Protecting Zoe

by Abigail Webster

  "I'm not going to take one cent from my father, ever, Sam," she said flatly.

  "Fine." He stirred the pot again.

  "You say that now, but I really mean it. I have supported myself for the last three years. The money he's given me is sitting in an account. I won't touch it for myself."

  "How have you supported yourself?" he asked curiously.

  She looked at him for a few seconds, then walked to the refrigerator and reached up to take down the tablet that was still lying where she put it yesterday. A quick check told her he hadn't looked at what she'd written. "This is what I do," she held out the pages.

  "You stir," he bossed, taking the papers and giving them his attention. He read, and then looked at her in surprise. "I know you!"

  She giggled at his shocked expression. "You do?"

  "Oh, yeah... I know you. You're good!"

  "Thank you," she blushed.

  "I am impressed, Zoe," he admitted, unable to believe one of his favorite mystery writers was standing in front of him, stirring their lunch. "I'm also proud of you."

  "You are...? Because I write?"

  "Because you don't live off Daddy. It's all adding up now. When you disappear for weeks at a time, you're off writing, right?" he asked.

  "Yes," she admitted. "I have a house of my own." She shook her head, and then said, "You are the only one in the world who knows that. Even my agent and publisher don't know my real name. I have a DBA," she explained, "and it's kept my real name private so far. Besides, who would ever believe that Zoe Rathbourne could write...?"

  "Stop putting yourself down, young lady," he said sternly. He took up their food, and they ate.

  Zoe found herself hopeful that Sam was as sincere as he seemed. There was only one way to find out, and that was once they returned to civilization. In the meantime, she was going to trust him.

  When the meal was over, they did the dishes together, and then Sam took her in his arms and hugged her. "I'm going to get this whipping over with now, honey. I'm going to use my belt, and I'm going to make it very personal. I don't want you to every put yourself at risk again."

  "Your belt," she exhaled on the words.

  "My belt, your ass... until you are raw."

  Zoe nodded. She'd known it was personal... What hired PI would give a damn if it wasn't personal? If it wasn't personal, he would have hauled her to her father, collected his money, and washed his hands of her. If it wasn't personal, he wouldn't have fought for her. He wouldn't have bought her jeans that fit, or tucked her in bed...

  "We'll do this in the bedroom, Zoe." She followed him on legs that were weak, and watched as he piled pillows on the bed. "Your butt right on top, head and arms down so that your butt is as high as you can get it... and Zoe, I want your legs spread wide so that you can't clench those cheeks."

  "Nooooo!" she was embarrassed.

  "Yes, and now," he ordered in a no-nonsense tone of voice, which she responded to immediately. He didn't bother to tell her that he'd already seen everything she had. That could wait until he'd properly bedded her and made her his woman in every way possible.

  Zoe cringed when she heard his belt slide through the loops on his jeans. The sound was menacing, and she knew that he meant it to be this way. He doubled the belt, and then snapped it across her bottom. Zoe cried out, and was positive that she wouldn't have a butt left by the time he finished.

  Sam took his time. He scolded, demanded promises, and exacted them from her. He made her cry, and knew that what she suffered was nothing compared to what those three men would have done to her if they'd had the opportunity. He gave her a thrashing she would never forget as long as she lived, and only when he was positive she couldn't take one more lick, did he stop.

  Her ass and thighs were swollen, striped and bruised, and he knew the kindest thing he could do right now was let her sleep. He gently pulled the pillows from underneath her limp body, and tucked her in. He leaned down and kissed her. Then rubbed her back until she fell asleep, wondering if she would ever speak to him again.

  It was dark in the cabin when Zoe woke up, and she was in terrible pain. Her backside throbbed and felt swollen to twice its normal size. She needed to go to the bathroom, but moving was simply too painful. Sam had reduced her to a whimpering mass of aches, pains, throbbing, and bruised flesh that she was positive would never heal! The bedroom door opened a crack, and light streamed into the room.

  "You're awake," Sam said, walking over to the bed. "You need to eat something, Zoe," he stated.

  "I can't move," she told him.

  "I'm sure you don't feel like moving," he sympathized. "Need the bathroom?" he asked.

  "Yes, but I can't... ohhhhhh!" she moaned when he lifted her from the bed.

  "I'm going to take care of you now," he promised, cradling her in his arms and carrying her through the kitchen and into the bathroom. "Sit real easy, and I'll run some hot water in the tub. It'll help some with the soreness."

  "Why are you being so nice to me now?" she asked.

  "Just because you earned a whipping doesn't mean that I want you to be so sore you can't move, honey," he stated, turning on the water. "Go pee, Zoe. I'm not going to leave you alone in here when you're feeling so bad."

  Zoe didn't argue. How could she? If she tried to walk, she'd probably fall on her face. She relieved herself, and then needed help getting up. He helped her to the tub, and before she could protest, he pulled the shirt over her head, picked her up, and plunked her into the warm water. She yelped when it made contact with her skin, but once the initial pain passed, the water seemed to help a bit, even though the porcelain was hell on her bottom.

  "I'll come back and help you out in a few minutes," Sam promised. "I'm going to fix you something to eat."

  "Noooo!" she moaned. "I don't want to eat..."

  "Sorry, sweetheart, you need to eat something..." he said firmly. He'd known she was going to be sore, but he hated it. He heated up soup and put it in a bowl, put some crackers on a plate, poured a tall glass of milk for her, and put everything on a tray and carried it into the bedroom. He put the tray on the nightstand, and straightened the bed to make it comfortable. Then he went to help her out of the tub. "Okay, Zoe, time to get out." He grabbed a towel, stood her up, and wrapped her body before lifting her out to stand on the bath mat.

  Zoe dried herself off then let him slip the dorm shirt over her head. He quickly brushed her hair, then said, "Can you walk now?"

  She moved slowly... every muscle was screaming at her, but she was certainly better now than she was a few minutes earlier. "I can walk," she said. "Sam, I don't ever want another whipping like that one."

  "Zoe, I don't ever want to have to give you another whipping like that one... especially on top of a switching like you got yesterday, but I can tell you that is exactly what you will get if you ever give me reason." He saw her look at the table. "No, not here. You're going back to bed."

  Zoe didn't argue. The bed was softer than those wooden chairs.

  "If you lie on your side, you should be comfortable enough to eat," he suggested, and once she was on her side, he moved pillows to help her stay propped up. "How's that?"

  "Better," she smiled. "I'm hungry," she confessed.

  "Vegetable soup," he said.

  She ate, drank her milk, then lay on her tummy. "I'm miserable, Sam."

  "It will go away, sweetheart, but what those three guys would have done would have been with you for the rest of your life... and mine," he said gently. "I took no pleasure in making you cry, Zoe, and it doesn't please me to see you so sore right now. What will please me is seeing you behave yourself the next few days..."

  "You have my word," she agreed.

  Sam carried the tray to the kitchen, washed up the dishes, then made the cabin secure for the night. He shut off the light, then joined Zoe in the bed, and kissed her goodnight. They talked in the dark for a good long while, and when they woke the next morning, Zoe had her arm thrown over his chest and her head
was resting on his shoulder. It seemed natural.

  Sitting was impossible, and Sam didn't insist. Zoe was finally sharing her inner most self with him, and he had a feeling the spoiled rich girl act was a thing of the past. Their nights were spent snuggling, but Zoe wasn't ready to give herself completely, and Sam respected her wishes in that regard.

  The one time her redheaded temper flared, Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at her in warning. Zoe immediately settled, and he gave her a hug. Neither of them wanted another spanking.

  "I kind of hate the thought of going back tomorrow," Sam told her.

  "I don't want to see my father," she said softly.

  "You need to talk this out with him, honey. I'll be right there with you, I promise."

  "I don't want him to know about my writing. He'd manage to spoil it somehow."

  "That is your choice," Sam agreed. "You will apologize for the kidnapping stunt, though."

  "I will do that," she said, "but I don't want to."

  He patted her still tender bottom, "I'll be with you..."

  The drive didn't take long enough in Zoe's opinion. But, they reached the city, and Sam drove straight to her father's offices. "Aren't we going to wait and see him at his house?" she asked. "I'm not wearing make-up and I'm in jeans."

  "You aren't hiding any more, young lady. This is the real you, and if your father doesn't approve, then it's his loss. Understand? You are mine now, and I don't want to see you putting that junk on your face and wearing clothes that make you look like something you aren't."

  "Oh Sam, I don't know whether to kiss you or smack you sometimes!" she declared.

  "Kissing is the only acceptable choice of the two," he grinned at her, taking her hand and pulling her into the elevator with him.

  "Oh! Miss Rathbourne! Is something wrong?" her father's secretary asked, flustered. "Your father is with a client right now!"

  "He's always with someone, Harriet," she said bitterly. "Tell him I'm here, and staying five minutes. If he wants to see me, he will. If not, I'm gone."

  "Settle down, Zoe," Sam warned.

  Harriet buzzed her boss' office and told him that Zoe was waiting to see him. He was out the door before she stopped speaking, moving as fast as he could. "My God, Zoe! Are you all right?" he demanded, coming close to look at her in concern.

  "I'm fine."

  "You look different," he answered, and his disapproval was evident on his face.

  "This is the real Zoe, Mr. Rathbourne," Sam said quietly. "You have something to say to your father, young lady...?" he prompted the redhead.

  "I apologize for faking my kidnapping."

  Short, sweet, and to the point! Sam shook his head. Zoe wasn't going to give an inch.

  "Why did you do it," Harry demanded, his voice hard and angry.

  "I wanted the money for a special project of mine, the one you wouldn't donate to," she told him.

  "Zoe, you shouldn't be involved with those people!" he proclaimed.

  "Why not?"

  "It isn't safe!"

  "And it's safe for these women on the streets? Do you know how much more dangerous it is for a woman to be homeless, Daddy? How helpless they are?"

  "Zoe, why can't you help raise money for a new wing at the hospital... or..."

  "The hospital doesn't need a new wing. It needs a program to treat homeless women who are ill," she countered.

  "I won't have you squandering my money on such foolishness. Those people can get a job and work for a living... You are grounded. Go home and to your room and stay there."

  Zoe looked at Sam. "See what I mean?"

  "I don't know what Zoe's been telling you, Sam, but it's high time I put a stop to her foolishness. You're check will be delivered to your office tomorrow. As for you, Zoe, you are going to be locked in your room until you can be trusted."

  "Mr. Rathbourne, you aren't giving Zoe a chance..."

  "This stunt of hers cost me half a million, Ross. It was an expensive price to pay for a switching, but what's done is done! She has embarrassed me for the last time!"

  "He paid you that much...?" Zoe looked at Sam in shocked surprise, feeling as though she'd been punched in the stomach. What man could resist that kind of money?

  "Why else would anyone put up with your temper, daughter?" Harry Rathbourne retorted.

  "Why else indeed," Zoe replied, and then said, "I'm not a little girl any more, Daddy. I wish you and your money well." She turned and stomped out of the office.

  "What the hell did she mean by that? You'd better follow her, Ross, and make sure she goes home."

  "I have every intention of following her, Mr. Rathbourne," Sam replied, and proceeded to tell the man what he thought. "Zoe was right. You care more for your money and social standing than you do about her. You didn't care that she was kidnapped, just that it might make YOU look bad. You say the right things in public, but in private, you treat Zoe without a bit of love and respect."

  "How I treat my daughter is my business," the man was furious.

  "Not any more, Mr. Rathbourne. Zoe is mine. You take your money and stuff it." Sam turned on his heel and marched out of the office, anxious to find Zoe and comfort her. Zoe wasn't in the hallway, and she wasn't waiting in the lobby either. Sam couldn't find her on the street, and within a few minutes he realized she'd run from him... again! How could she do that? And why hadn't he realized she would? She was wounded... had assumed the worst about him, and she was running from the pain.

  Sam was a good PI. He worked nonstop, following leads, talking to people, and finally he found an address. When he had little Zoe over his knee, she was going to get another lesson in running away!

  ********************

  As Sam pulled in front of the house he hoped and prayed was Zoe's, he noticed a little girl coming around the side of the house. He got out of the car, afraid he was about to be disappointed. Zoe didn't have a child...

  "Mister, Zoe won't hear you if you knock. She's in the back yard planting a rose bush."

  "Thank you, honey," Sam smiled at the child as she took off running down the sidewalk, and then started around the house. It was his Zoe, and she was planting roses! She missed him!

  ********************

  One week... One whole week, and she still couldn't concentrate on her writing! She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and all she could think of was Sam Ross. The man had seemed so real, so sincere. Her father was willing to pay the man half a million dollars to give her a switching, but he wouldn't give one penny to help women who were suffering on the streets with no where to go, and no one to turn to. And Sam... was he laughing at her right now? Thinking he'd earned every last penny? At least she hadn't slept with him... and she'd wanted to. She still wanted to.

  "Better dig that hole a bit deeper, Zoe," Sam advised.

  "Sam...? How did you find me?" she demanded, getting to her feet and wiping her hands on her snug fitting jeans.

  Sam took the shovel, and made the hole a bit deeper. "I'm a detective, and a good one. And, I'm going to spank you for thinking the worst of me and running away from me again, little girl!"

  Her chin went straight up in the air. "Did my father pay you five hundred thousand dollars to switch me?" she demanded, watching as he set the bush, added water from the hose, then filled the hole..

  "He offered to, and I accepted... but that was when I thought you were a spoiled rotten brat. That all changed, Zoe, I think it was the minute you took those jeans out of the bag and were so pleased they were jeans and in your size, or maybe it was when you ate the oatmeal without complaining... but definitely when I woke up to find a blanket over me... I loved you for sure by then," he said, then added, "I told your Dad to stuff the money." Her brown eyes were huge.

  "Really?"

  "Would I lie to you?" he asked softly.

  "Noooooo?" she guessed, looking at him, and when he smiled, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him happily. "No! No, you wouldn't lie to me... Oh, Sam! You're actually here
!" she kissed him hungrily.

  "I'm here," he held her close.

  "I kept telling myself that if you really loved me, you'd find me..." she kissed him hungrily, all her fears and misery replaced with happiness and joy. He made her feel so safe and secure. They stood together for a long time, her head resting on his chest, and his cheek resting on top of her head. "Are you really going to spank me for running away?" she raised her head to look at him.

  He smiled. "What do you think?"

  She chewed on her lower lip a few seconds, and then said, "We'd best go inside, then." She took his hand in hers, and led him into the living room, and over to the sofa. He sat, and pulled her right down over his lap.

  Zoe kicked and squealed, but truth to tell, she was pleased to be exactly where she was! It was Sam's hand, and she'd missed him so much... When he stopped, she thought he was finished, but she soon learned that wasn't the case.

  "Take down those jeans, little girl. I'm going to give you a proper spanking, and I can't do that over clothing."

  Zoe did as she was told. Sam was a man who spanked, and she was a woman who needed a spanking to feel loved and cherished. His hand rested on her tingling bottom for a moment. "I love you, Zoe... and you aren't to run from me ever again!"

  "Oh, I won't, Sam. I love you, too..."

  "You'll take your spanking?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," she replied.

  Sam smiled. He spanked and scolded, and spanked some more. He put her in the corner for a while, just to look at her red bottom, and then he spanked her again. Zoe cried, but she took her spanking just as she promised she would. It was Sam's way of showing her how much he loved her.

  When it was all over, and he'd kissed away her tears, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

  "Are you sure, Zoe?" Sam asked.

  "I'm sure, Sam."

  ********************

  Five years and quite a few spankings later, Zoe and Sam were content and happy with the world they'd created. Zoe tended their small children and still found time to write mysteries, and Sam owned a successful landscaping business. Their yard was the showplace of the neighborhood, with roses providing color and a sweet perfume to the air. But best of all, Zoe felt cherished, loved, and protected.