Corbin's Bend Homecoming
Page 1
Corbin’s Bend Homecoming
Corbin’s Bend Season Four
Ruth Staunton
Tabitha Marks
Rayanna Jamison
Maggie Ryan
Kate Richards
Holla Dean
Blushing Books
©2016 by Blushing Books® and the Authors
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books®,
a subsidiary of
ABCD Graphics and Design
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Corbin’s Bend Season Four
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-556-7
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Contents
FREE Books for Amazon Customers
Ruth Staunton
The Man She Needed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Ruth Staunton
Tabitha Marks
Deceptive Practices
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Tabitha Marks
Rayanna Jamison
A Holiday Ruse
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Rayanna Jamison
Maggie Ryan
Vintage Values
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Note to my Readers
Maggie Ryan
Kate Richards
Her Cowboy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Kate Richards
Holla Dean
Fire in the Rockies
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Holla Dean
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The Man She Needed
Ruth Staunton
©2015 by Blushing Books® and Ruth Staunton
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books®,
a subsidiary of
ABCD Graphics and Design
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Staunton, Ruth
The Man She Needed
eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-133-8
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the Author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter 1
I know, I know,” Norah Walden said soothingly to the large and very angry cat currently bemoaning its fate from inside the carrier in the seat beside her. “We’ll be there soon, I promise.” Maeve’s protestations never faltered. Clearly, she didn’t put much stock in her human’s promises. Norah couldn’t say she blamed her, considering she had made that same promise several times in the last few days. This time, however, they weren’t merely shuffling from one stopping point to the next – an airplane, her parents’ house, another airplane, a hotel room, and finally a car trip. This time, they were actually nearly to their final destination, their new home in Corbin’s Bend, Colorado.
The thought had barely crossed Norah’s mind when the sign announcing the entrance to Corbin’s Bend suddenly appeared up ahead. Norah’s heart immediately sped up at the sight of it. She was finally here. All the months of planning, preparation, hoping, praying, packing, and filling o
ut mound after mound of paperwork had finally come to fruition. She could hardly believe it was real.
She turned into the entrance and made her way down the main street, Spanking Loop. Seeing that name on the sign never failed to amaze her. It seemed unreal that the word that had been Norah’s dirty little secret for most of her life should be right out there in the open as if it were perfectly normal. Except it was perfectly normal here. That was the point of the community and the reason Norah had decided to move. An interest in some form of a spanking relationship was the one thing every member of this housing community had in common, Norah included. The community was specifically designed to be a place where they could live the lifestyle as they chose without fear of condemnation and judgment. As soon as Norah had seen that on the community website during one of her numerous secret late-night forays on the Internet where she lurked anonymously in spanking groups and devoured spanking books and stories by the dozen, she had known she needed to be here. It was time to start over, and Corbin’s Bend was the perfect place to do it.
Not that anyone she knew had understood that, Norah reflected, turning onto the ironically named Main Street, which wasn’t actually the main street in the community – Spanking Loop held that honor – but was where many of the community’s businesses, including her bookstore and its upstairs apartment were located. To hear her mother and her neighbors back East tell it, she might as well have been moving to outer Mongolia. They were scandalized at the idea of her moving out to the wilds of Colorado, as if she were still trying to get there by covered wagon and steam train like the pioneers had done a couple of centuries ago. The fact that Denver was a major city and Corbin’s Bend was only an hour away from it didn’t seem to matter in the slightest. Nor did it matter that she had never really fit in among the university community where her late husband had taught.
John had absolutely thrived among the academic community there. It had been his home in a way it had never really been hers. He had been an academic to the bone, craving the intellectual stimulation the way an athlete needed to compete. Norah might have been the same had she not given up her own studies to go to work and put John through school. She had done it without hesitation, a fully consensual choice, and she didn’t regret it. It was just that spending her days shelving books, scraping old bubblegum from beneath the chairs in the children’s section where some child inevitably deposited it, and selling the very books that John and his colleagues dismissed out of hand simply because they were popular and current as opposed to great literature made it hard for her to relate to their discussions of deep imagery and language in texts hundreds of years old. Norah read and loved books of all kinds and had hated being judged for loving classics and grocery store paperbacks with equal fervor.
That didn’t matter now, she reminded herself. No one was going to judge her here, not for her interest in spanking and not for her books. For once in her life, she was finally free to be herself, without judgments or expectations. Sticking that thought firmly in her mind, she pulled into the small parking lot in front of her store and apartment. She felt a small glow of pleasure at the knowledge that she had managed to make her way unerringly back to her own house. She had always been rather good with remembering landmarks and routes, but it was still no small feat considering she had only been here on short visits months ago. She’d come once for her interview with the housing board and a second time later on after she had been accepted to fill out the paperwork regarding her business. Of course, as much as she had dreamed about this ordinary rather nondescript building, it was no wonder she had practically ingrained the directions into her brain. After all, it might not look like much yet, but it was hers.
“See? I told you we would be here soon,” Norah said to the cat, who had ceased her furious protests when Norah killed the engine. “Just let me get the doors unlocked, and I’ll come back and get you.” After digging around in her purse for her house keys, she pushed open the door and headed rapidly across the parking lot, nearly giddy with anticipation. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Norah opened the front door leading into the lower floor that would become her bookstore.
And stopped dead at the sight of a blond man in jeans and a battered denim jacket standing in the middle of the bare concrete floor. A medium-sized black and white dog immediately jumped up from its place by his side and let out a sharp and surprisingly loud bark. The man turned on his heel, a faint flicker of surprise crossing his eyes at the sight of her.
“What are you doing here?” Norah blurted, too shocked to be worried about being polite.
“I work here,” he replied. “And you?”
“I live here,” Norah told him. Who was he to be questioning whether or not she had the right to be here? He was the interloper. How could he work here anyway? She hadn’t hired any staff yet. Besides, she’d never seen anyone who looked like him working in any bookstore. He was far too muscular to have been doing that kind of work. Why the hell was she noticing what he looked like anyway? Who cared what he looked like? The important thing was finding out what the hell he was doing here.
At her reply, confusion cleared from his face and understanding dawned in his eyes. “Of course you do.” He crossed the room, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know you were coming in today. I’m Caine Landry. I’ll be doing most of your interior finish work.”
His accent surprised her. Though it wasn’t particularly strong, it was faintly southern with a hint of something else running through it. French maybe. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like it belonged in Colorado. “Norah Waldon,” she answered automatically, shaking his hand and valiantly pretending she didn’t notice how warm and strong it was. “I thought Jim O’Brien handled the construction for the community.” It had been Jim with whom she had discussed the construction details, for both the living area upstairs and the store. Jim had never mentioned anyone else.
“He is,” Caine explained. “Jim and his crew do the majority of the work, but he often contracts out with local people for specific jobs. I subcontract with him fairly regularly for specific interior jobs. He knows me and can vouch for me, if that’s what you’re worried about. So could Jerry Douglas or Benjamin Steppings. I’d be glad to give them a call if that would make you more comfortable.”
“No, no, that’s not necessary,” Norah assured him. “I apologize. I’m afraid we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m sure you’re perfectly professional. You just surprised me, that’s all.”
“Yeah,” Caine agreed. “I knew that Jim said you would be in Monday, but I had no idea you were moving in this weekend. I’m not technically working. I just wanted to get in here and get a look around while there was no one here so I could get an idea of what needed to be done.” At this point, the dog, who had clearly had quite enough of being ignored, wedged its way between them, demanding to be petted. Norah smiled, kneeling down and sliding her hands over its head and the soft silky ears.
“Who is this?” she asked, grinning as the dog responded to her petting by going into spasms of energetic wiggles, tail wagging frantically.
“That’s Maverick,” Caine replied, smiling fondly at the dog’s antics. “He’s my best assistant.”
“I’ll bet he is,” Norah said, laughing as the dog clambered all over her, licking enthusiastically.
“Hey, Mav, back off,” Caine commanded, grabbing the dog by the collar and hauling him off of Norah. “Sorry,” he told her. “Mav loves people, but he can get a little overly enthusiastic sometimes.”
“It’s fine,” Norah replied. “He doesn’t bother me a bit. I love animals.” She got to her feet and wiped her now rather slobbery hands on the sides of her jeans.
“I can see that,” Caine said, smiling. “Do you have any of your own?”
“Oh crap,” Norah blurted, frantic. “Maeve!” Some kind of responsible pet owner she was. One look at a new guy, albeit a very cute new guy, and his equally adorable dog, and she’d forgotten all abo
ut her own pet. Maeve was probably furious by now and rightly so. She spun on her heel, heading for the door, but Caine caught her arm and stopped her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I forgot my cat in the car,” she explained, instinctively pulling away. “I was only coming in to unlock the door so that I wouldn’t have to fumble with the keys and her carrier then I was going to go back and bring her in, but you were in here, and I started talking to you...” And she had completely forgotten her cat. Her closest companion, who had been with her during those awful days after John’s death. Remembering her late husband, her heart sank even lower. What was she doing? She’d been married to the love of her life for ten years and now she was acting like a teenager because the carpenter working on her store happened to be good-looking. What the heck was she thinking?