“Ye-yes, Sir,” Quincy whispered, her mind whirling. She couldn’t deny the spanking had hurt, but knew her tears weren’t caused by physical pain. It had been a relatively short and easy spanking. Her tears came at the realization that she felt as if she’d come home, her soul filled with a sense of belonging, of rightness in being exactly where she was. Of course, that thought had her realizing that she was a woman in her sixties, lying half naked across a man’s lap. Embarrassment flooded through her and yet wasn’t allowed to totally consume her at his next words.
“You have a beautiful little fanny,” he said, his fingers softly stroking across her heated skin. “Soft and sexy and flushed such a pretty shade of pink.” Surprise and pleasure replaced embarrassment as Henry gave her bottom a final caress before pulling her panties into place. After lowering her skirt, he helped her up before pulling her down onto his lap. The same hand that had just scalded her ass now caressed her cheek, his thumb wiping the tears away before his lips took hers. Heat surged through her as her arms went around him. Anyone who understood what it meant to submit would understand how you could go from accepting the pain of a needed correction to the consuming desire to be loved after that correction was over.
Forget the lottery, Henry felt as if he possessed the only ticket that had the winning Power Ball number and he’d be willing to forfeit every dime as long as this woman stayed in his arms. Her trust had been an incredible gift that he would always treasure. Her response to his announcement that he was staking his claim had filled his soul. He kissed her until they were both breathless before pulling away to tuck her head against his chest. Her hand found his, their fingers entwining. He grinned as she gave a soft moan and then a softer sigh as he adjusted her slightly so that she wasn’t sitting directly on her spanked bottom. Oh, and what a beautiful bottom. Any man who thought that stick-thin women were preferable had obviously never held a woman who was soft and cuddly. Visions of her buttocks flattening beneath his palm before springing back with a quiver had his cock straining against his jeans. His free hand drifted to cup her bottom cheek, his fingers gently stroking against her skirt as she moved to look up at him, the sheen of her tears gone to be replaced with a glaze of desire.
As much as he hated to do so, he gave her one last gentle kiss before patting her bottom. “Let’s go share those brownies.” Seeing the look in her eyes, he cupped her face between his palms. “First step, remember? I promise you there will be many, many more.” At her nod, he helped her from his lap and they returned to the kitchen. Quincy took her seat slowly as if expecting to be unable to sit. He grinned knowing her bottom might be tender but it was far from causing her undue discomfort. The microwave made quick work of heating up their coffee and by the time he returned to the table, she was breaking the large brownie into two pieces.
“Thank you,” Henry said, bending down and kissing her cheek.
“For what?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “The welcome, the apology, the brownie or taking my just due?”
“For each and every one of those, but I meant thank you for being you and for being right here in my new home.”
“You’re welcome.” She stood and took their mugs to the sink and quickly rinsed them before putting them in the dishwasher. “It’s still early, how would you like some help unpacking? At least we could get the kitchen into shape so that you won’t have to use a wooden stirrer.”
Henry thought it was a great idea.
“That’s the last one,” Henry said two hours later as he broke down another box. “Well, the last one for in here.” The kitchen was now recognizable as a place to cook with pots, pans and dishes neatly put away.
“It’s a good start,” Quincy said as she put a pitcher she’d filled with water into the refrigerator. “Poor thing looks awfully lonely,” she quipped.
“I agree,” Henry said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “How about I treat you to lunch tomorrow in Denver? You can show me the best places to stock up.”
“I’d like that. I need to restock as well.”
“Then it’s a date,” Henry said, turning her in his arms and dropping his head to kiss her. “I’ll pick you up at ten. We can get some lunch and then hit the store.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Give me your phone and address.”
“Oh my God!” Quincy said. “I totally forgot!”
“Forgot what?”
“I promised to call Venia and let her know… um, how my apology went.” He watched as her cheeks flushed. Grinning, he kissed her cheek and patted her rump.
“Tell her it went exceptionally well, at least from my point of view.” He adored the giggle she gave. “In fact, if you’re not adverse to two dates in one day, I’d like to invite them to join us for dinner tomorrow night. I feel I owe Venia a treat for persuading you to give me a chance. We don’t have to share every detail with them, friends or not.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Quincy said. “And, perhaps I should warn you now. Though I wouldn’t ever want to live anywhere else, you’ll discover that very little escapes attention here.” She grinned even as she shook her head. “Are you familiar with how a phone tree works?”
“Yes, I think so. It’s where you call one person, they call the next and so on. The message is passed along without one person having to do all the calling. My wife used one when she was involved in the PTA.”
“Exactly, so don’t let it upset you if you discover people tend to know far more about your business or, um, making jokes about seeing my van was at your house until the wee hours.”
“Honey, I’ll only be upset if it isn’t parked there regularly or mine is at your place.” He bent and kissed her long and hard until she was a bit breathless when he released her.
It took a bit of searching to find her cell phone. Henry finally found it between the cushions of the couch and grinned as he handed it to her. “Guess it fell out when I slipped your skirt up.”
He thought her blush adorable as she turned on her phone.
“Good grief, forget about that phone tree being activated,” she said as her finger moved to scroll through the screen. “I think everyone I know has left a message.”
“I’m sorry, Quincy. It really doesn’t bother me, but I certainly didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Quincy said with a grin. “Don’t you think it could be a lark? Imagine them all wondering what happened? Did I make my apology and did that handsome cowboy accept it like a proper gentleman or did he demonstrate how our newest eligible bachelor deals with ornery creatures?” She squealed as he popped her backside before pulling her onto his lap, settling onto the couch.
“I suggest you remember these are your friends and they care about you. You wouldn’t really want them to worry would you?”
“Spoilsport.”
“Besides, someone else will have to move in to make that claim true. I told you, I’ve staked my claim on a very sweet and sexy eligible bachelorette.” He kissed her and it was another ten minutes before he watched her type a text message stating she was more than fine and would call them later.
Henry walked her to her van, causing her to laugh when he protested that nobody was hanging out so that he could instigate that phone tree magic.
“Sure, you’re laughing now, but I’m telling you, it will amaze you once you see it in action.”
“I’d rather see you in action,” Henry teased, kissing her before opening her door and helping her inside. “Put your seatbelt on and drive safely or we might give my new neighbors a reason to run outside to discover what all that hollerin’ is about.” He waited until she’d clicked the seatbelt into place. “Good girl, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be ready,” Quincy said as she put the key in the ignition. “Thank you, Henry. I…”
“I know,” Henry said quietly. “Who needs phone tree magic when the magic is already happening between us? Sweet dreams, my magical lady
.”
At the look in her eyes, he almost reached in to pull her from the van. God, he wanted her as he hadn’t wanted anyone in years. Forcing himself to be the gentleman, he closed her door and stood on the driveway until her taillights disappeared. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to the sky, the large moon illuminating the world. “Thank you, God. You created an angel, and I swear I will treat her with only love.” He chuckled as he went back into the house and saw the paddle still on the table. “Even when I paddle that naughty bottom, it will be with love.” Turning out the lights, he took the paddle into the bedroom and set it on top of his dresser. After a quick shower, he climbed into his bed for his first night in his new house. Turning onto his side, he smiled and completed his prayer. “And when I have her next to me in this bed, I swear I’ll do my best to make my own angel sing.”
Chapter 7
By the time they returned to Corbin’s Bend after their trip to Denver, Quincy felt as if she’d known Henry for years. They’d enjoyed brunch at a Cracker Barrel where they’d continued talking about their past, their families, as well as the wonderful community they both now called home. Quincy had been excited to learn that Henry was turning his hobby into a profession.
“I confess I was a trifle worried you were considering opening a store of your own.”
“Not at all. From what I’ve heard, Auntie Q’s Antiques is not only the best antique store around, it offers quite the eclectic collection. I do hope you’ll consider taking some of my pieces on commission after I’ve restored them.”
“That I can definitely do, and I’ll be able to use your services a great deal,” she said, excitedly and then blushed hotly as visions of Vance’s traveling paddle flashed through her head.
“I mean professional services… um, you know, stripping and…”
Henry’s bark of laughter had her shaking her head and fighting back her own giggle as her hand was taken.
Henry helped her from her chair and his voice was low as he led her from the restaurant. “I can only hope that you’ll come to appreciate that I try to provide impeccable service,” he said as he slid an arm around her waist to pull her close while they walked. Once they reached the truck, she felt his hand drop to pat against the back of her jeans, a rush of desire shooting through her. Bending close, Henry spoke again. “I take great pride in my work—whether it includes stripping old varnish to restore an item or stripping off a young woman’s panties to bring proper balance in her life.”
Quincy felt her stomach flip, the memory of the spanking she’d received flashing through her mind. Swallowing hard, she looked up at him and shook her head.
“I’m hardly a young woman. In fact, I’ll be sixty-six in just a few months.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“October eleventh, when’s yours?”
He laughed and helped her into the truck. “Believe it or not, October eleventh and I will also be sixty-six.”
Discovering that he had been born at eleven o’clock in the evening, she giggled and then batted her eyes and gave a soft growl causing Henry to give her a quizzical look. Before he could consider her as losing her mind, she explained. “Little boy, I’m older than you by seven whole hours. That makes me a cougar. Are you sure you can handle an older woman?”
Henry leaned across the seat and cupped her cheek with his palm. When her eyes met his, he smiled. “I’ve always wanted to be seduced by my very own Mrs. Robinson.” He moved the final inch and barely touched his lips to hers before pulling back just the slightest to add, “And being younger only assures I have more stamina.”
She could feel her face heat and her stomach flutter at the look in his eyes. Since she was pretty darn sure that movie didn’t contain a single spanking scene, she squirmed a bit at his promise of stamina. Seeing his grin widen as he kept his eyes locked onto hers, she suddenly had absolutely no witty comeback, her heart beating just a bit faster as possibilities played through her mind.
“It’s okay, honey,” Henry said, his eyes twinkling. “You’ll always be a beautiful young lady to me and when you honor me with the pleasure of your company in my bed, if I am too frisky for you, you can always just beg for mercy.”
His lips claimed hers until she was actually wondering if that lovemaking needed to necessarily take place in a real bed. By the time he started the truck, she was breathless and definitely had no plans of ever begging—well, not for mercy anyway.
They’d spent an hour at the big lot store and then another at a local hardware chain where Henry had purchased additional supplies for his business. On the drive home, they continued to talk, easily laughing as they took breaks to sing along to songs on the radio. They shared the same taste in movies and though he tended to prefer nonfiction dealing with history, they conversed easily about authors they both enjoyed. She told him about the two book clubs and he laughed when told he’d only qualify to join one.
Discovering he had a Kindle, she explained that they could loan books back and forth. “Of course, you might not want to read the ones we choose for the TIH book club. They are what you might consider to be, um, racy.”
“Ah, starting already,” Henry said with a grin as they pulled into her driveway.
“What do you mean? Starting what?”
“Why, seducing me of course,” he said before going around to open her door. He took her hand and helped her from the truck. “Are you hoping I might learn a thing or two from your naughty books?”
Quincy tilted her head back to see him grinning. She smiled and reached up to run her finger down his cheek. Two could play this game. Lifting, she kissed him just as softly as he’d kissed her earlier. “One can only hope.” When he attempted to pull her close, she laughed and shook her head, maneuvering around him to grab a box of groceries. Turning back, she attempted a sultry smile and growled, “I suppose, young man, it all depends on how fast you can read.” Dodging out of his reach, she walked to the door, exaggerating the sway of her hips in what she hoped was a seductive manner. He caught up with her before she reached the door, holding a much larger box tucked at his side, his free arm snaking around her waist.
“It’s not how fast you learn the lesson, my dear, it is your dedication to the homework. Want to be my study partner?”
Speechless yet again, she nodded and then squealed when the flat of his hand landed against her backside. “I will warn you that I do believe practice and total immersion in the subject is necessary for complete understanding of the topic. No slacking off on your part or your tushie might not want to sway quite so provocatively after the lesson is done. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” God, it had been ages since she’d flirted and teased and yet hadn’t realized how much she missed it until she’d met this man. As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she could easily visualize him watching every movement she made. It made her feel younger and more feminine than she’d felt in years. It also made her wish the ringing of the school bell was pealing throughout the hallway signaling the start of class.
Henry helped her put away her purchases. When he mentioned that he hadn’t expected to see apartments above businesses in Corbin’s Bend, she’d explained that Brent had arranged for her to be able to convert the second story into her home.
“After Joe died, the house was just too large and I was at a loss of what to do with the rest of my life. I’d always loved antiquing so the store seemed a natural step. It has been a blessing.”
“I’d love to get a look,” Henry said. “As I said, I’ve heard quite a bit about it.” She led him downstairs into the shop only to discover that Abby was busy at work.
“Oh, I didn’t see your car. Honey, you didn’t have to come in today,” Quincy said, though she was pleased to see how much interest Abby continued to have in the business.
“Harris dropped me off. He’s out with the boys and I thought it would be a good idea to get a jump on pricing items for the sale,” Abby explained as she slapped a red price tag on a chair. “I
sort of told everyone what a great sale it would be so I’m expecting a crowd. I’m almost out of red tags and I’d like to ask Henry’s opinion about that butter churn we purchased at the auction.”
Abby led them over to a large pottery crock that had a ceramic lid with a hole in the center. “As you can see, Henry, the churning paddle is missing. Do you think you might be able to fabricate a replacement? I found some photographs on the internet. I’m thinking that even if the paddle is a reproduction, people will pay more if the item is complete.”
“Yes, I could certainly do that,” Henry said. “However, while your thought of its worth might be valid in any other antique shop, I’m thinking it might be a waste of your money based on your clientele.” He grinned and plucked a rattan cane off the wall, sliding it into the hole in the crock. When he picked up another from where it was lying on top of a dresser, swishing it through the air before sliding it into the hole as well, Abby was practically bouncing up and down.
“I support refurbishing but honestly can’t think of anything better than a hundred year old crock to hold and display a cane or two. Price it right and I’m betting you’ll have it sold in no time at all. Antiques are beautiful but even more so when actually repurposed to provide a service don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” Abby said, “no one churns butter anymore, but I’m betting there are some backsides churning quite often. What do you think Aunt Quincy?”
Quincy had felt her face heat the moment she’d seen the implements in Henry’s hand. She suddenly understood how the spankees of the community must view her vast collection—with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation twisting their insides.
“Aunt Quincy?”
“Oh, um, I think we’d better get going before Henry’s groceries spoil.”
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