and this grapefruit are going to become very well acquainted,” she continued pointedly, brandishing it like a weapon.
He laughed aloud at that, the rich sound rumbling from deep in his chest. She looked absolutely adorable standing there in her jeans, hair pulled back into a pony tail, threatening him with a grapefruit. Adorable until it sailed past his right ear and smacked into the cupboard.
“Hey watch that,” he yelled. “Boy some people just can’t see the humor in a situation,” he grumbled to no one in particular and returned to storing away the food.
Waiting patiently until he had the kitchen neat as a pin, after all this was his idea, she then took his hand and led him to the front door.
“Good night Mason.”
“Sorry sweetie,” he replied. “The evening isn’t quite over yet. We need to get a couple of things straight between us.”
“I’ll give you straight. You can go straight to he…”
Rebecca was stunned when she found herself over Mason’s shoulder for the second time in one night. Her breath left her in a huff as he carried her into the dining room and kicked a chair away from the table with one big boot. Sitting down he swiftly and effortlessly had her over his lap before she could utter a word. The pattern of the Oriental rug was suddenly up close and personal and her feet didn’t even come close to touching the floor at her other end.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she screeched, afraid she knew exactly what he was doing. Struggling was useless but it didn’t stop her from trying.
“You and I are going to have a little discussion. Well actually I’m going to be the one talking and you’re going to be the one listening,” he calmly informed her, resting his huge hand on her butt.
Rebecca froze and all struggles ceased as a shiver went through her. Turning her head to look at him was difficult in her undignified position, and she tried to blow her hair out of her eyes.
“Have you lost your mind?” she demanded more shocked than enraged.
“Quite possibly,” he replied calmly. “I have heard of perfectly normal people snapping after long periods of being pushed past their limits and baby I passed that point a long time ago.”
Rebecca sighed. Okay he was obviously determined to spank her. Seriously, how bad could it be? Children had been spanked for centuries and wives too probably. She personally had never been subjected to it but, she wasn’t getting away and it didn’t appear she could talk her way out of it so, whatever.
“Well then have at it big man,” she foolishly taunted, relaxing across his lap and picking out the intricate pattern on the rug.
Mason grinned and brought his big hand down hard covering both cheeks with one tremendous swat. Man I’m gonna love this he thought.
Rebecca’s scream was probably heard three doors away.
Oh my God she thought, trying to catch her breath. It can be bad, very, very bad, worse than the worst sunburn she’d ever had. Worse than that summer she’d stepped on a ground hive. Actually just like that except the bees were stinging her ass.
“Mason please stop,” she begged scrambling wildly to get away, her hands and feet like matching windmills.
“Sweetie, we’re just getting started,” he informed her with another blazing swat.
“Yeowww. No, No really,” she panted beginning to panic. “You… you talk and I’ll listen, I swear.”
“Exactly, and that’s the fi
rst thing we’re gonna talk about. Swat! Your language is atrocious and it stops right now.”
“Owww! Yes a… language, yup no swearing. Got it! Please stop now Mason, you’re killing me.”
“You will start shopping on a regular basis.” Swat. “And you will eat real food for at least one meal a day.” Swat.
“Noooo,” she moaned in so much pain she could hardly believe it. “I mean yes, yes, shopping, I love shopping, and food, love to eat. Oh my God Mason,” she pleaded hanging her head in defeat. “Whatever you say, just please stop.”
“You will study.” Swat
“You will drive responsibly.” Swat. Swat.
“You will not throw fruit or any other objects at someone more than twice your size and never at me. Do I make myself clear?” Swat.
“Yes, yes Mason. Very clear, crystal clear,” she struggled to get out between squeals and moans.
Rebecca would have agreed to just about anything at this point. All she wanted was for him to stop so she could raid the freezer for frozen anything to put on her butt.
“All right then” he informed her as she breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Let’s finish this up.”
“What! We are finished”, she screeched. “You issued orders and I caved, we’re done.”
Mason actually had the gall to laugh. “Oh my poor baby, you really have no idea do you?” And with that Mason began to truly spank her. Over and over, up and down until he had covered her entire backside several times. The heat coming off her cheeks was incredible and he wished he had taken down her jeans and panties so he could better judge their condition.
Rebecca screamed and cried fit to shake the house down. When he angled the last ten smacks to catch the underside of her cheeks she gave up and sobbed over his lap unable to fight any longer.
Mason rested his hand on her bottom but didn’t rub away any of his work. He wanted her to feel this. Finally after what seemed to Rebecca like hours he helped her up and settled her on his lap, softly rubbing her back and offering what comfort he could.
Changing Her Mind Page 2
