by Blue, Gia
A second later, my father shuffles away from the door, probably satisfied I’m not hiding someone.
Now, I allow myself to take a breath.
God, that was close. I bite my lip so I won’t giggle. Oh my fucking God, that was so fucking close.
I ease myself deeper into the tub and take a deep, measured breath in an effort to soothe my frayed nerves.
I am one very naughty girl.
I think I deserve a spanking.
I’ll have to ask Mr. Parker about that next time I see him.
Heh.
But, with this close-call, I’ll lie here a bit.
And fifteen minutes later, just to make everyone realize I truly am taking a bath, I leave the bathroom and retreat to my bedroom for the night.
My cell phone vibrates as I snuggle beneath my blanket and I snag it from the bedside table, see I’ve received a text. It’s just a quick note from Mr. Parker. Not even a note… just a smiley face. I giggle and send him a wink back. I’m clean, sated and well-fucked. Exhausted, I drift to sleep the moment my head hits the pillow.
Some hours later, I jolt awake to the sound of someone tapping on a door. Not mine, but… the one next to me. Damn it to hell. It’s Mr. Parker’s room. The knocks are subtle, accompanied by a slurred giggle and hushed whispers.
I climb out of bed and tiptoe to my door to listen.
Unfortunately, there’s not much to hear. I’m sure it’s Mrs. Somersby quietly rapping for my secret lover’s attention. A surge of jealousy bubbles within me and I don’t think, just move. I open the door that joins our two rooms and push it open.
The room is dark, but I can spot Mr. Parker lying in bed, head propped up by three pillows, his arms crossed over his chest. He isn’t asleep just yet and the moment he sees me, he places a finger over his lips, telling me without words to be quiet.
I want to ask him what the hell is going on, but that would give away our presence and I figure he doesn’t want to get cozy with Carolyn.
With a wink, I close the door and pad toward my bad, but jump when I hear a rap on my door, and Carolyn’s slurred words sounding from behind the wood.
Crappity crap.
Half-heartedly, I open it and peer between the small crack I’ve made. Carolyn is leaning against the door frame, looking like she’s about to topple over. She can barely support her own weight. One of her bikini straps slides off her should and reveals her left breast.
She’s so drunk, she doesn’t even notice she’s a candidate for “Girls Gone Wild”. Her face is a ruddy red, eyes supported by puffy bags and her damp blonde hair is piled atop her head.
“Oh! Jessica!” She slurs. “I… I didn’t know this is your room.”
I hold my breath. Carolyn smells like a cheap, bootleg distillery. Hell, what had she gotten into? Last I saw her, she was just downing wine. Did she pack rocket fuel?
“Hi Mrs. Somersby, can I help you with something?”
“I-I was… I was…” She pauses for a moment and I figure she’s trying to remember what she was saying. “Oh! I was searching for Joe’s room. We… we haven’t chatted all evening! I thought he—” she hiccups “—might be interested in talking over a few cold ones.”
I frown. “I think maybe you’ve had enough tonight, don’t you?”
She waves her hand at me. “Oh, no, no. I’m good. I’m not drunk, just feeling nice and fuzzy.” She sighs, leans her head against the door frame.
“I bet.” And here is where the devil in me comes out to play. “You know, Mr. Parker’s room is just over there.” I tilt my head toward the adjoining door.
Carolyn’s mouth forms a perfect “O”. “Joe?” She stumbles past me and heads right on through to his room and he jumps from the bed so fast it creaks.
She begins babbling about having a few drinks together while he snags her arm and shuffles her toward his bedroom door.
Of course, the commotion the two of them cause drags my parents up from downstairs and Brandon out into the hallway and then the small space if filled with a cacophony of voices.
“Mom!” Brandon’s voice rises above the others for a minute and I steal a glance at my parents.
My mother has her hand pressed to her chest while my dad is averting his gaze as if he’ll burn in hell if he watches Carolyn a moment longer.
Brandon strides to his mother and tugs her away from Mr. Parker. “I’m sorry. My mom is drunk.”
And… Carolyn argues. “I’m not! I’m fine.”
Brandon does his best to contain his mother, but she suddenly gets it in her head that she’s a butterfly and she needs to fly, fly away. Which causes yet another bikini malfunction until she’s basically topless, breasts swinging in the breeze.
More curses:
“Jesus!” (Dad)
“Fuck!” (Mom – She’s going to hell.)
“Damn it, Mom!” (Brandon) See, I’m starting to feel bad here.
I stand immobile in the doorway, shocked by this all and I steal a glance at Mr. Parker.
He is not amused.
Hell, he’s glowering at me.
And I know I’m evil and will burn eternally, but it’s so fucking hilarious, I don’t trust myself not to burst into giggles at any moment. So, I take a step back, slam my door and bite my finger until my teeth leave a deep indentation in my flesh. I also go ahead and close the nanny door, making sure to lock it before my secret lover can sneak through and give me a piece of his mind. Oy.
Shaking with silent laughter, I climb onto the bed and seek refuge beneath the blanket.
The clock shows two AM when I finally calm myself and drift to sleep.
SATURDAY
When I finally roll out of bed and tromp down the stairs for breakfast, I find everyone in a dark mood, black clouds of awkwardness hanging over the table. Carolyn isn’t eating with us and a brief inquiry to my mother reveals she’s sleeping off her hangover.
Not long after I pop in, Brandon joins us. His face is just as grim while he cuts into his pancakes.
Guilt snakes up my spine and wraps around my skull. If I’d just hushed Carolyn and sent her quietly back to her room, Brandon wouldn’t have had to been involved in the spectacle last night. Sometimes I just don’t think things through. Fueled by jealousy, I’d let Carolyn make an ass of herself and now I feel like a total dick.
And Mr. Parker…
He sits quietly, eating his eggs and hash browns, sipping his coffee with a perfectly blank expression like always. But I know, deep inside, he’s furious with me. I can feel his could anger coming at me in waves.
Crap.
I wonder what it’ll take to make things right. Just have to figure out how I can talk with him and apologize.
My dad and Mr. Parker chat about going hunting and my mom offers to pack them lunch and a thermos of coffee. Since I’m not a fan of shooting animals for the fun of it and I don’t want to be stuck in a cabin with mom and Mrs. Drunk, I ask Brandon if he wants to join me on a hike to Cedar Point. The trail begins about four miles from the main road, and then up to the hill that overlooks a small lake.
Brandon welcomes my idea and I figure he doesn’t want to be around due to his mom’s behavior. He needs fresh air as badly as I do.
So, it’s settled. Dad and Mr. Parker will take the ATV to their usual spot while Brandon and I hike to Cedar Point. I pack two water bottles and a few snacks into my backpack as well as a book and my iPod. As soon as dad and Mr. Parker leave, Brandon and I set out for the trail.
But, an hour into our hike, I can hear Brandon huffy and puffy like a wolf trying to blow down the little piggy’s house. The fact that this fit, perfect young body has no stamina is depressing.
“Tired?” I look over my shoulder to yell to him.
Brandon wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “No, I’m good.”
“I take it you’re not a big hiking fan?”
“Yeah… I lift weights twice a week, but I rarely settle in for cardio.”
“Ah�
�” So many useless muscles.
“I guess you like hiking then?” He groans and pants behind me.
“I run four miles every morning, if I can.”
He whistles. “No wonder you have…” His gaze envelopes me, touches me from head to toe. “Such a stunning body.”
“Thanks.” I grin. “Wanna take five?”
“Nah,” he waves me off. “I’m good now.”
He doesn’t look too good, but whatever… He may be hot, but he is definitely a city boy and doesn’t look comfortable navigating the steep hill or cutting through the dense underbrush. He’s as awkward as a chubby, nerdy guy at the prom without a date. With Brandon’s family cabin not far away, I’d just figured he’d enjoy exploring the forest behind his family’s property. Apparently not.
Twenty minutes later we take five beneath a big oak tree. The leaves have already changed and those that have fallen make a tawny blanket over the tree’s gnarly roots. The temperature is in the mid-fifties and just perfect for hiking.
I hand over a bottle of Evian and open one for myself. Brandon drains his in five minutes, but I only drink a bit of mine, making sure I have more for later.
I roll to my feet and stand still for a moment, listen to the quiet chirping of the birds and the sounds of leaves brushing together… just the quiet, living hum of the forest.
I love nature. The fresh air. The ambience, serenity and tranquility.
Unfortunately, I find myself unable to relax like usual. I can’t shake the feeling we’re being watched. I glance around, peer into the shadows, but don’t see anything suspicious. There’s no wild bear waiting to pounce or a bogey man up a tree.
Hmm…
I don’t like this. Not at all.
Good thing I always carry a Taser for protection. Shit happens and I like to be prepared. Okay, my Dad likes me to be prepared and it’s something he’s drilled into my head since I was little. I dig the Taser from my pack and slide it into my pocket.
When Brando is ready to go again, we continue on the trail and get back to heading to Cedar Point. After the break, he’s looking less like death warmed over and a bit healthier. His cheeks are nice and rosy, his blond hair tousled messily. I have to admit he’s one terminally cute guy. But… there’s something a bit “off” about him and I haven’t quite figured out what it is.
The terrain turns rocky, growing more steep, and difficult to navigate the closer we get to our destination. I’m familiar with the area, but Brandon isn’t and he stumbles here and there, nearly doing a face-plant a time or two. When I hear a heavy thud behind me, I figure he’s finally done it. I keep walking. Big bad guys get snarky if a woman tries to baby them. The thing is, I don’t hear him following me. There aren’t any curses or grumbles.
I swivel around and come face to face with Mr. Parker.
My heart freezes, breath stills in my lungs. “Joe—”
With a lightning fast move he puts something over my mouth, then gathers my wrists in one hand and binds them.
I blink.
Wha—
I’m not wearing handcuffs. No smooth metal wrapped around me. No, it’s something slim, like hard plastic, that’s keeping me captive. Next, he bends down and gives my ankles the same treatment. Brandon is sprawled unconscious two feet from me and it’s not until he’s got my ankles secure that things fall into place.
He’s kidnapping me.
I snort.
Awesome.
I hadn’t realized he was into the whole tying up thing, but I’m good with it. Sorta.
A sinister smile curls the corners of his lips. “You thought last night’s stunt would go unpunished? I don’t think so, Jess.”
Unpunished? So, this is some sort of actual punishment? Kidnapping, bondage? Really?
How delicious! A shiver of arousal courses through my veins.
I shift my attention to the unconscious Brandon and Mr. Parker seems to notice.
“Don’t worry. He’s just taking a little nap.”
“How?” My voice is muffled through the tape across my mouth, but he understands.
Mr. Parker cocks his head, stares at me, and my heart rate increases. I’m at his mercy. Whatever he wants, he can take and I can’t do a damn thing to stop him.
Fuck, yeah.
But Brandon is out. Gotta remember that. Not that I think Mr. Parker would kill the guy or anything. I don’t see any little tranquilizer darts sticking out of the guy. So, if he didn’t drug him, then what?
Mr. Parker doesn’t answer my unspoken question. Nope, he whisks me from the ground and tosses me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My face smacks his back and I squirm, squeal like a helpless infant.
“Where are you taking me?” Of course, that comes out as muffled gibberish.
He spanks the back of my leg, jeans softening the blow, and I groan in response, the sting mixing with the beginnings of my arousal.
He takes me, plain and simple, like a caveman drags his claimed woman to ravish her in private at his leisure, as tender or hard and rough as he desires. And there’s not a thing I can do about it. Not that I want to or anything.
I’ve fantasized about being kidnapped by a barbarian prince and forced to satisfy his perverse needs. This is close enough. Joseph Parker may not be Conan, wielding a broadsword and sweeping women off their feet, but he is my barbarian prince.
My heartbeat quickens, every cell of my being hums with shimmering anticipation. Thinking of the things he could do to me makes my panties damp, nipples harden and ache.
He carries me off the path, along a deer trail and into the heart of the woodlands. As time passes, first a minute and then a lot more, I get dizzy from being upturned for so long. The plastic ties he’s used chafe my skin.
Twenty minutes later, he reaches a secluded clearing surrounded by tall fir trees. He lowers me to the earth and I thump down onto a worn sheet. He’s a man with a plan, that’s for sure.
The world spins as blood returns to where it’s supposed to be and little cramps bother my limbs. I squirm, but he’s tied me well.
What’s strange is that the more helpless I am, the more turned on I become. The discovery intrigues me. Am I a kinkster at heart? I like a little spanking now and again, but it seems I like being tied and helpless as well.
I lay on my back and I look at my secret lover, waiting, anticipating. Triumph lines his features and he unsheathes a large hunting knife from his boot, twirls it around menacingly.
“I’m going to remove the tape, but only if you promise not to scream.”
Scream? Like, for help? Why would I? I couldn’t promise not to make a noise when he’s fucking me with his cock, but I’m not going to yell for help.
His eyes are on me and mine on him and it finally dawns on me we’re doing the role playing thing. He’s a big, bad mercenary who’s going to ravish me and I’m his helpless captive.
My pussy is soaking now, creaming my panties, clit aching and hurting.
I nod furiously.
He leans down and rips the tape off fast. I barely feel it. Sorta. Seconds after my mouth is released, the skin around my mouth stings and throbs in a not fun way.
“Ouch,” I mouth silently.
Mr. Parker narrows his eyes. “No talking unless I give you permission. Are you going to be a good girl?”
“Yes, Joe—”
“Sir.”
“Sir,” I echo and push away the urge to grin. It’s so hard. If I wasn’t tied like some tribal dinner, I’d jump him, rip his clothes to shreds and fuck him six ways from Sunday.
“Good.” Mr. Parker loosens my jeans, yanks them past my hips. My panties soon follow, then he rolls me to my stomach, ass bared to the world and another wicked thrill jolts through me. We’ve always engaged in our forbidden deeds in secret and now he’s undressing me in the open, exposing me to one and all.
I hear a sharp inhalation and I peek over my shoulder. Rough hands caress my ass and lust burns in his eyes. A heartbeat later, he reg
ains his composure.
Our gazes collide.
“Well, Jessica, I think you’ve earned ten for your behavior last night. How very naughty of you, letting a drunken woman into my room. What were you trying to accomplish?”
Ten? Really? I mean…
“You may speak.”
“I didn’t mean to let her in, she just pushed past me.”
“Liar.” Smack.
Owie, owie, owie… it hurts, more than I’d expected. A flash of pain stings my flesh, sharp hot and unmerciful.
“Don’t lie to me, Jessica.” Smack.
Okay, oh god, it’s wrong that the pain morphs into pleasure and my pussy is aching and ready for him, my nipples hard within my bra.
“I’m sorry. I was curious.”
Smack. “Don’t lie!”
Fuck me, god. It hurts and feels so good at the same time. My ass is on fire and it’s only the third hit. I like and hate it at the same time, yet wonder if I can take more of his punishment.
“I’m not lying. I was curious.” I sniffle. “I wondered if you’d be tempted by her half-naked body.”
I look over my shoulder and watch as he stills his raised hand. “Tempted?”
“You know? Free boobs and all.”
I can see a muscle in his jaw twitch and the fourth comes harder than the other three. I yowl, ass on fire, and even my arousal can’t fight through the bite of pain.
I think I made him a little mad. And a mad Mr. Parker is not a pretty sight. “I’m sorry.” Not really. Kinda. “I wasn’t thinking.” At least that part is true.
“Who do you think I am, Jessica? You know me better than that.” Smack.
Damn it, another not fun hit. I gust out a sharp breath, the pain quickly becoming unbearable, but then a wave of pleasure roars into me and I want more. I’m a sick puppy. “I’m sorry.”
