Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  The crowd roared and her confidence soared. Cash rained upon the stage. Many summoned her and she approached them allowing them to place their tips in her bottoms, or her mouth. Swaying to the music, she played and teased with her boa across her bare breasts. Stepping to the right, she let Daisy take the spotlight as rehearsed. Trapping one end of the boa under her shoe, she yanked on it while relaxing her leg not stiffening it.

  Losing her balance, her knee slammed into the stage and her torso followed. Planting her palms in front of her, she lifted her shoulders and breasts realizing she landed right smack in front of a customer. The lights played havoc with her vision. Not that it surprised her to have a man ogling her breasts, but she felt the intensity in his stare. Raising her eyes, she glimpsed a furor in his eyes before he became enveloped in darkness again. Looking down she noticed her necklace she never took off rotated from behind her neck and under her hair. Her brother gave it to her and this man focused on it.

  She figured it cost a fair amount, Australian Opals, a unique, lovely piece, but not something anyone might take note of the way this man fixated on it. It meant more to her because it came from her brother. He bought it years before he met his wife, April. Back when he and his hot best friend, Jake, took impromptu road trips. This he picked up in Santa Fe. Before she had time to react to her revelation, fingers clamped down over her upper arms. He dragged her off the stage. Kicking her legs, her feet, she searched for anything to halt this onslaught. He had a tight grip on her which gave him the ability to keep her upper body from crashing with the table he vacated. Her lower half didn’t fare as well. Her left knee plopped on the table causing the table to rock and flip to its side. This rotated her body smashing her to the floor on her right thigh.

  It didn’t end there. Their eyes met for a second. Long enough for her to understand this wasn’t over. Bending toward her, his left arm encircled her waist hauling her up from the dirty concrete floor. Her feet dangled in front of him, her doe-tailed butt in the air. Even with the music blaring, it didn’t mute the crack of the first thwack against her bare flesh. She yelped unable to fathom he spanked her, a hard spanking, and in public. He got a few more strikes in before the bouncers arrived.

  Finding herself on her hands and knees, she looked up in time to see him receive a punch in the jaw. “No! Don’t hurt him!” she screamed as they forced him out of the building. By the time she found the ability to stand, she ran out to find him, but didn’t see him anywhere. Her knees shook and she found it difficult to breathe. Leaning forward she rested her hands on her upper thighs. Jake. When was the last time she saw him before him tonight? When she was in high school and he came over to the house for Thanksgiving? Would he tell her brother that he saw her here? She never expected anyone to find out. With Jose’s Jewels being an hour and half from her hometown, she thought she could keep it a secret.

  Charmyn, one of the floor girls approached her. “Shit! What the hell just happened in there? Jose is livid.” Crouching in front of Rebecca, she peered into her face. “Are you okay? You’re pretty bloody. Let’s get you inside and clean you up some.”

  A few other women rushed out joining them. A whirlwind of questions and comments circulated, but Rebecca heard little. She needed to focus on damage control. Serious damage control.

  SPEEDING OUT OF THE parking lot, he left a trail of flying gravel and dust. If he didn’t get out of there and stay out of there, he knew the evening would end with him in handcuffs. He couldn’t believe Becca worked there. He couldn’t believe that was Becca. She had the same doe-eyes...he punched his palm into the steering wheel and shook his head to erase that memory. Go figure. Until one of the guys on the sheetrock team at one of his jobs mentioned some new meat at Jose’s titty bar, he hadn’t given it a thought. It had been years since he went there. Back before he and Corinne got together.

  Arriving almost an hour before the “special” performance, he managed to get a seat in front of the stage. Nothing exceptional caught his eye in that time. He enjoyed a few beers. The music got louder and they announced the girls one by one as they made their entrance. They had his attention. All dressed in brown g-string bikinis, reindeer ear headbands, fluffy tails, and each played up the asset the announcer named them for as they strutted out.

  The last one came out. She had long, straight, brown hair that hung down her back. Referred to as “Busty” and it couldn’t have been more appropriate. This chick had a rack that could make a grown man cry. They weren’t grotesquely huge, but more than a handful, and perfectly round and perky. Stepping to the music, she marched around on the stage stopping in front of him, her back to him. He observed she didn’t have anything warranting any shame in the ass area, either. Tight, little perfect globes wiggled before his eyes. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. He found her mesmerizing, though her dancing sucked, she had confidence in her body and understood how to play up her assets. He had confidence in that body, too. Confident he wanted her. Under him, over him, in front of him. Watching her gave him a raging hard-on.

  He bounced his leg impatiently for the breasts reveal. Most dancers had breast augmentation, but he believed hers were real. The anticipation might kill him. His excitement reminded him of when he was eight years old sneaking into the basement and pulling out his dad’s hidden Playboy magazines. Tugging on the strings behind her back, the suit top loosened. As he imagined, her boobs dropped a little. Seductively lifting it over her head, she flung it to the side. Swaying her shoulders, the slight bounce in her tits enthralled him. They were masterpieces.

  Just his luck that the first woman that evoked more than the desire to “wham bam thank you ma’am” since Corinne made a living dancing and teasing men. Best if he just left. Spending several hundred dollars on a woman that had no intention of allowing him to worship and pleasure her for hours and hours held no appeal. Scanning the area behind him for his server he missed what he determined to be a major mishap in her routine.

  He found himself staring straight down a slender neck into the valley between her breasts. A flicker got his attention. The pendant around her neck, he’d seen it before. Recalling the first time he saw blue opals, he realized the design and knew he recognized it. Shoving his chair back, he stretched out his arms abducting her from the stage.

  Shit. Why did he react like that? He understood it shocked him to find Blake’s kid sister stripping, but that didn’t excuse him forcing her offstage and... What did he do? Punish her? He never behaved that way with a woman before. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He felt like an asshole. After admiring her and desiring her, thinking he didn’t stand a chance, to find out that he knew her. Not any way in hell he would allow other men to enjoy what he himself wanted. He needed to kill any of those types of thoughts. She was Blake’s sister. He needed to stay away from her. Far away.

  It had to be just a protective instinct. That’s all. Nothing else.

  LIFTING THE BOTTLE, she gulped some more of the most expensive wine the club offered. The girls tended to her wounds, Jose reamed her over the whole spectacle occurring in “his” rightful establishment, and she knew her stint ended for the evening.

  After slipping on some leggings and a t-shirt she retrieved Jake’s license from the doorman and his credit card from the bartender. Not before purchasing the wine, on him, that would have set her back several nights’ tips. Parked in front of the address from his license, she didn’t observe any movement in the house, but the front room lights were on. Maybe the television. What if he moved since he got his license?

  Taking a few more swigs, she stumbled out of her car, bottle in hand. Crossing the street, she traipsed through the front yard. Liquid courage she reminded herself. Now or never. After several finger punches to the area surrounding the doorbell, she made contact. She thought she heard movement from inside when the door flung open. He held an ice pack to his jaw and he didn’t look any less angry than earlier.

  Tossing the ice pack to the floor, he grabbed her elbow and
jerked her inside slamming the door behind her. Being slightly inebriated, maybe really inebriated, she faltered, sinking to the carpet on her right side. Holding the bottle out and above her head she announced, “And I didn’t sp...spill a drop.”

  Crossing his arms across his chest, he glowered at her. He still set her insides aflutter. Dang he looked good.

  “Damn, Becca. What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

  She assumed he didn’t share her appreciation. Not the greeting she hoped for.

  “Noth...nothing wrong with me. Wh... what’s wrong with you?” Tilting her head to meet his glare straight on, she tensed her chin in an attempt to show defiance.

  Yanking the wine out of her hand, he set it on an end table. Lugging her up from the floor he shoved her in a chair. “Did you drive drunk?” He stood over her, his brown eyes bore into hers.

  “I did not. I opened it when I got here. Dr...drank it in my car.”

  Placing a hand on each of the armrests, he lowered his face in front of hers. “What are you doing here?”

  She stopped her true answer from exiting her mouth. The true answer being that she always had a crush on him, and he knew it, and maybe now that he saw her tonight as a woman, and not his best friend’s kid sister, he might take her in his arms and do all the things to her she wanted for so long.

  “I brought your license and credit card back,” she managed to say instead. And, without slurring her words this time.

  “I appreciate that seeing how I’m banned from entering the club ever again. I’m positive you won’t be returning, either.” He never blinked, the gravity of his comment understood.

  Twisting her head away from him, she declared, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  His tone turned demeaning. “What were you doing up there, anyway? You weren’t raised that way. You like a bunch of drunk horny men leering at you?”

  Whipping her head back around, she contended, “How dare you. I like—liked you and you were one of them. It’s no different than going to the beach or a night club, except I get paid. And very well I might add.”

  “You won’t do it again,” he commanded.

  Averting her eyes, his displayed his conviction. “You can’t tell me what to do,” she protested.

  In a flurry of movement, she found herself across his lap. He now sat in the chair, her face smashed into the carpet. Snatching her leggings down below her ass, he roared as he smacked her alternating cheeks in a repetitive cycle she thought would never end.

  “You like showing your ass so much, well let’s see it!”

  Each swat stung more than the last. Wiggling to free herself, he straightened his free arm between her shoulders ramming her cheek harder into the carpet. The initial stings of the slaps transformed into a radiating burn that didn’t dissipate in the space of time he took to attend the other side and return.

  “Stop! Jake, stop! It hurts.”

  Dipping lower, he hit the spaces below her butt at the top of her legs. “It’s supposed to hurt Becca. You aren’t to go back there.”

  It seemed he had no intention of stopping until he heard what he wanted. He must be aware of the tears she shed that dampened the rough fibers against her face. She dreaded and flinched each time he lifted his palm knowing that no matter where it landed, it throbbed. His diligence in his endeavor to not leave any spot unscathed, several times over, paid off. She wailed and if she endured one more strike she actually feared what may occur. She found herself in an unimaginable limbo between pain, and an indescribable pleasure.

  “Stop! Okay! Okay.”

  And he stopped. Like a light switch. He rested his palm over her aching flesh. She stopped crying a few minutes later. He gave her butt a few soft caresses before he loosened his hand at her shoulders, pulled up her pants gently, and flipped her over into his arms. Standing he carried her out of the room and down a hall. She found herself placed in a bed before he rubbed her head then turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

  She didn’t know the worst thing that happened that night. Discovered dancing at a strip club? Pulled off stage at the strip club by her first crush? Drinking a whole bottle of wine knowing she had to work early in the morning? Receiving a punishing spanking from her crush and an odd part of herself began to like it? Love it.

  Relieved, she found an alarm clock on the nightstand, she set it. She had no idea where she left her phone and had no intention of leaving this room until she raced out in the morning.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ACCUSTOMED TO ACHES, pains, and bruises, Rebecca didn’t give it too much thought the next morning. She managed to leave unnoticed from Jake’s. She showed up at the bakery on time, barely, and worked her shift. Her head hurt more than anything else did. Thankful she had no classes due to the holiday break, she went to her apartment and napped a few hours before showing up at Jose’s Jewels.

  Bypassing everyone up front, she went to her station and started applying her makeup, relieved she didn’t look as bad as she still felt. Twisting in her chair, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder, Terrie questioned, “Have you talked to Jose? He was pretty furious last night.”

  Taking off her pants, it shocked her seeing all the bruises and cuts on her legs. “That wasn’t my fault. I didn’t make that happen.”

  Bending at the waist, inspecting her legs, she heard Jose gasp.

  “Good Lord, Rebecca. All that happened in the few minutes before Jimmy and Kyle subdued him?”

  Looking back at him she saw his eyes pinned to her derriere. She couldn’t see what he did. Stepping to the side rotating to see what he viewed in the mirror, Terrie jumped out of her chair remarking, “What the hell? Did he do that to you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. You all know I bruise easily,” she reminded. Getting sight of what they saw, she gasped, too. It looked horrible. Not just bruises, but tiny red lines covered her entire butt. Sure, it hurt some today, but nothing compared to how it looked.

  Shaking his finger at her, Jose spoke a few words in Spanish before switching to English.

  “You aren’t dancing tonight. No paying customer wants to look at that.” He paced in a circle scratching his thick dark head. He muttered, “unless he did it himself.” Picking her pants up off her chair, he handed them to her. “Go. Get out of here tonight.”

  This sucked. She needed the money to make the final payment on the cruise she bought her parents for Christmas. “I can just work the floor.”

  “No!” he shouted leaving the room.

  Flopping in her chair, she gaped at herself in the mirror. Her long, straight brown hair framed a pair of teary brown eyes. What now? If she didn’t pay the remainder of the balance she would lose what she'd already paid.

  Terrie wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Did he hurt you? You went and saw him after you left last night?”

  A few drops slipped out onto her cheeks. “Yeah, but it wasn’t like that. I’m fine. Well, I was. I need this job.”

  She'd made a true friend in Terrie. She got lucky having her station assigned on this side, just the two of them. Some of the other ladies had a tendency to be catty, competitive over tips.

  “Give it a few days and come back and talk to Jose. When you don’t look so scary...your backside anyway.”

  Wiping away her tears, she patted her friend’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

  FOR THE SECOND TIME in less than twenty-four hours she sat in her car across the street from Jake’s. As upset as she was over the loss of income, her anger transcended all her other emotions. She stomped across his yard and banged on his front door.

  He answered the door wearing a pair of sweatpants. Only sweatpants. He held his phone to his ear. It sounded like a work call. Leaving the door open he went to his couch and sat looking at his open laptop, discussing measurements. She heard he did some type of contractor work, but since he and her brother graduated college he didn’t come around much.

  She stood in the doorway for several minutes and when
it didn’t appear he had any intention of ending his call, she entered the house and shut the door. He kept his eyes on the screen, ignoring her. The longer she waited for him to acknowledge her in some way, the irater she became.

  He lived in a mess. How did she not notice this last night? Oh yeah. She had quite a bit of wine, and the time she spent in there consisted of her face in the carpet, her pinned over his knees. He looked good. Incredible. It looked like he may workout. His chest and abdomen were tight. His biceps big, but not bulky. He still kept his dark hair short.

  She closed her eyes to eliminate her admiration of his appearance; she couldn’t allow herself to like anything about him. She came there with a purpose, and she would execute it. His conversation turned casual. Opening her eyes, she saw that he leaned back on the couch, one arm bent propping his head up on the back of it. His legs spread wide, her eyes fixated on his masculine thighs and the bulge in his shorts.

  Marching to the coffee table, she swatted his laptop closed. He jerked upright scowling at her.

  “Zeke, man, I gotta go. I’ll see you Monday.” Placing his phone on the table, he stood, towering over her. Angling her head, she met his challenge with her own intense sneer. “What are you doing? You trying to break it? You do and you buy me another!” he yelled.

  Most likely a result of nerves, she laughed at him. At least she did it in an obvious ironic manner.

  “Me buy you something! Funny guy. Not gonna happen, mister. Your little stunt last night costs me a lot of cash I need for Christmas.” Slapping her hands on her hips in the hope it displayed her annoyance and demand for...for what? Restitution for the lost pay? No, that wasn’t it either. An apology? Like that would ever happen. She winced as soreness radiated from her hips downward. “Jose took one look at me and sent me home. You made a mess of my backend.”

  Clenching his jaw, she heard him grinding his teeth.