by April Lust
He shot me a glare that suggested I not keep poking. I let him drive in peace, needing some time to relax before we got to his place. When he pulled into the alley behind a row of townhouses, I gathered my things.
“Are you hungry?” he asked after he pulled into the garage. I saw his motorcycle parked in the next stall over, and a vivid memory of clinging to him as he drove down I-90 in the summers came back to me. “Lauren. Are you hungry?”
“A little.” I nodded and pulled the handle of the door to open it.
“I’ll order a pizza. I haven’t gone shopping in a while.” He pulled out his phone and, as he ushered me through the small backyard to the back door of his house, he ordered a large half cheese and half mushroom pizza. Just like when we were kids. He hated mushrooms, but always let me put them on half the pizza.
While he was busy digging out his key and opening the door, I looked at the house. Nice. Not rundown with loose shingles and faded paneling like I imagined, but new. Brick exterior, solid black shingles beside each set of windows, and there were two floors, not counting the basement. Even the back porch looked modern with the wrought iron banister and concrete steps.
“You coming?” he asked from inside, and I realized I had been staring at the house.
Feeling my cheeks heat up, I walked past him inside. The kitchen blew me away. Stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, and ceramic flooring.
“What? Think I’d still live in a dump like my old man?” He half laughed when he shut the back door.
“No. Of course not.” I shook my head and slid my backpack onto the kitchen island. “I just didn’t expect you to have such modern tastes.” I pointed to the crown molding.
“Well, don’t be too impressed. When I bought the place, it was a shit hole. I let the chick I was fucking—I mean, the girl I was seeing—do the decorating when I remodeled it all. She didn’t have horrible taste.”
It hadn’t occurred to me he might have a girlfriend. “Oh. Are you seeing someone?” Would he have had sex with me while he was involved with someone else? Maybe he just saw me as an easy lay.
“What? No.” He moved toward me, closing the space between us until his boots touched my gym shoes. “I’m not really the ‘seeing someone’ type.” His hand ran up my arm before tucking a willful strand of hair behind my ear.
“So last night. That was just you fucking another chick?” The words tasted sour as I said them, and from the change in his demeanor, he didn’t like them anymore than I did. His shoulders tensed and his jaw firmed. “No. Don’t answer that.” I stepped back, turning and moving around the island. Space. I needed space, and some sort of barrier between u; otherwise I’d let him get to me. I’d let those damn eyes of his soothe the anger building inside of me. I had no right to be angry. We weren’t a thing. We weren’t even friends anymore.
“Lauren—”
I cut him off with a shake of my head.
“Listen to me.”
“Not really interested. What I am interested in is finding out why you’ve brought me here and why you got so pissed when I told you I was going to meet that cop.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I could have let him tell me that the night we spent together meant something. I could have listened to him spout all sorts of lies. I’m sure by now he’d gotten really good at them. I wouldn’t doubt he had a new woman in his bed every night. I mean, look at him! All muscles, inked, and the way his touch could set a woman on fire, yeah, definitely a new woman each night. I just happened to be there, my luck.
He didn’t move toward me again, but if his eyes indicated anything it was his desire to jump over the island at me. Dark eyes glared at me as he calmly pressed his palms into the countertop and leaned over toward me. “You will listen to me, Lauren. You weren’t just some notch on my belt. That’s not what last night was, not to me.”
“I’m new to the casual sex thing,” I shot at him. As much as his expression warned me to back down, it was Michael, he wouldn’t hurt me. Not physically.
“I just said that’s not what last night was. You don’t listen so well anymore, huh?” The snarl was back in his voice, another indicator to take a breather.
“Whatever, Michael. Tell me what’s going on that you’re keeping me here instead of letting me go home to my apartment.”
He eyed me with thinned lips and narrowed eyes. “You’ve gotten mouthy over the years.”
“I’m not a little girl anymore, Michael. I keep telling you that. I keep telling you I can take care of myself now.” I did my best to keep my voice from wavering. He didn’t frighten me, but the intensity of his stare on me, the closeness of his body to me, made my skin tingle, made my mind race toward thoughts that would only get one of us hurt.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the doorbell rang. He swallowed hard. “Don’t move from that spot, Lauren Robertson. This conversation isn’t over. Not one fucking step away from where you are, got me?” I never knew a man could sound so much like a rabid animal until I heard Michael growl so many orders at me.
My chest hurt from the large breath I was holding, and I finally let it out once he disappeared out of the kitchen. I planted my elbows on the counter and cradled my head in my hands. What was I doing, provoking Michael? Nothing good would come out of it, why start a fight with him?
The idea of his arm wrapped around someone else made my stomach turn. In the last seven years of not knowing where he was or what he was doing, not a day went by that I didn’t think about him. I knew he’d moved on with his life, and that meant he’d have relationships with women. Grown women. Not innocents like me. Innocent. What really defined that word anyway? It meant one thing to Michael, but something entirely different to other people.
None of the guys I dated were innocent. I thought I searched for Michael in every man I saw. Rugged. Troublemakers. I quickly was starting down the same path my mom had dragged me down. It took one horrible night a few years back for me to realize what I was doing. I was trying to replace Michael, but they were nothing in comparison. Just a muscle-head with a bag of trouble. But even those rough and tumble guys, none of them electrified my core as quickly as Michael could. Just a stare, a quick look could put me on edge and make me want him. And damn if he didn’t exploit that fact.
“Pizza’s here,” he called from the hallway. I listened to his steps as they came closer. I needed to get my head on straight. When he walked into the kitchen, he slid the pizza box onto the counter and grabbed my arms. Pulling me toward him, his lips crashed down on mine before I could take a breath.
Michael didn’t do gentle, and that was just fine with me. His tongue licked at my lower lip, and when I didn’t open for him right away his teeth bit into my lip, dragging it downward. I couldn’t stop the groan that escaped me as his tongue slid past my lips, sweeping into my mouth. His hand cradled the back of my head, his fingers clenching and pulling my hair. The pain in my scalp mingled with the sensuous stroking of his tongue.
When he broke off the kiss and looked down at me, my lips felt swollen, and I licked them, tasting the remnants of him. Deep wrinkles appeared on the side of his eyes as he grinned down at me. A strand of hair had fallen over his brow, giving him a boyish look. His fingers didn’t release my hair as he spoke. “I had a feeling that would put you in a better head space.”
I blinked. When had my hands moved up to his chest? My fingers were curled into his t-shirt, clinging to him.
“You’re not some chick off the street, Lauren. I would never treat you like that.” His words were said with sincerity and his eyes matched his tone. The warmth crept back into them. My hair was released and he brought his hand forward, trailing down my jaw until it curled under my chin. “My Lauren.” He whispered so softly, I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “For now. For now, you are mine and only mine.”
“Until you’re done with me,” I managed to say, looking at him so pointedly in the eye unsettled my resolve to remain distant.
“Until we ar
e done with each other.” He gave my chin a little shake. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Michael.” I always have been. “Until we are sick of each other,” I added with a small smile. How easily he could always turn my mood around.
He kissed me again, quick and hard, before completely releasing me. “Let’s eat.” He pulled out the stools for us to sit and pulled the box in front of us. No plates needed.
“I need to know what’s going on, Michael.” I tiptoed into the forbidden territory between bites of the mushroom side of the pizza.
“I’ll tell you what you need to know later.” He didn’t even look over at me as he gave that directive. I wanted to shove him off his stool.
“What I need to know is everything.” I tossed my crust back into the box.
“Still don’t eat the crust?” he asked incredulously. “I thought only kids put the crusts back.”
“Well, I thought only kids ran away from home. Turns out we were both wrong.” I slid off my stool and swiped my bag from the counter, heading out of the kitchen in search of a bathroom and bed. I needed to get some work done and go to sleep, but Michael was at my side in a flash.
His hand gripped my shoulder and spun me back around to face him. I barely had time to acknowledge he was there before he hoisted me up over his shoulder. I lost my grip on my bag in the process and it fell to the floor.
“I’ve had enough of that bratty mouth of yours.” He slid his hand up my thigh, resting it on my ass. “I think it’s time we had a talk.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lauren
From the sound of his voice, I didn’t think he actually meant talk as in exchange words in an open form of communication. The hard slap he delivered to my ass when I tried to buck off his shoulder explained pretty well what his idea of talk was going to mean.
“I wasn’t being bratty.” I swung my fists at his back, but he didn’t seem to notice as he never even broke stride as he marched up the stairs to the second floor.
“Oh, I think you were. At least a little. Maybe you didn’t believe me. Maybe you wanted to see what happens to naughty girls.”
“Why didn’t you want to see me when you went away? Why did you just drop me like that?” I asked. His shoulder dug into my stomach; I needed a distraction if I weren’t going to lose what little pizza I had just eaten.
A door banged as he kicked it open and I closed my eyes as he tossed me onto the bed. I bounced before I caught myself and braced my body against my elbows.
“You want to know everything, but you haven’t given me shit,” I yelled up at him.
“There’s that potty mouth again.” He folded the belt in his hand, not looking disgruntled at all.
“Your belt.” I nodded at him. I couldn’t explain it, but the sight of him standing there, his muscles tense beneath the t-shirt, his determined eyes set on me, and the thick black leather belt in his hands, didn’t frighten me. If anything, I could feel my body reacting to him, my panties started to dampen the longer I stared at the leather strap.
“You are going to come around the bed, bend over and present that sexy ass to me for your spanking. You’ll take five good licks of this belt, apologize for being mouthy, and then you’ll get a reward for being a good girl. Once we are done with all of that, if you do everything you’re told, you’ll get your damn answers.”
“How is what you’re doing any different than what my stepdad did?” I swallowed hard. One definite difference could be evidenced in my panties. The longer he stared at me like that, with the hunger and control, the wetter I became. The more I wanted to submit to his will.
“You didn’t have a choice with that asshole. He didn’t care about you. He only wanted to hurt you. I’m going to discipline you, put you in your place so we can get on to the rewarding part. But your mouth has written a few checks and it’s time to cash them.”
“I choose not to have a belting.”
He smiled. “Cute. But no, you’re getting your spanking, naughty girl. By choice I mean you can choose to be good and get lots of rewards, or you can choose to be a bad girl and take your spankings. That’s your choice. Although, I suppose you could choose not to take your spanking, but then you are also choosing not to get your reward—and you won’t get your reward until you take your spanking.”
All his code talk and repeating the word spanking had my mind twirling and unable to catch up. “What’s my reward?” I asked before I thought better of it.
“Your orgasm. You won’t have another one until you’ve taken your punishment.” He might as well have stroked my clit with the way his words affected my body. My pussy clenched and my nipples hardened under my shirt. “And if you’re thinking you’ll just give yourself one, remember you said you’re mine…which means you can’t touch that pussy unless I give the okay.”
I hadn’t read that fine print down in the kitchen, but damn if the idea didn’t send my juices flower even faster.
“So you choose.” He took a few steps back until he reached the chest against the wall. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against it, taking an entirely too casual stance. Didn’t he understand what he was asking me to do? To subject myself to a spanking like an errant child? Had I really been a brat to him? Had I pushed him on purpose to see if he would actually spank me?
Dammit.
“Fine,” I huffed, and climbed back over the bed, turning around and sliding off, keeping my back to him. I didn’t want to see the satisfied look on his face at his win. I bent over, pressing my body against his mattress, taking in the smell of his comforter.
He laughed softly from behind me. “Take off your pants and your panties, Lauren. Then spread your legs so your feet are shoulder length apart.”
Didn’t he understand how humiliating it was already to subject myself to his Neanderthal punishment? He needed to add to it by making me strip for him? If I positioned myself the way he described, there would be no way he wouldn’t see how wet I was, how much I wanted him to touch me.
“Lauren, I can help you, but I’d have to add two lashes for disobedience.” He didn’t sound as though he would mind all that much.
I pushed all the air out of my lungs and went to work on doing what he said. I didn’t look at him, though; no, he could just keep his eyes on my back, or my ass. Using the heel of my foot I took off my shoes and pushed them to the side. I slipped out of my jeans and tossed them on the floor. I pushed my panties down to my ankles and kicked them on top of my jeans. I could already feel the heat in my cheeks just from knowing he could see me, would know in just a minute how much his horrible behavior turned me on.
I walked my feet outward until my legs were spread to his specifications, then bent over the damn bed again. I gripped the comforter and buried my face in it. If the spanking didn’t kill me, the mortification of that moment surely would.
The floor boards creaked beneath his boots as he stepped to me. A featherlike touch made contact with my upturned bottom. He dragged his fingertips along my smooth backside. “Such a nice ass. Smooth and creamy white. Perfect.” He gripped my cheek hard in his palm, his fingernails dug into my flesh just enough to get a reaction from me. “Keep your head up, Lauren,” he said when he released me and walked to the other side of me. “You’ve never been spanked before, and normally I’d warm your ass up before taking a belt to it, but I need this to drive home what I expect from you. I expect honesty. I expect straight answers when I ask a question. I expect a respectful tone. I expect obedience, and I expect you not to hide anything from me.”
The last statement caught me off guard. I looked at him over my shoulder then. I needed to see his face, to see if he knew something. Nothing. His eyes were on my ass, watching his fingers trail down toward the curve of my cheeks. “Are you ready?”
Of course I wasn’t. “Yes.” I nodded and looked forward again. It was at that moment I realized his blinds weren’t closed. I could see him in the reflection of the glass against the darken
ed night. He didn’t look down at me with a menacing grin; he looked almost pained as he brought the belt back. My eyes clenched shut when I saw his arm move forward.
Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the searing fire that lit up across my ass when the belt landed against both of my cheeks. I screamed and scramble up onto the bed, covering my ass with my hands. He looked at me with a mixture of surprise and irritation.
“Get back in position, Lauren. Now, or that one won’t count.”
Tears burned my eyes, but I managed to scramble back into position. I wondered again what the hell was wrong with me, complying with him.
“Now, tell me the first thing I expect from you.”
I bit my lip. My ass burned already, and I had four more lashes to go. “You expect honesty,” I muttered, and just as I finished, the belt landed again, just below the first lash. I yelled out again, but managed to stay put. My fingers dug into the comforter and the tears spilled down my cheeks. “You expect straight answers when you ask me a question.” I tried to clench my ass, but with my legs spread it wasn’t as easy to manage and the belt landed again, inciting another fire in a new part of my skin. “You expect a respectful tone.” I gulped in a deep breath, readying myself for the fourth blow. I didn’t have to wait long, the crack of the leather against my ass filled the room but didn’t compete with my grunted curse.
