Relish (The Cass Chronicles Book 2)

by Susannah Shannon

  "Honey, it's okay." She knelt beside him.

  "Why would you think to hide that from me?"

  "I wasn't really, I just knew that since we'd decided I couldn't do stuff like that, it was easier to just," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "cut and run."

  Killian stood up. "When the fuck did we agree that you couldn't do stuff like that? When?"

  "Well, when we agreed that I would be submissive."

  He shook his head. "What? I didn't think I was a bully, but maybe I am."

  "What? Not at all. I wanted this. I want you."

  "Well, my wife thought that I would prevent her from pursuing her dreams. I must suck."

  "No! I chose this. I want you. I want to be your girl."

  "You can be my girl and have a TV show."

  "But how does that work?"

  "We'll figure it out. The deal is, I want you to be the best possible you that you can. I am so fucking proud of you." He kissed her.

  She kissed him back. "But you can't leave Slicktrench, your mom needs your help."

  "Then we will commute. They have these things called planes." She squeezed his hand. This marriage thing would never make any sense. Just when she accepted that it was all about sacrifice, she was handed a chance to love Killian even more.

  He pulled her close. "But," he added with a wink, "you won't be sitting comfortably on a plane or anywhere else for a long time, young lady."

  She was actually relieved. She now had a much better understanding of just how much a thorough hiding could hurt, and yet she also knew the forgiveness that would follow. They were kissing when Torsten stuck his head around the corner. "Bro, come here." Cass could not make out what her brother-in-law said. The delighted war whoop that her husband let loose was unmistakable however.

  As if there wasn't enough drama happening at the lodge, Lloyd suddenly walked in the door, with a young woman. The young woman who had sent him a text about her mother being in the hospital. Hazel was thrilled to see them. She took the young woman's hands and said, "I am so glad to meet you." Hazel was shimmering, radiant. She said to Lloyd, "Well, Torsten isn't getting married today." Lloyd's face flushed with delight and he gathered Hazel up into a bear hug.

  Oh God, Cass knew she should have said something earlier. Dammit, how could someone who never shut the hell up manage to hurt her two favorite people by not saying shit?

  "Hazel, he's not who you think he is."

  "What, dear?"

  "He isn't here for you; he's with the IRS. He's here about the taxes."

  "I'm not an auditor."

  "Oh quit with the stealth bullshit."

  "It's the truth; I am retired. "

  "Hazel, I am so sorry, but it's all an act, he's married. His wife has cancer."

  The young woman who had come in with Lloyd looked baffled, so at least she wasn't in on whatever the hell was happening.

  "Who has cancer?" she asked.

  "Your mother. I didn't mean to read the text" Cass answered sadly.

  "My mother? No she doesn't."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Pretty sure. Dad, did you tell Cass that my mom has cancer?"

  "Your mom? Sylvia?" He patted Hazel's hand. "That's my ex wife's name."

  Hazel nodded. "The one who's in rehab? I am so sorry, dear." She patted Gina's hand.

  Cass was getting a wee bit annoyed with all of the patting that was going on and then it sunk in. His ex wife. In rehab. "You're really not here about the taxes?"

  He grinned and put his arm around Hazel. "I am here because I am I in love with your mother-in-law."

  Oh. "I assumed Travis messed up your taxes," she said lamely to a beaming Hazel.

  "Oh, I'm sure he did. But once we get married, Lloyd can help me with those." Hazel continued, "And now we don't have to hide in the bathroom when you barge in!"

  "I don't barge—wait. Oh my God, were you in the bathroom when I took the towels in?"

  Hazel kissed her cheek. "Really, honey, for a big city girl, you are so naive!"

  Torsten cancelled the wedding. He simply came out and told the family that Ava would be returning to Juneau. She was too ashamed to say goodbye. Travis had driven Ava into town to catch the ferry out of Slicktrench.

  Libby offered to call all the guests to let them know that there would be no wedding. Hazel looked at Lloyd; Lloyd looked at Hazel. Everyone else sat down. Lloyd began, "Boys, I want you to know that this is not how I meant for this to happen. I wanted to pull you aside for a man to man talk. Your mom and I agreed that I would bring Gina up and we'd all meet and then we'd talk to you kids."

  Hazel burst in, "When Torsten set a date, I said that we would have to wait, I wanted all the attention to be on you and Ava." Hazel threw her hands up. "I am such a nitwit! I should have known it was all a lie! Nobody doesn't like red flowers."

  Lloyd quietly cleared his throat. "Killian, Torsten, I love your mother."

  He did. They could tell. Hazel reached for Gina and pulled her close. "If this were a movie, you guys would get married today!" Cass joked.

  Lloyd looked at Hazel who nodded. "We have the license, we have a preacher and in twenty minutes we will have guests."

  "When did you get a license?" Cass asked

  "Oh, we picked it up the other day. They are good for six months, so we were just crossing it off of the wedding to do list." Hazel looked at her boys with a furrowed brow.

  Killian leaned in and squeezed her. "I think he's a good choice, Ma."

  Torsten nodded in agreement and reached over to hug Lloyd. Cass found herself hugging Gina. "I am so glad your mom was in rehab. Oh God, no I'm not." Everyone laughed.

  Killian said, "Actually we can toast to a couple of things tonight!"

  Hazel looked confused. "You said that wasn't your pee stick."

  Cass shook her head vigorously. "It wasn't!" She considered making a joke about one fake pregnancy being quite enough but decided it might be too soon.

  Killian reached for Cass's hand. "My brilliant wife has been offered a TV show. She and I are going to move to Chicago at least for a little while." There was much hugging all around and Libby opened a bottle of champagne with a loud pop.

  Cass looked at Hazel. "Now, we can figure out how to get you all the help you need."

  Torsten bust out laughing. "Well, I can't cook like you can, Sis, but I am at least as good a guide as that jelly head you' re married to."

  Chapter 12 - The Reconnection Recipe

  "I wish it wasn't like this, but we can't really handle this right now. We have something we need to do. Come here."

  Killian took her hand and they walked to their apartment. He locked the doors behind them, turned on the CD player and opened up her lap top. He lay it on the bed and bent her over so that she was close to it. She had no idea what he had in mind. They would have a house full of guests in a quarter of an hour. Why did he get her lap top out? Was he going to record this or something? Her skirt was up over her hips and he retrieved the big paddle from the drawer. He paused. "Take off your panties; you aren't going to wear any today."

  Gulp. He helped her shimmy out of them and she saw him put them in his pocket. They were little panties, but not so little that she wasn't worried about them falling out of his pocket. But this was not the time to point out that she was not a tiny fey little waif, and that her panties could never be mistaken for a hair band or hanky. She reminded herself 'discretion is the better part of valor'. Maybe if she'd been spanked when she was younger, she'd be a Shakespearean scholar by now.

  The paddle rested along the midline of her bottom and with no preamble, her husband pulled it back and landed a very hard swat, followed by four more. All very hard. He put the paddle away, and leaned over to kiss her shoulder. "Now, email that magazine and take the job. Do it without moving. Stay right there with your naughty lit up bottom in the air. Then you can change and come down." He had lit her up, in five ferocious paddle swats, but right now the adrenalin was pumping through her veins, th
e thrill of taking a job with White Gown Weddings, was intense.

  Her response was simple. " I accept your offer."

  She was relieved to shuck the ugly pseudo Grecian mini dress that she had been saddled with. She looked through her closet and settled on a dress she hadn't worn in a few years. It was a sapphire blue velvet and slid over her punished bare bottom with a cool shiver. She pulled on some boots and twisted her hair off of her neck.

  "You look gorgeous, sweetheart," he said. Against all of her inclinations, she was forced to agree. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes were bright. Something about those Nelson men made the women they loved radiant. He caught her eye in the mirror as he stepped up to help clasp her necklace. "Something you can think about for the next few hours is that I am giving you the hardest spanking you have ever ever had later tonight. No matter how tired I am, no matter how late it is, when we wrap things up, I am roasting that bottom."

  She knew. She would be pouring cocktails, or hugging delighted guests or being congratulated on the wedding cake and she would suddenly remember just how much trouble she was in. Not sympathetically rubbing her bottom required an act of will.

  CassCooks Blog Post

  Wedding bells

  Dear friends, there are people who come into our lives, and then there are people who change our lives forever. Hazel Nelson Miller has graced my life with her wit, her energy and with the incredible son she raised. We have gotten pretty used to weddings around here. But this was unlike any we have ever hosted. The weather was horrific, which was not unexpected since it was Alaska in February. Alaskans love a party and nothing scares them, which is why, totally against common sense, everyone who has ever been anywhere near Slicktrench arrived. Early, on time, late, no one cared. The bride did not make a sudden appearance. She greeted every guest at the door with a giant hug, in a pale blue gown, a beaded cardigan and warm winter boots. Once everyone we had ever met was in front of the big fireplace, she turned to her beloved and said, "Hey, old man, wanna do this thing?"

  Indeed he did. Hazel and Lloyd walked down the aisle arm in arm. He wore a gray suit and a plaid vest, and looked dapper as could be. They stopped to embrace their children and I was thrilled to be counted as one of those.

  While Cass threw away the lemon chocolate nightmare, the Nelson boys fired up the grills. Soon salmon and steaks were grilling. Libby helped Cass set out the birthday/now wedding cake. Lloyd sidled by and nudged a finger-full of frosting off. "Mmm, delicious."

  "I am sorry it's pink—I was planning it as a birthday cake."

  Lloyd shook his head. "It's perfect. And anyway, real men eat pink."

  Cass suddenly missed Jen like a tidal wave, there was no one here who would recognize the low hanging fruit of snark potential. Or maybe, there was. "Well, they do in slick trench…" whispered Libby.

  ***

  Late late that night, once the newlyweds had retired to Cottage Two, and Torsten, Libby and Gina had flopped down in front of the TV with an enormous bowl of popcorn, Killian wrapped his hand around the crook of her arm. "You being embarrassed doesn't worry me at all. You deserve to be, but no one else has to be freaked out by the punishment you have earned," he whispered as he led her out the door. She could only swallow hard, and nervously nod in agreement. It was very dark, and the ice colored trees stood up in contrast to the velvet night sky. She didn't think he would make her pull her dress up out in the biting cold. She was prepared to obey him though. She was dying to sort out the details, but now was not the time. They would have it all. Killian was giving it all to her, the excitement of a career and the security of a lifetime commitment with a real man. He led her to Cottage Eight—the farthest cottage from the lodge and the one she had first stayed in back when all of this was not even imagined. He'd lit the fire so the cabin was warm. He helped her off with her coat. She was dreading the lecture. She had been entirely in the wrong, and that thought alone brought her nearly to tears.

  In two steps he had positioned himself on the bed and moved her between his knees. He pulled her over his knees and tossed her skirts back. She had read a lot of 'punishment journals' where women described the protocol of a formal punishment spanking. This was not that. This was a furious husband's palm meeting the tender bottom of a wife who had disappointed him deeply. "I brought you out here, because you're going to be crying really really loudly." Her legs were already pinned, and he slapped her bottom with blistering force. Over and over and over.

  "I'm sorry," she wailed, with no expectation that her admission would shorten her punishment in any way. She said it anyway, because she was sorry, she was truly sorry. Killian was not appeased. He paused for a second and reached past her. "Oh my God," she thought, "he has a stockpile of things to paddle me with out here…"

  He moved a pillow closer to her. "Go ahead, cry into the pillow as hard as you need to, baby." He resumed spanking her. "I am going to have a wife who doesn't lie to me."

  There were no words. She gave herself over to heartfelt sobs. She surprised herself by reaching her hand back, not to protect herself but to twine her fingers through his where his hand held her firmly over his lap. She wanted to connect with him in every conceivable way. He paused to remind her, in no uncertain terms, that she would never ever ever consider keeping things from him again. She was too overcome to even talk. She could not even answer him, she let the remorse roll out of her like a wave, carrying her along. He allowed her to cry it out, and she cried long and hard after he was finished. Once she had caught her breath, he led her into the bathroom and turned her around. She could see her scorched bottom in the mirror. He ran his fingers possessively along the deeply scarlet plump curves.

  "This is what happens to girls who lie to their husbands." He lifted his hand and delivered a crisp spank. "If you can't remember unless your bottom is on fire, then I will spank you every day if I have to." He was back in a swatting groove again and she didn't dare move out his way. "I deserve your trust, young lady. I haven't done anything to make you think I would not move to the ends of the earth for you."

  She put her hand on his shoulder. "Wait." She'd had a thought but it was fleeting and she needed the throb in her ass to abate so that she could mentally connect the dots. He paused. "I hurt your feelings." She was gob smacked.

  He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "Yes, you hurt my feelings." She began to cry again. She had been trying to avoid hurt feelings. He drew her in with such gentleness that it was hard to believe that it was the same man who had just delivered a spanking that she would feel for days. They moved in front of the fire. He threw the blankets from the bed into a pile on the floor. "Here, baby, lay down." Her bottom was hot and aching but it didn't occur to her to do anything but obey him. "No, no, on your back, silly girl." She lay back and he slid down her body. He cupped his strong hands under her bottom and lifted her up to devour her with his tongue. Before the orgasm hit, she had a wave of laughter when the thought occurred to her—'Real men do indeed eat pink in Slicktrench'.

  He lavished her body with tenderness. He took her with infinite gentleness and patience. As if she were a soap bubble and might break.

  They snuck back into their own beds in the middle of the night. As she climbed into bed, her hip knocked her Kindle off of the bedside table. The device turned on and the screen displayed 'If you still have desires of your own, you have failed as a submissive'. "Thanks, but no thanks, slave lady." She laughed as she picked it up.

  "Okay, Hazel," he said.

  "Hazel? Oh, I guess that did sound like something she would say. Remember my first night here when she said, "Don't you call me Mrs. Nelson, I am cooking your lemon cumin chicken."

  "Yeah, who's the slave lady? Wanna fill me in?"

  She snuggled up to him, carefully laying on her side. Actually the cool sheets felt good against her throbbing skin, but only for a few seconds, then it was warm and seemed to increase the throbbing. Even unencumbered by covers, it felt like her bottom had it
s own heartbeat. It occurred to her that since she had always longed for this, in a weird way her bottom did have its own heartbeat; but really it was much too late for such profound thoughts. She told her husband about the books she'd been reading.

  "Why didn't you tell me this stuff was worrying you?"

  "Because that's not how these things work!"

  "Who says?"

  "All those people who write those books—they all agree. Once you are someone's sub, you don't get to choose. You obey or you have failed." When she mentioned that she wanted to be one with him but would really rather not have to eat out of a bowl on the floor, he laughed so hard he nearly knocked her off of the bed. Only his quick reflexes saved her.

  "Oh my God, Cass, I am going to use that Kindle as target practice."

  She was defensive. "Well, I don't want a train wreck of resentment."

  He was inclined to laugh at her, but he reigned it in and said lightly, "Nor do I." He said with insincere seriousness," Pray continue…"

  "And I don't want us to separate after thirty-four years."

  "We won't."

  "Well, I know you and my dad are both mad at my mom and I am trying to avoid..."

  He interrupted her, "Whoa. Your dad is being a sixty-five-year-old baby. Your mom wants to be a teacher; he can give her that. God knows she supported his career all their lives. It makes her happy; he can act like a grown up."

  She lifted herself up on her elbows. "But, honey, you are a dominant. You aren't supposed to think like that."

  He shook his head. "Definitely target practice!" He mimed tossing her Kindle into the air and shot it with his finger. "Boom!"

  "Cassandra Elyse Harper-Nelson, I have a dominant personality. When you don't live up to the things we have agreed upon, I will paddle your pretty little bottom purple. That's not exactly like other peoples' marriages, true. But, sweetheart, I am your husband. I am not interested in being some sort of general expert on whipping people. I want to be an expert at loving Cass—my Cass. My funny, and smart and pretty and stubborn Cassie." He twined a finger through one of her curls.