by Maren Smith
Of course she'd hurry to undress and stand there naked for his inspection. He'd make her stand for what seemed like the longest time, just enjoying her naked embarrassment. Then finally he would lean forward and his hands would come to her sides.
"Did I say you could shave this?" One of his large callused hands would skim down over her mons. "I'm pretty sure I didn't give you permission to shave my property." The hand at her hip would fly outward and deliver a quick slap to her bottom cheek. "Answer me."
"I thought you would like it, sir."
"Whom does your body belong to?"
"You, sir."
"That's right. Now get over here." He'd pull her over his lap, but before he started spanking, he would stroke down lower between her folds. "Charlene, what is this? All this moisture? You are going to be spanked. You're not supposed to be wet. You naughty girl." And her embarrassment would cause her to drench his fingers. Then he would smack right on her sit spot, left side and then right. Not too hard, but a slightly stinging burn all too close to the area he'd been stroking, and her super sensitive pearl would hum wanting him to come back to it.
Charlie had not been expecting the star of her personal fantasy to be knocking on her door that morning. She hadn't even made it to the shower yet. And nobody had knocked on her door since she'd moved in except that one day Jenna had visited. Oh, and Miranda, but she didn't count.
So to say she was surprised to open the door and find her mouth-watering, sleepless-night inducing stud leaning on her doorframe was the worst kind of understatement. She knew her mouth hung open and she should say something, but what came out wasn't words and she was very afraid it was going to be coffee breath so she closed her lips once again and swung around, gesturing for him to come in.
"Thought you had to work." His voice rumbled low and sexy from behind her. She ignored him and went back to her coffee. Brinks had just realized they had company and came in from the patio to greet him. Vin scooped the little dog up without taking his dark brown eyes off Charlie.
She tugged her short nightshirt down, curled her legs beneath her on the sofa and sipped her coffee as if he weren't there. "So you came here to rob the place while I was gone?"
"No, I came to bring you breakfast." He produced a pastry bag she hadn't seen. "And to see if you were lying to me again." His eyes narrowed but it was a mischievous smirk that played at the side of his mouth. "You are such a lovely little liar, however terrible you are at it."
"I fooled you before." She tipped her chin up, challenging him without even understanding why she did it.
"You can be sure your lies will be found out, sugar. You are itching for something, aren't you?" Vin's gaze became more intense. His eyebrows rose, asking her if she would deny it.
"Yes, I'm itching for a glorious morning muffin. That is what you brought, isn't it?" She reached for the bag he'd offered her a moment before.
"No, it's double chocolate. I've been told you can't go wrong with bringing a woman chocolate." He stood up and handed her the bag and then set Brinks on the sofa next to her. "Do you mind if I bring Bruce in?" He was already heading for the door.
He acted the same exact way for the next couple days, just showing up, acting like nothing was the matter and then leaving again a bit later the same way. As much as she was having a hard time talking about how she felt about the whole spanking problem, now she was torn about not talking about it.
How could he just act like nothing was the matter, like there had never been a huge problem, like he hadn't bought her house? How was she supposed to just go on? Pretend nothing had happened?
No, she couldn't, so she resolved to find a way to talk to him. As soon as she finished deciding how she felt. She couldn't deny she wanted him. He was fun and damn sexy. But what exactly was this? How far did he want to take it? It couldn't be a sex thing because she hadn't been able to get him to have sex with her when she'd tried that night. So what was it?
She would have to get gutsy and just open it up. She was surprised he hadn't forced the discussion. She almost wished he would have. That night in front of her—no his house he'd said they were going to talk, and he'd sounded pretty damn firm. Now, almost a week had passed, and he'd been coming over every day, morning or evening for no reason or for any reason he could think of.
She would try to talk to him tonight. She had to get it out of the way. Maybe she would cook dinner. Yes, she could do that. Instead of leaving him hanging around trying to find reasons to see her, she could call him and invite him to dinner.
Charlie had just left the grocery store and was waiting for the traffic light to change while trying to remember if she still had olive oil at home because she'd forgotten it in the store. The light changed and the SUV in front of her pulled forward to turn left, but a truck came flying from the right and crashed into the passenger side of the SUV and slammed it into the cars coming from the left.
For a split second Charlie simply sat there in shock, but then her training kicked in and she slammed her car into park and ran into the fray to help. The SUV that had been hit was pinned between another SUV in the oncoming lane and the truck that had hit it. The driver of the truck, a teenage boy, got out of the truck just as she came up.
"Sir, are you okay?"
"I didn't see the light," he mumbled, looking at the SUV. Other onlookers were starting to come out to watch.
"Someone call nine-one-one," she called over her shoulder and turned back to the kid. "Please go sit down on the curb until an ambulance comes." Charlie turned back to the SUV; she'd yet to see the driver of the vehicle move and that made her a priority. The driver of the other SUV slid across the front seat to get out of his passenger side. So she had to get inside the Tahoe and try to help the woman who wasn't moving. The driver's side doors were completely blocked by the other SUV and the truck was blocking the passenger-front door. That only left the passenger-side, back door. Just as she reached for the handle, she realized two things: the door was locked and there was a child in the back seat.
The little boy was perhaps six and crying for his mom who was obviously not responding. Charlie climbed up on the running board and looked over the roof of the Tahoe to the SUV and the other people standing around; she didn't know what to do. Without knowing what the status was on mom, she had to get in there. Could she back the truck up? No, maybe not.
The little boy's crying brought her focus back in front of her. He seemed to be unhurt. She knocked on the window. "Hi there, buddy. I'm a nurse; I'm here to help you. I want to help your mom. Can you hear me? Can you reach the door and unlock it so I can help you?" The boy had stopped sobbing and just looked at her pitifully, tears rolling down his cheeks. He sat in a high-backed booster seat with a five-point harness and it was pretty likely he couldn't undo it. No, maybe he didn't trust her. She took off her coat; she still had her work scrubs with the green frogs on it. She smiled and tried again. "I'm a nurse, buddy. Unlock the door so I can help your mom. She needs me."
The blond-haired child was small and his eyes were intelligent, even though they were red and brimming all over again. She could tell when he finally decided she was a good person. He leaned toward the door and started to try the buttons. But none of them seemed to work. Son of a biscuit. Child locks?
She looked around again searching for something, anything. Sirens. Thank God! She heard sirens getting closer and closer. Oh, the poor woman. Charlie's heart broke when she heard crying again. Poor thing, frustrated and scared. "It's okay, buddy, they're coming. The doctors and the police. They're coming."
Charlie looked at the passenger window above the hood of the truck. It was shattered. Maybe she could crawl up on the hood of the truck and slide from the truck down into the Tahoe.
"Charlie," She heard Vin's voice as he came up behind her. "Are you hurt?"
"No. There is a little boy in there, but the door is locked. The driver, his mother, is unresponsive. He can't unlock the door; we tried." Vin looked over the scene, probably thi
nking the same things she had. "I was thinking about trying to slide in the window. The truck's driver is over there; I don't know if we could just back it up."
"Stand back." Vin went to the truck and climbed in like he owned it. The keys must've still been in it because he started it and tried to back it up. The sound of screeching metal filled the air, but all he did was drag the Tahoe away from the SUV on the other side. Charlie ran to the other side, but it was still locked and the windows were intact. From there she could see the blonde woman's head tilted forward, resting against the wheel. It was hard to tell, but if Charlie focused very carefully it looked like her coat moved in a slow, steady pattern a lot like breathing: four respirations in fifteen seconds. The sound of shattering glass and then Vin's calm voice distracted her. He had used his flashlight to break out the rest of the glass in the front passenger window. The boy was crying and Vin was trying to calm him. Charlie ran back to him. What was taking the paramedics and other rescue workers so long? She could hear more sirens, but it felt like it had been hours.
"Tango, Hier." Vin lifted Tango to the hood of the truck. What was he doing? "Geh Rein." Before Charlie could even think it, Tango had squirmed and slid sideways into the Tahoe, and then at Vin's direction, unlocked the doors with a touch of his paw to the unlock button. Charlie went back around to the driver while Vin and Tango comforted the boy.
She'd been right about the respirations. The woman was unresponsive but had a pulse and was breathing. She had a laceration on her temple, but by the time Charlie had finally been able to get to the woman the paramedics were walking up to her anyway. Charlie was ready to have a heart attack from the adrenaline rush. If the eight minutes it took for paramedics to arrive felt like hours, the time after that with the police and statements felt like weeks.
But it was while Charlie gave her statement that something huge happened inside her. She was a key witness so to speak. She did see the whole thing happen right in front of her eyes. That was the problem. She could have been in the same place as the poor teenage boy. She'd overheard him giving his statement. He wasn't drunk, speeding or texting, nothing illegal. Well, except for not noticing the light had changed and plowing into the other Tahoe. But that was just it; Charlie had done so much worse so many times. She was an awful person. She could have killed someone. She could have killed the little boy—Tyson, or his mom. She thought about Tyson again; many of the people milling about had commented that if the mother had pulled forward a little more before the truck hit, the teenager would have hit the boy's door.
Charlie could only imagine how many of those types of scenes Alex or Vin witnessed all the time. Alex told her things like that constantly and he had always been so protective because of the horrible things he saw every day.
"Hi, sugar. You look exhausted." She heard Vin behind her at the same time she felt his warm hand at her hip. "I know this really good Romanian Pizza joint…" He winked at her as he turned her around. "You want to go get some dinner?"
"Only if you'll take me back to your place and order in."
Chapter Eleven
"Hmm, I have déjà vu," Vin said as they were driving away. "But this time you are going to tell me what you like on your pizza."
"I'd hate for you to order it special for me to only eat one piece." Or pretend to eat, she added to herself. Pizza was one of those things that didn't sit well with her—way too heavy, way too much fat.
"That doesn't matter." He looked in his mirror, then over his shoulder at Tango perhaps, then he looked back to her. Charlie had been watching him out of the corner of her eye. "Would you rather we go to your place? You look tired. It's been a long day for you. After you eat, I could tuck you in." He winked at her.
"I'd rather go to your house and you could tuck me into your bed." Charlie didn't know where it came from and her face flushed hot, but she was glad it was out.
"I hope you don't come on to everyone like that. I'm pretty sure I should probably spank you." His eyebrow rose as he looked from the road back to her again. The heat in his single glance or maybe his confident tone, whatever it was, sent a jolt of liquid heat right to her most intimate place.
"Yes, I'm sure you should, and maybe I want you to." She tipped her head sideways. What was she doing?
"Charlie, what are you doing?" He read her mind, his voice changing. Gone was the teasing lilt; in its place was the stern officer again.
"I don't know. I just…" Pools of tears began to fill her eyes before flowing down her cheeks. She wiped her face with her sleeve and started rifling through her purse for the tissues once again.
Vin rested his hand on her knee. "It's okay, sugar. We're going to work this out."
They rode in silence the next couple minutes and soon came to her old neighborhood. Dusk was already falling and the streetlights were on. The Rogers' blue recycling can still sat at the road along with their green refuse bin. They never took them up to the house, not in all the years she'd lived there.
When Charlie walked in the door of the old brick colonial, it was on shaking knees. She really had never expected to enter her old house again. Vin told her to go on in while he took care of the dogs. He'd gone around the back with Tango, so she had a couple minutes to herself.
It looked pretty much the way she'd left it. He hadn't painted or anything. And more amazing yet, when she went into the living room, the orange sofa was still there. Why hadn't he gotten rid of it? It was hideous really. It should have been thrown out years and years ago. Charlie couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. She ran to the wretched old sofa, curled up on it and cried like a baby. She was there when Bruce came in and licked her face, followed by Vin a moment later.
"Hey, baby, what is the matter?" He sat next to her and lifted her into his arms, onto his lap. "It's okay, sugar. Shh." Vin held her tight to his chest and stroked her hair.
She felt like such an idiot, but she didn't care. She didn't know why she was even crying. Maybe it was one of those old adages, "You don't know what you have until it's gone." She had tried to pretend she didn't miss her house, but it wasn't true. She turned and looked up toward the corner of the ceiling. "Uh, you fixed it." She sniffed.
"The huge crack, yes. Why? Did you like it? I always worried about the fissures in the walls of the rental and I… was picturing huge spiders or bats coming out of them." He situated her on his lap better and brushed her hair away from her eyes. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?"
Charlie blinked a couple times just staring at his mouth, then let her line of sight drop to his chest. She didn't even know what was going on. She reached for his shirt and thumbed one of the dark blue buttons. It was unbuttoned already and open so she could see his black T-shirt underneath. When he had removed his gun-belt, she didn't know.
"I don't know. I think I've messed everything up… No, I mean I was sick of Alex being so overbearing… that was why I lied to you the first time, well every time…. It's why I sold my house. I thought Alex wanted me to date you so you would spank me."
"Look at me, Charlie." He lifted her chin in his cupped hand until they were eye to eye. "I like you a lot. It has nothing to do with Alex. No, let me say that again. I don't just like you—I love you, Charlie. Even though you are a handful. It is you and your determination. You are a stubborn brat, but I love you. I probably shouldn't have spanked you like I did the last time. We barely knew each other."
Vin more than likely wanted to say more; his mouth was open, but Charlie cut him off. "That's just it. I realized something tonight. I did deserve to be spanked, that time and many others. I was acting spoiled and selfish. When I saw the driver, that kid, saying he just didn't see the light… well you know how I drive. I realized you guys see stuff like that all the time. And Alex has always been really over-protective and I get so angry, but he probably sees way worse than I can even imagine." She covered her face in her hands and cried. "I've been so hateful to you guys…"
"Shhh, it's okay, sugar." He pulled her to his chest ag
ain, and helped her to slide her coat off. Then he held her, running his fingers up and down her spine, sending currents of heat straight to her sex, both calming and confusing her.
"No, it's not. I'm awful."
"You are not. Now stop it. You've made some mistakes and you're learning from them." He continued hugging her and rubbing her back, neck and arms. "It will be okay."
"No, I'm so stupid."
"Charlene, if you say one more bad thing about yourself you are going to wind up over my knee. I won't put up—"
"I want you to spank me! I deserve it. From the beginning I've done nothing but lie to you and you've been so good to me," she sobbed.
"Well, why didn't you just ask?" Vin caught her under her chin and pulled her around to look in her eyes again. "If you want me to spank you, all you have to do is ask." He stared at her for a long, intense moment until she realized he was waiting for her to ask. Hadn't she just done that? She nodded instead. Was it enough? "But you have to understand—if you ask for a spanking, you will get it. Like it or not." She nodded again. "Okay, then stand up and pull those pants down."
She stood, not on her own strength, but with his supporting arms helping her to get into the upright position. When his directive met her ears, she grumbled, "Vin, no, not my pants."
"There are a couple things we're going to have to get straight right now. I will not repeat myself and stalling will only get you more. Let's go." He had mercy on her and quickly relieved her of the task by pulling the string at the waist of her bright green scrub pants. They fell to her knees quickly and with a tug she was over his muscular thighs, secure under his arm, looking at the familiar sofa, the uneven hardwood floor. "Now why am I spanking you, Charlie?"
She sobbed as his hand caressed her cheeks. She squeezed them, waiting for the first smack. It had been a while and she knew the time would make her bottom more tender and she didn't want to answer questions; it was worse than spankings. "Vin…" she pleaded.
