The sounds of the spanking echoed through the small house like gunshots. In the kitchen, Gail jumped with every swat as though she was being spanked herself. They’d been able to make out the faint rumble of Cade’s voice but whatever he’d said to Nicky had been indistinguishable. Stacy had done her best to distract Gail by making small talk and swapping stories. For a few minutes, it had worked, but when Cade had started spanking in earnest, distraction had quickly become a lost cause. When Nicky started to yell and cry, Gail made a frantic break for the stairs. Stacy stepped over and blocked her path.
“Stop,” Stacy told her firmly. “We both know Cade isn’t hurting him. You need to let this happen.”
“Not hurting him,” Gail said, aghast. “How can you say that? Can’t you hear him crying?”
Stacy steered her back to the table and sat down. For a long moment, she wrestled with herself, knowing what she wanted to do. Six months ago, before meeting Cade, Stacy would have never imagined herself advocating spanking to anyone, ever. It wasn’t so much that she was against it; she just wasn’t for it either. She was aware of it, of course. This was Texas, and rural Texas at that. Corporal punishment was still common in schools and in many families. Stacy had just never had any personal experience with it. Now, though, she was definitely qualified to comment. Moreover, she understood what was happening right now very well. She knew Cade, and she had been Nicky. Cade was right, and she knew it. She just had to convince Gail of that.
“Do you know my parents?” Stacy asked finally. At Gail’s confused look, she elaborated, “Reinhardt Real Estate…”
Gail nodded. “Yes, Lenora helped me find this house. She’s your mother?”
“Yes,” Stacy replied, “much to her disappointment. She never wanted to be a mother, especially not to someone like me. She much preferred to ignore my existence.”
“Oh, Stacy,” Gail said, sitting down and reaching across to take her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Stacy brushed it off with a small smile. “It was a long time ago. My point is no one ever set limits for me. The older I got, the wilder I got. I think part of me was waiting for someone to say no. No one ever did, until Cade. Nicky is much better off if he gets that now. Trust me.”
The noise from upstairs had faded away. A moment later, Cade came down the stairs. Gail was instantly on her feet. “He’s fine,” Cade told her, putting out an arm to stop her immediate run for the stairs. “Give him a minute and he’ll be down. He’s a little upset, and he’ll no doubt feel it for a while, but I promise I haven’t done him permanent harm.”
As if on cue, Nicky stumbled down the stairs, still red-eyed and visibly subdued, made a beeline for his mother and hugged her hard. “I’m sorry, Mama,” he said into her shirt.
Gail cupped the back of his head, hugging him hard. “I know, baby. It’s all over now.”
Cade reached out and dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’re going to head out now, buddy. I need to get Stacy home and get out of these wet clothes.”
“Okay,” Nicky said quietly. He turned and hugged Stacy around the waist. “Thank you for helping me,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“Anytime buddy,” she told him. “Let’s not go climbing any more towers anytime soon though, okay? I’d prefer to do something less dangerous next time.” She flashed him a small smile.
Nicky returned it with a somewhat watery smile of his own. “Got it,” he agreed.
Cade steered Stacy out the door and into his truck. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
He looked up, surprised, but after a moment, nodded. “Yeah, it wasn’t pleasant, but it’s not like it’s my first spanking.” He shot her a slightly mischievous smile. “You, of all people, know that.”
Stacy laughed. “Yes, I do.”
“You want me to drop you off at the station to get your car or just take you home?” he asked.
“I’d rather go with you,” she replied. “We should talk.”
They ended up at Cade’s. Stacy, who was relatively dry and comfortable in the borrowed sweats, kicked off her still soggy sneakers and rummaged through the kitchen for the makings for dinner. By the time Cade emerged from the shower, wet-haired and barefoot, wearing ratty sweats and shrugging into a tee shirt, she had emerged with eggs, cheese and leftover steak and was quickly assembling omelets.
“Coffee should be done any minute,” she told Cade, jerking her head in the direction of the coffee maker. Cade moved behind her at the stove and reached to retrieve mugs from an upper cabinet, running a hand casually down her back as he passed. Stacy fought the urge to lean into him. The sheer comfort in that simple touch was astonishing. After weeks apart, it felt like the first rainstorm after a long drought. The impulse to turn and cling to him like a child was strong. Instead, she forced herself to focus on the cooking, sliding the first omelet onto a plate and beginning the second. Cade sat a mug of coffee by her hand. She picked it up automatically and sipped it, carefully turning the omelet. She smiled when she realized he’d remembered her preferences and made hers exactly to her taste. “I missed you,” she said softly, unable to stop herself.
“I missed you too,” Cade replied, sliding onto a stool at the bar that joined the kitchen and family room, nursing his coffee. “God, Stace, I didn’t even know what happened. You just exploded and disappeared. It felt like being hit with a Mack truck with no warning. You wouldn’t even talk to me.”
Stacy scooped her own omelet up and carried both plates to the bar, taking a seat beside Cade and passing him a plate. “I was hurt,” she told him. “I know that doesn’t automatically make it okay, but it’s the truth. I couldn’t see anything past that. For the first few days, I didn’t even go to work. I could barely get out of bed.”
“I wasn’t much better,” he said, absently cutting and eating food as they talked. “What the hell happened, Stace? I know what you said. I know what you thought, but how could you think that? Why would you believe that?”
The words cut like lashes. Stacy had no idea how to respond, how to explain the swirling mass of loneliness, rumor, suspicion, and innuendo that had followed her like a dark cloud. “You were so busy,” she said finally. “I barely saw you. Everyone was saying it. When they said you spent the night, it all seemed to make sense.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Cade asked.
“If you were cheating on me, it stood to reason that you would just lie,” Stacy said.
“I guess that makes sense,” Cade conceded, “but you didn’t even give me a chance. You just shut me out. I had no way to convince you otherwise. You wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“I know I screwed up,” Stacy said. “I know it wasn’t fair. I was just so hurt. I am sorry.”
“I believe you,” Cade said softly. “I do. I’m just not sure how to get past this. You weren’t the only one who was hurt. How do I know you won’t shut me out again?”
Stacy swallowed hard, blinking back tears. Her throat tightened and her stomach burned with guilt and desperation. The omelet she had eaten sat like a rock in the midst of it, and for a moment, she was afraid it would come back up. “I won’t,” she said shakily. “I swear I won’t, just please forgive me.”
“I’m trying, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It’s just going to take a while for us to trust again.”
Stacy nodded. It hurt, but she knew he was right. Instant miraculous forgiveness was for children and fairy tales. In reality, relationships took work and weren’t nearly so easy to repair. She was an adult. She knew how real life worked. Still, just for a moment, she would’ve taken the fairytale without question. She wished desperately that there was something, anything that would make it better that would cut through all the guilt and the hurt and the insecurity and just put it all behind them.
Cade drew her to him and hugged her. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get through this.”
Stacy nodded. She wanted to believe him. Most of her did believe him. Still, part of her wished
it were as easy for them as for Nicky. She wished adult problems could be solved by being punished and forgiven. She didn’t envy him the spanking, but she did the forgiveness. She wished her own absolution could be that simple.
“Punish me,” she said suddenly, on impulse.
“Sweetheart, as much as I believe in spanking, even I know it’s not the answer for everything,” he told her gently. “Some things just take time.”
“I know,” she replied. “I can’t believe I’m saying it either. In fact, part of me thinks it’s probably a sign that I’ve completely lost my mind. I’m just so sorry about this whole mess. You’re right; I wasn’t fair to you or to us. I should have at least tried to talk to you, to let you explain. I screwed up, and I know it. As much as I hate it, this way, your way, is the only way I know to even begin to try to make it right.”
Cade moved back to hold her at arms’ length and studied her face for a long moment. Finally, he nodded and led her down the hall to what was clearly his bedroom. Stacy swallowed on a highly inappropriate surge of nervous laughter. Who would’ve thought that the first time Cade brought her into his bedroom would be for a spanking, particularly one she’d asked for herself? He led her to stand by the bed then released her hand and moved over to the closet. She ran her hand nervously over the old fashioned bedspread, watching warily as Cade rummaged in the depths of the closet. He emerged a moment later with a small wooden paddle made of dark wood, resembling a very small bread board.
“I made this in high school,” he told Stacy. “I pretended it was going to be one of those plaque things like people put in their kitchens, but I always intended it to be a paddle. I had visions of passing it down like an heirloom or something.” He laughed shortly, turning the paddle over in his hands. “It seems silly now, but I’ve never used it. It never felt right. Somehow though, I think it’s appropriate today. This is about us, as a couple, not misbehavior as much as the very foundations of our relationship. I think that’s important enough to bring it out.”
Stacy swallowed hard against the knot clogging her throat. She wanted to say something, anything, to let him know she understood, but the words threatened to choke her. Cade crossed the room and sat down on the bed, laying the paddle within easy reach. He drew her around to his side and put her over his lap as easily if she were no older than Nicky. Her borrowed and baggy sweats fell away far too easily. She was suddenly intensely aware of the air drifting over her bare bottom, and her body tensed involuntarily. Stacy took a deep breath, folded her arms and dropped her head down on them, determined to take this quietly. After all, she had asked for it. The cool wood of the paddle pressed lightly against her bottom and then disappeared. A moment later, it came down again, and this time there was nothing gentle about it. The paddle cracked like a gunshot, leaving a burning sting in its wake. She jerked but managed to keep quiet. A moment later it came down on the other side, redoubling the sting. Stacy found herself breathing hard, her chest and throat tightening. The swats continued relentlessly, spreading the sting into an allover burn that made her whimper and jerk involuntarily. When Cade dropped lower to paddle her thighs, the tightness in her chest and throat exploded in a cry. Suddenly, she was sobbing and yelping, helpless to do anything else. The sting was far past bearable, but he didn’t stop.
“Please,” she begged breathlessly, “please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“We don’t shut each other out,” Cade said sternly. “We talk to each other.”
“I know!” Stacy sobbed. “I won’t do it again. I’ll talk. I promise.” She broke off in sobs.
Cade continued for another moment then laid the paddle down and began to rub her back and bottom gently. “It’s over,” he told her gently. “It’s all over now.” It was several long moments before Stacy began to get control of herself. The helpless sobs faded to crying and finally to hiccups and sniffles. Cade lifted her into his lap, cradling her gently, rocking.
Stacy curled into him. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“It’s over,” Cade said, brushing her damp hair back from her face. “From now on, we put this whole mess behind us and move forward. It’s all over now. It’ll be okay.”
For once, Stacy believed him. Whatever happened from here on out, everything would be ok.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
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Playing With Fire Page 17
