by Maggie Ryan
“Not a chance,” he said chuckling. “I like to think our kids will be intrigued when they lift the tray out.”
Slapping his arm, she whispered, “You want to give Katy a heart attack?”
“Nope, just have her wonder exactly what stories each item will tell. Do her good to know that her parents enjoyed games until the day they died.”
The trunk sat at the end of their bed. Anyone lifting the lid would see the items that Phoebe held close to her heart. The outfits their children had worn home from the hospital were folded inside, as well as their first pairs of tiny shoes. Lace doilies tatted by her mother were wrapped in tissue paper, her grandmother’s hand-embroidered pillow cases, and other items would all tell the story of the love his wife had for her family. Beneath the tray, stories of a different nature were told. The bottom of the trunk contained what Patrick considered his toys; paddles, fur lined cuffs, and several other implements, which were brought out from their hiding place to make their stories come to life.
He tapped the small box in her hand. “On with the game.”
Opening the box, she discovered another charm, this one a small trunk that actually opened. Dangling against it was a tiny bowl and spoon. She looked up and then burst into laughter. “Oh my God, I’d forgotten.”
Patrick took the charm and attached it to her bracelet. “Even though buying the trunk meant we had to eat Ramen noodles for a month, I’d gladly do the same thing all over again. I loved you that day and, Phoebe, I love you more every passing year.”
Once the charm was securely attached, he handed her the envelope. She gave him a bright smile before opening it and removing the next clue.
Chapter Four
On a ship we sailed away, leaving behind Galveston Bay. Food was plenty, the choices sweet until we decided to sample this treat. Together we stood, daring to be brave – only to discover our error was grave.
Phoebe swore she could feel the floor beneath her feet undulate like the deck of the cruise ship. She’d been so excited when he booked the trip for their tenth anniversary and explained that the kids would be staying with their grandparents. It was a great plan, except they both seemed to have forgotten she’d suffered motion sickness during her childhood. She shuddered, remembering how she’d turned green that first night when they sat down to eat. Leaving Pat to dine with their tablemates, she’d taken the advice of their waiter as well as the huge bowl of saltine crackers he provided back to their cabin. Those, along with the medication Patrick brought her, had settled her stomach.
“I’d think you were referring to saltines except for the fact the clue refers to the two of us.” Seeing his grin, she tucked the card away, dropped it into her basket and nodded. “I already know where to go,” she said with a grin of her own. “Sorry, honey, no penalty for you to accept payment on.”
Patrick took her hand and then picked up the antique hairbrush. “Don’t be so sure,” he quipped as he led her to the counter. “Grant might feel guilty buying such an item for Lainie, but I think this would be a perfect addition to our trunk.”
Though she felt her face heat as Quincy rang up the sale, Phoebe felt her stomach flutter and her loins moisten just imagining how the broad back of the brush would feel landing against her nether cheeks. Patrick tucked the brush into the basket, giving her backside a gentle pat.
Grant wished them a good hunt as he waited for Quincy to gift wrap his selection. He’d chosen a pair of earrings and a matching necklace, with Quincy assuring him that he’d see Lainie’s eyes light up as much as Phoebe’s were currently doing.
“I’m surprised we ever got up the courage to ever try it again,” Patrick said, as they walked to their next destination. “I remember standing there watching you try to decide if it would be okay to spit it out onto the deck.”
“I only swallowed because you did.” Phoebe’s blush returned as he reached out to stroke his finger across her lips.
“You do that so well,” he said, bending down to kiss her lightly. “Swallow, I mean.”
Any thoughts of the awful ‘treat’ were replaced by the memories of being on her knees before this man, taking him inside her mouth and bringing him pleasure. Forcing herself to remember they were out in public, she looked up at him. “How many more clues are there?”
“In a hurry to end the game?” he asked, putting his arm around her and drawing her closer. “Anticipation is also a game.”
Growling a bit, she pulled back and quickened her pace, though he easily kept up with her. Phoebe wasn’t anxious to end the game, but she was becoming more and more anxious to play another. Her nipples were pebbled and rubbing against her bra – not from the cold but from the looks, the touches and the innuendoes her husband kept tossing about. Standing by the door, she politely waited until he pushed it open and ushered her inside The Ginger Paddle.
“Hi!” Laney greeted them from behind the counter. “What can I get for you today?”
Though the sushi they had eaten on the cruise ship had made them very hesitant to ever try it again, they’d learned that it hadn’t been the shrimp and rice roll that made their mouths burn and their eyes water – it had been the thick green paste they’d smeared all across the bite. Both had thought it was avocado, only to discover it was wasabi, a very strong plant that was also called Japanese horseradish.
Phoebe giggled as she read the choices. It still amazed her that instead of normal names, the Ginger Paddle’s items were blatantly explicit and very fun to order. Looking over at Patrick, she grinned. “I’d like an Orgasm Roll, please.”
“I’ll take the HoH Roll, Laney,” Patrick said, dropping his hand to rest against his wife’s ass. “Oh, and wrap up a Naughty Girl Roll to go.”
“Hey, you can’t do that!” Phoebe protested. “I think you mean a Fantasy Roll; I’ve been very good today.”
“Better make that two,” Patrick said and grinned. “Seems like my wife forgets exactly who decides what constitutes naughtiness.”
Laney laughed and began to pull together the ingredients needed. Patrick guided Phoebe to a table, pulled out her chair and helped her remove her coat before she took her seat. “Too bad they don’t have a Bossy Man Roll,” she teased.
“No need, they’d never sell,” Laney said, as she brought their order over. “Remember, our men aren’t ‘bossy’, they are ‘protective’.” The three laughed as she placed their glasses of water on the table, as well as the red envelope. Turning, she said she’d have their to-go order ready by the time they were done. “No wasabi, right?”
“Right!” they both chorused rather loudly. When Patrick leaned forward, holding a bite of his HoH Roll between his fingers, she opened her mouth. It was delicious, and his grin had her panties growing even damper. God, this man could still turn her on with just that look in his eyes.
“How’s your Orgasm?”
Phoebe grinned and ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. “Hmm, it’s the best I’ve ever had.”
“Hey, Laney, add a Watch Your Mouth Roll, please.”
Giggling, Phoebe locked her eyes onto his, licking her lip again. “Are you saying you like to watch my mouth?” She loved the way his eyes changed, their hazel color going dark as desire filled them. It was truly amazing to her that he still found her attractive after decades of being together.
“I love watching every single inch of you,” he said. “I’m going to love touching every inch of you as well. Especially that delightfully rounded derriere you’re sitting on.”
A flash of heat surged through her as she picked up her roll and broke off a piece. Extending her fingers to him, the flames licked along her body as he took the bite inside his mouth, along with her fingers, suckling gently before releasing them.
“While I admit that’s great, I can think of another taste I much prefer.”
“You are incorrigible,” she said as she popped the last bite into her mouth. “Good thing we're in public. Corbin’s Bend might not blink an eye seeing a public sp
anking, but I’m pretty sure Brent might draw the line at public sex.”
Not missing a beat, Patrick teased her right back. “Good thing the only bottom in danger of paying a price for endangering our great community’s rules is the one in your chair.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out another white box.
Inside was a charm of a cruise ship, a small dolphin dangling against it. Phoebe smiled at the memory of swimming with the dolphins in Cozumel. Holding out her wrist so that he could attach the charm, she remembered the exhilarating feeling of holding onto the dolphin’s dorsal fin as he pulled her very quickly through the water. There was a framed photo of her on their mantel, a huge smile on her face as she planted a kiss on the dolphin’s nose, thanking him for the ride.
Twisting her wrist, she listened to the charms jingle. If he’d given her a five carat diamond ring she would not have been as happy. Each one of the charms meant the world to her, as all depicted a precious memory.
Opening the envelope, she pulled out the card.
A gift of nature can cause despair, but not when God’s rain turns to snow in the air. A treat he did offer unexpectedly that day so that a man and his family would stop and play. A partner beside her who offered his hand helped her to create her own little man.
Her first thought was of Sam, their son. She’d called him ‘her little man’ until he’d grown old enough to find it a bit embarrassing. Looking across the table, she felt her mind go blank, and when Patrick grinned and looked at his watch, she felt a moment of panic. Okay, she could do this – all she needed to do was think of every time they had played outside in the snow.
“Exactly what sort of penalty are we talking about?” she asked, his slow smile causing her to squirm a bit on her chair.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Patrick said.
“Well, there aren't any hotels in the Bend, so that leaves out the time we had the snowball fight in the parking lot. Though there are hills, I’m not thinking you mean for us to go sliding down them, especially not considering how you flew off that toboggan and swore you were too old to be sledding.” He didn’t nod or shake his head, giving her no clue as to what path might be the one she should continue considering.
Leaning back, he smiled. “Time’s up.”
“You aren’t serious, are you?” she asked, glancing around to see several of their neighbors either eating or placing orders to go.
“As a heart attack,” he countered, standing and offering her his hand. “But I prefer to exact the penalty in, shall we say, a more open space.”
Phoebe stood and allowed him to help her back into her coat. He tied the belt and bent forward to whisper in her ear. “I think the warmth might be welcome after we play in the park.”
The word ‘park’ gave her the answer. “Little man!” she shouted, and then giggled when several customers turned to look at them. “I meant a snow man,” she explained, knowing no one would consider Pat a little man. He was six feet, three inches tall, and though no longer in his twenties, his physique was still that of a very attractive man.
Of course – the clue referred to the time they’d gone back to Michigan to visit his parents. Accustomed to living in Texas, the kids had been thrilled to wake up and discover the ground covered in several feet of snow. Patrick had loaded them into the car and driven to the park where he’d spent a great deal of time in his youth. They’d jumped out of the car, had a snowball fight and then learned how to properly roll the huge balls required to make the perfect snowman.
Going to the counter to pay, Phoebe grinned. “You’d better add a That’s Gonna Sting, please.”
Chapter Five
It had started to snow again, soft flakes drifting down to cling to their coats. Patrick thought it was perfect as they walked down Spanking Loop. He remembered Phoebe trying to explain to Katy that it was just a silly name when their daughter had been flabbergasted that the community’s openness towards what she called spankos was so prominently announced. They passed the Dome that housed the community center, and they kept walking until they reached one of the more secluded parks scattered around the neighborhood. He supposed it couldn't truly be considered a park, as it was devoid of any slides or swings that would attract children. It did serve as the trailhead of one of the many hiking trails that meandered through the hills and woods. He was very pleased to see that no one had even walked across the pristine snow.
“Penalty or play?” he asked, after they’d reached the beginning of the trail where he’d left several items beneath a large tree.
“When did you turn into an exhibitionist?” she asked, her eyes darting around as if expecting to see every resident lined up to watch her pay her penalty.
“Trust me, babe,” Patrick said, cupping her chin and turning her face up to his. “I’d never try to embarrass you but I’m pretty positive there isn’t anyone out here but us. If you’d prefer, we can go home and come back, or even take this stuff with us.”
Phoebe looked down to see a scarf, an old pair of mittens, a battered cowboy hat, coal and a carrot. He hadn’t just brought her out here to make any old snowman. He’d provided the same sort of items they’d used that day to make a Texas snowman in a snow covered Michigan park.
“I do trust you and you did promise me a bit of warmth,” she said. “Penalty and then play.”
Patrick pulled her close and gave her a hug before taking her basket and setting it down. Taking her hand, he led her a bit further into the trees until he decided that it would take a very determined hiker to find them. Brushing the thin layer of snow off a log, he took a seat and pulled her between his knees.
“Don’t you think it might be a bit difficult to have to explain to Dr. Devon why I have frostbite on my ass?” she asked, as he slid his hands underneath her coat and unsnapped her jeans.
“I’m sure that Marcus wouldn’t bat an eye.” He grinned as he tugged her zipper down. Drawing the denim down just below her bottom, he guided her across his knee. Lifting her coat up onto her back, he chuckled. “Not the sexy panties I thought I’d find,” he said, as he ran his hand across her backside. “Perhaps you were preparing yourself for just this inevitability?”
His wife squirmed a bit as she turned her head to look up at him. “You do know it is the middle of February? It’s snowing, for God’s sake!”
“Ah, yes, you gotta love His timing,” he agreed, hearing her groan at his reference to his clue. He gave her backside a pat. “Lift up.” He was very pleased when she instantly obeyed. It took more effort to pull down the tight fitting thermals, but he managed. Underneath she was wearing a pair of light blue panties. Since they were still somewhat in public, he would not bare her completely. He ran his hands across the silk before lifting his palm and bringing it down.
“Ow!” she yelped.
Patrick grinned. He knew it was more the sound of the swat than the force of the stroke. When she wiggled, he didn’t hesitate to give her other cheek a matching swat. The crisp slaps were muffled a bit due to the fabric covering her, but still rang out into the air. It took a dozen before she was squirming a bit more frantically as he gave her the heat he’d promised. Pausing, he ran a finger between her thighs and into the leg opening of her underwear. No question about it, she might have protested about having to pay a penalty, but her body was definitely enjoying the price he was exacting. She pushed back against his hand, her soft moans replacing her earlier soft gasps. He continued his play until he felt her tightening around his fingers.
“Penalties do not include such pleasure,” he said, removing his fingers and swatting her butt. Her groan of protest turned into several short yelps as he warmed her again, another dozen swats landing all across her backside. Patting her softly he asked, “Warm?”
“I’m burning somewhere, that’s for sure,” she said as she wiggled her bottom again. “Perhaps you need to make sure I won’t set the woods on fire.”
Grinning, he reached down, and listened to her shriek a
s she clambered off his lap after he applied a handful of snow to the backs of her thighs. “You’re a sadist!” she accused as she brushed the snow off and yanked her thermals and jeans up.
“It was that or call Crystal or Brock to come put out your fire,” he teased, referring to the fire-fighting partners that served the community. He drew her to him and kissed her before zipping and snapping her jeans shut. He applied another swat to her rear. “Now that you’re warm enough, on with the game.”
Before they did so, several snowballs were exchanged, her successful hoot in nailing him at the back of his neck quickly turning into a shriek as she turned to run away. Catching her was easy, and she shrieked again when he pinned her on her back and proceeded to run his hands up beneath her clothing.
“Uncle,” she called, as his cold fingertips slipped beneath her bra. “I’m sorry!”
Patrick bent to kiss her, their breaths vaporizing in the cold air and yet, at that moment, neither cared that they were lying in the snow. After he stood, but before he helped her to her feet, she moved her arms and legs, making a snow angel. Pulling her up, he kissed her again. “Okay, I’ve got my angel, let’s make you a little man.”
They rolled three balls, each one a bit larger than the previous one. Patrick carefully set them on top of each other to make a snowman that stood a few inches shorter than Phoebe. She smiled as she set the two pieces of coal into the snow and then stuck the carrot in place. He handed her the scarf which she wrapped around her little man’s neck. When he handed her the first switch, she giggled.
“Now these switches are okay,” she said, working a mitten over the forked end of the switch. After preparing the other switch, she stuck the bare ends into the snowman’s side as his arms. Handing her the cowboy hat that he’d brought from home, he told her to look inside. She pulled out another envelope before setting the cap at a rakish angle on the snowman's head.
“Tex, welcome to Colorado,” she said, stepping back to admire their creation.
