by Maren Smith
I nodded, pulling my legs up and folding them beside me. “We should hear back from SunFilm and our lawyers. It’s the biggest deal I’ve ever attempted,” I admitted.
“Hey, don’t look like that. You can do this. And win or lose, I’m thankful for SunFilm.”
“You are?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Damn right I am. Without them and that meeting, you might not have been driving like a bat out of Hell and your car might have gotten you to work just fine. Then I never would have met you.” He stretched his hand out and I took it, intertwining my fingers with his.
I dropped my eyes, swirling my wine around in my cup for a moment. “I wish I didn’t ever have to worry about stuff like that again. I guess I just feel like… I mean, I’m worried that once we go back to work… “
“That this weekend will feel like a crazy, intense dream?”
“Exactly,” I exhaled, relieved that he understood. “I don’t want that.”
“Me either, but there will be other weekends. And remember, we have a date for Valentine’s Day.”
“Like I would forget that,” I sighed, leaning against him and inhaling the comforting, woodsy scent of his cologne.
“There are other things I want you to remember, too.”
“Like what?” I leaned back to look at him.
Brandon ran a hand through his short black hair. “I’m probably worrying over nothing, just… I know your job is demanding and very stressful. I just don’t want you to get back to work and fall back into bad habits. I don’t want you to forget how well we fit together.”
My heart constricted at the worry in his deep blue eyes. I was so touched that he worried about losing me. “That,” I assured him, running my hands through his hair and then twining them around his neck, “will never happen.”
“Promise you’ll be nice.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes, but at his stern “ahem” I quickly promised that I would and leaned back into his embrace, intending to enjoy every last minute together.
Chapter 8
The next morning, he sent me off with a hot cup of coffee—we exchanged the smile of two people who have an inside joke—and a kiss. “Be good,” Brandon said, patting my bottom meaningfully.
“I will,” I insisted, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “Promise.”
It was a promise I fully intended to keep. It was almost strange getting into morning rush traffic and not feeling the need to honk my horn or roll down my window to yell out a few choice words. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t in a hurry.
When I arrived at Dusty Records, everyone I passed was in a flurry of activity. I watched them with new eyes, wondering why I’d never noticed how washed-out and strained my employees seemed. It was like entering a new world, where even the pale cream walls and florescent lights felt foreign. I’d never noticed how stifling the air felt, either. Funny what a change of scenery could do for a person.
I was quickly bombarded by phone calls and messages since I hadn’t replaced my Blackberry yet—which I promptly sent Jack out to do for me. Like it or not, I eventually fell back into the swing of things because I didn’t have a choice; I couldn’t get so much as five minutes to myself. Every time I let my mind wander to the weekend I’d shared with Brandon, there was another knock at the door, and it was always urgent. A document for me to look over, a phone call I just had to take. On and on it went.
And I tried to keep my promise to Brandon in the forefront of my mind, but old habits die hard—and in some cases, not at all. I strongly suspected I might be one of those cases. Still, I did my best and was careful to keep my tone neutral and my voice low. I got more than one odd look.
Even when Jack returned with the wrong phone, I managed to choke back the rebuke that came so easily to my tongue. I sent him back out with nothing more than a, “Call me if you have any questions.”
“Karen? Knock-knock.”
I looked up and saw Mark leaning in my doorway, a grim look on his face. “Problem?” I asked, getting right down to the point. It was amazing how much my pulse had picked up in the last hour I’d been here.
“Have you spoken to Mr. Givens yet?”
“Not this morning,” I replied, furrowing my brow and trying to remember if I’d gotten a message from the owner of SunFilm.
“You better call him quick, Kar. Things are not looking good here. I just heard…”
I felt my heart drop with each and every word and managed to overlook that he’d decided to give me a nickname like we were buddies. “I need you to call legal and get right on that,” I told him, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“I’ll try, but they’re not taking our calls.”
“What? Why wouldn’t they take our calls?”
“You tell me,” he replied, in a voice that told me he already knew the answer.
My head was pounding and they kept dropping in, one after another with their dire warnings and unsolicited advice. I was on hold, waiting to speak to Givens when Jack walked in. I dismissed him with a wave of my hand and had turned away until I saw the box he’d put on my desk. He’d gotten the wrong phone—again. “Jack!” I snapped, feeling myself close to my boiling point.
“Yes, Ms. Donahue?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, glowering. “Do you need to go to training to learn how to listen?”
“I’m so—”
“I don’t want your apologies!” I said shrilly. “I want you to do your job right, for a change.” I picked up the box and hurled it at him. “Get out and get it done!”
Only seconds later Givens answered the phone and was both coolly distant and strangely ambiguous. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that only grew after I hung up the phone. This day couldn’t get any worse, I groaned inwardly, putting my head in my hands.
As if on cue there was a knock on the door and whoever was on the other end of it informed me that Brandon had stopped by to take me to lunch. Only then did I realize that I’d broken my promise. Perfect. Just perfect. I could almost hear the devil on my shoulder laughing.
***
I should have been happy to see him, but instead I walked toward him with slow, measured steps like a criminal going to execution. To make matters worse, I could see it wasn’t lost on him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” I said, with none of the venom I’d spoken with only minutes before.
“Don’t look so thrilled,” he said mildly. I tried to smile, but it fell flat. “I’m going to take you to lunch.” He bent close to my ear and said just for me to hear, “and then you can tell me what’s going on with you.”
I followed him to his car willingly enough, but once inside all I could think about was what I was going to say. I could lie—the devil sitting with me liked that idea. I could lie, but I knew he’d find out. I didn’t know how he did it, but he seemed to read me easier than a large print Bible. Not only that, but I knew I couldn’t hold out on him. One look and I’d melt into a puddle at his feet, betraying myself the moment he told me to.
Pathetic, I scolded myself, but my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t want him to be upset with me. I glanced furtively at him, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the road. Like the gentleman he was, he was giving me space—probably because when he’d tried to talk about my day I’d given him vague, monosyllabic answers.
All too soon we were pulling in front of his house. What had been a safe haven for me just hours ago now was the last place I wanted to be. Scratch that, the last place I wanted to be was over Brandon’s hard thigh, my bottom bared to his punishing, paddle-like hand.
“Karen?”
I turned to him and saw that he’d been watching me. “Hmm?”
“I asked if you’re coming.”
I nodded and took my seat belt off, because really, what other choice did I have? It wasn’t like I could run—I’d already considered it, but I wouldn’t make it very far in my heels and chances were it would just make things worse for my
poor, innocent bottom. Said bottom was already tingling anxiously as I followed him into the house.
Once inside, he wasted no more time on small talk or niceties and pointed me toward the couch. “I can’t be gone long,” I protested as I sat down.
“I think they’ll survive without you for a half hour.” His tone left little doubt about how he’d feel about my arguing the point. “What happened?”
“What do you mean what happened?” I asked, widening my eyes innocently. “What makes you think something happened?”
“Something had to, or you wouldn’t be so…distant with me.”
Is that what bothered him? Not that I might have disobeyed him, but that I was acting different? “It’s not that,” I hurried to assure him. “I promise. I’m just having a hard day. You know how hard it is to come back after vacation.” I tried to smile, but he wasn’t buying it.
His eyes still hadn’t left my face and I could see the wheels turning. “Did something else happen?”
“Like what?” I stalled.
“Let’s not play games, Karen. What’s going on?”
I blinked first, breaking eye contact and looking away. “Nothing, just…I kind of lost my temper.”
“Kind of?” he echoed. “Tell me about it.”
“My assistant is such a moron!” I burst out. “I’m having the worst, most craptastic day and this idiot can’t even follow simple directions!”
“And so you what?”
“I yelled at him, okay?” I jutted my chin in the air defiantly. “He deserved it. He never listens to me, he’s always screwing things up and I’ve been paying his mortgage for years!”
“So why don’t you fire him?”
I scoffed at the suggestion. Who was he to tell me not to yell and then suggest actually taking someone’s job? If I had the choice, I’d much rather be yelled at. Anyone would feel the same.
“I asked you a question, Karen.”
Part of me wanted to surrender to the firmness in his voice, but I resisted. I wasn’t going to give in, not this time. “You don’t understand, Brandon, you couldn’t. You don’t know what it’s like to live with this kind of pressure day in and day out.”
He eyed me thoughtfully for several long minutes. The longer he stared without speaking, the more I squirmed. “You’re right.”
I was immediately taken aback. I hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “I am? I—”
He held up a hand and I fell silent. “I don’t understand what you go through with your job, I don’t know what it’s like. What I do know is that you are capable of doing better. Not only that, but you also promised you would.”
I swallowed hard. There it was, the truth that I’d been hiding from and he’d summed it up in the first five minutes. I’d broken a promise and in doing so, I’d disobeyed him—not to mention publicly humiliating my assistant. Jack wasn’t really incompetent, I knew that—I was just too demanding. The real reason I didn’t fire him was because I was doubtful another assistant would put up with the deplorable treatment I’d reserved for Jack. Even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong, I couldn’t help it; He was my proverbial whipping boy. Too bad he wasn’t here now, because if the hard set of Brandon’s jaw was anything to go by, I wasn’t going to like where things were headed.
“You broke a promise, Karen. You specifically did the one thing I asked you not to do.”
Why did it hurt so much more hearing him say it? I wasn’t sure, but I was wincing all the same, tears springing to my eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“We don’t have time for excuses, you need to get back—remember?”
“But if you just let me—”
“Stop. All I want you to be doing is thinking about the punishment you deserve.”
I swallowed, suddenly realizing how dry and parched my throat was. “Brandon, please.”
The gaze he leveled on me made me shrink back. “I’ve asked you to be quiet. Since you can’t do that, go stand in the corner.”
Maybe it was because I’d just come from work where I called the shots and no one talked over me, but something in me refused to submit. Instead, I stood up, put my hands on my hips and glared right back at him.
“Is that how you want to play it, little girl?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Fine, have it your way.” In one stride he covered the distance between us, his large hands reaching out to encircle my wrists.
“Stop!” I demanded, stamping my foot. “Just—”
“Who calls the shots here, Karen?”
I clenched my teeth, just in case my tongue wanted to betray me. I tried to jerk my wrists back, but he had no problem keeping a hold on me and dragging me to the couch. The minute I landed facedown over his knees, I let out a frustrated scream. “You’re not listening to me! Let me up!” I began to fight tooth and nail to get off his lap but it was like a fly trying to get out of a spider web. I was powerless to do anything but stay where he wanted me.
“First, you’re going to listen to me. After you’ve been punished and had some time to think about what you did wrong, then you can have your turn.”
“That’s not fair!” I exclaimed, scissoring my legs. When Brandon threw his leg over mine, trapping me once and for all, I retaliated by slapping his leg as hard as I could.
He never said a word, but the feel of his heavy hand on my tender rear said it all. The strength of the first spanks surprised me with their ferocious, fiery sting. From the get-go, he meant business. I could feel it in the message he was trying to hand-deliver to my bottom.
Still, I never stopped struggling to free myself from his iron grip. “Let me up!” I demanded in between spanks. “I want to leave!”
“Do you?” he asked, not even pausing in the punishment he was administering.
“Yes!” I squealed after the next scorcher. “I want to leave! You can’t keep me here!”
“If you want to leave, all you have to do is say so.”
“I just did!” I snapped—which, as it turned out wasn’t a very smart thing to do as it only made him step up the swats.
“I’m waiting. You know what you have to say.”
It was on the tip of my tongue and I opened my mouth and almost uttered the words that would bring this to a crashing halt—almost. I couldn’t say exactly what stopped me except the thought that to stop the punishment meant an end to us. Not that I was thinking very fondly of him at the moment.
“You have got to start treating people better!” he scolded, bouncing his hand from one cheek to the other. “You have to learn to manage—Smack—your temper!” Smack, smack.
The swats were coming so fast together now that I couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. Brandon wasn’t deterred by it in the least and was still spanking me without any sign of slowing as I sobbed.
“You will figure out how to make this right and you will remember your promises in the future. Understood?”
“I know you’re upset with me, but if you just—”
“Still giving me lip?” His disappointment cut through me, even more than the words he uttered next: “I guess you need a reminder to listen, too.”
My stomach clenched at the thought. “No-ooo,” I protested, my tears coming faster. “I don’t. P-please.”
“You should have thought about that earlier. You have control over everything that happens to you, Karen. You’re the one who chooses to make bad decisions knowing the consequences.” He reached over and sure enough I saw the clear bottle of lubricant in his hand. Had he taken to keeping it on the coffee table? Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier? But I knew why—I’d been much too distracted with trying to save my ass from a spanking, for all the good it had done me.
“I’ll be good,” I tried one more time, but Brandon acted as though I hadn’t even spoken. In no time he was lifting the skirt of my dress and pulling my panties down—the ones I’d run out to Macy's to buy the night before. I hadn’t even realized until that moment that he’d been spanking me over my clothes. How w
as it possible that his hand hurt so freaking much?
My thoughts were instantly diverted by the feel of the lubricant sliding over my anus. The only protest I made was in the form of the whimper that escaped my lips, not that it stopped his finger from invading the tight space.
“Are you listening now?” he asked, plunging in and out.
I groaned at the discomfort. “Yes,” I said, once again reduced to sounding like a little girl.
“Good.” His tone was hard and he moved his finger faster, making my eyes well up with brand new tokens of remorse. “I want you to treat people better, Karen. No one deserves to be talked down to like that, understand?”
“I understand, Sir,” I insisted, mewling at the full sensation I was feeling.
“You will keep your promises.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He didn’t lecture me further, but he continued to finger my ass for a few more minutes until I was limp over his lap, submitting myself to whatever punishment he deemed necessary. “You can sit up, but I don’t want you to pull your panties up.”
Still sniffling, I watched as he left the room. While he was gone I thought about what he’d said. He was right, of course, though I wasn’t bursting to share the realization at present. My ass hurt too much for me not to sulk a bit.
When he came back into the room the first thing that I noticed was that the hard look of disapproval had left his eyes. I was about the exhale the breath I’d been holding until I noticed the second thing—that he was carrying something small and black in his hand and I didn’t have a clue what it was.
Brandon sat down beside me and pulled me over his lap. “The next time I hear of you yelling at someone like that at work, you’re going to go back to the office with a little reminder to control your temper.”
“Please, don’t,” I gasped.
“But for now,” he continued as though I hadn’t spoken, “I think a few minutes will do it.” Knowing that trying to talk him out of whatever he planned was a waste of breath and energy, I forced myself to lie still as he flipped my skirt up again. The cool air kissed what was sure to be a red bottom, making my sore skin prickle with goose bumps.
