For Ben
(Corbin's Bend #6)
by
Kate Richards
Copyright 2014 Lazy Day, LLC and Kate Richards
www.lazydaypub.com
For Ben: Corbin's Bend #6
ISBN: 978-1-62750-4676
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright © 2014 Kate Richards
Cover art by ABCD Graphics and Design
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, any events or locales is purely coincidental. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission from the publisher LazyDay, with the exception of quotes used in reviews and critical articles.
Table of contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
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Chapter One
Teri Simms had distressing news to deliver. Roy would be upset, but it couldn’t be helped.
Sometimes Teri feared she’d dreamed her life. She’d come far. And brought her husband along with her. But neither had grown up expecting the luxury of their current life. Or the frantic nature of their days and nights.
From so high up, the streets of New York City looked less in focus than the scenes on the HDTV on the wall opposite the floor-to-ceiling windows of their hard-earned penthouse. Not a sound or a speck of dust penetrated the glass tower, despite her husband’s complaints about the noise and dirt of the City. Tiny cars passed back in forth in front of the building, stopping and starting as the colored traffic lights flashed, or pedestrians crossed.
The rooftop terrace her husband so loved, a riot of floral color in daytime, lay in shades of gray at nine o’clock at night. And she didn’t feel motivated to turn on the floodlights and dim her view of the Boulevard.
Was one of those tiny cabs making its way down Broadway carrying Roy?
They’d planned an evening together, at his request. She’d even refused a client dinner—something rarer than rare in her busy career—to rush home and enjoy takeout sushi and a movie with her husband. And he was over an hour late. She could have met with the client for drinks, presented the new investment strategy, and been home by then, if he couldn’t make their appointment.
Beyond irritated, Teri paced toward the narrow marble ledge by the entrance, picked up her phone but didn’t dial. She wouldn’t call him. The late party had the responsibility. He knew that. And if his own schedule ran over, he could have had his secretary let her know, preferably before she cut the business day short.
Husbands were almost not worth the effort.
She froze, hand still on the device. How could she think Roy not worth the effort? He worked as hard as she did—albeit with a little encouragement from his better half—and would make full partner within the next couple of years, sooner if old man Barnstall got any more absent minded and was forced into retirement.
Teri frowned at the worn green leather recliner set off to the side, as if ashamed to associate with the rest of the subtle earth tones the decorator chose for their home. Millicent would be by for the annual style update in a few days, and would no doubt fuss about the ugly thing again. But Roy refused to get rid of it…so far.
And the news she had to share would take him a while to forgive, so the furniture issue would have to wait until another night.
Teri grabbed the phone and sank into the worn chair. She’d never admit to him how often she sat there, how comfortable it was, or how the lingering hint of his woodsy cologne lifted her spirits when she was worried or a little blue. What if he was having those alarming chest pains again? His doctor said it was indigestion, prescribed antacids and shorter work days. But what if it was something more?
As soon as he had that partnership, she would have him check into the hospital for tests. If they did it sooner, the seniors would hold his health against him.
Hitting speed dial, she settled back and listened to the ring until it went to voicemail.
Anger returned, seeping over her unease. The inconsiderate man could at least pick the damn thing up and give her his excuse for tardiness.
Ding. The shining steel elevator doors slid open. No wonder he’d been unavailable. One would think a building like theirs would offer lifts with a reasonable amount of cellphone reception. She’d have her secretary send a nasty note to the management company in the morning. Roy stepped into the great room, his overcoat over his arm, top button on his shirt loosened, tie stuffed in his jacket pocket. One lock of black hair fell over his forehead. He always had looked great rumpled. It sent naughty right to her core. She might have liked his success, but his charm and sex appeal had been the first things she’d noticed about him. Then his potential.
Still…he was late. “About time you got here.”
The corner of his lips curved up, deepening the lines around his tired eyes. “I knew you liked my chair.”
Dammit. She jumped up as if the leather burned the backs of her thighs. “I don’t, I just…. that’s not the point. Why are you late?” He raised his shoulders and her gaze fixed on his empty hands. “And where’s the sushi? You forgot again.” Not giving him a chance to respond, she hit the next number on speed dial. “Hi, Yasumi, it’s Mrs. Simms. Can you send the usual?” While the terrace was Roy’s favorite part of their home, the restaurants and shops on the first two floors of their steel and glass high-rise were hers. If she could telecommute, she could go months without going outside. Of course, her lack of attendance would lead to disaster. Her clients counted on personal service. And the backstabbers at work needed watching.
As she dropped the phone to the side table, his grin fell. “I don’t know why you didn’t order it to start with.” And the tone of the evening clicked into place. Bickering, as usual. So much for intimacy, a movie and…oh, no. If she got him upset before she told him her bad news, things were likely to escalate. She’d planned to soften him up before delivering the blow.
Smoothing her hair, she summoned whatever sex appeal she retained and offered him a coy smile. “You’re right, Roy. I should have.” Teri slunk across the room, took his overcoat, and hung it in the foyer closet. “Let’s not ruin our evening. Were you stuck in a meeting?”
“No,” he said, casting a narrow-eyed gaze at her.
“Traffic?”
He shook his head. Confused, she tried to think of what other reason might have delayed him. Silence stretched out as the two of them stood between the elevator door and coat closet until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“It’s almost nine-thirty. Why weren’t you here at eight, as we agreed?”
He fidgeted, increasing his resemblance to a rumpled little boy at the end of a busy day, then lifted his head and his piercing and very grown-up stare skewered her. “Because I didn’t think you would be.”
Stunned, she tried to summon words of protest. Then remembered she didn’t have the upper hand for once. “And you had reason to lack faith in me. I apologize.” Taking his arm, she led him toward his chair and pushed him down. “I’ll fix us a drink while we wait for the sushi. How was your day, dear?”
Roy leapt out of the chair faster than his wife had. How was your day, dear? The query of a 1950s housewife, maybe, but not his hotshot fi
nancier wife. Suspicion faded under an overburden of certainty. Gripping her upper arm, he jerked her to face him and grasped the other elbow. Acid burned in his throat. “Before we go any further, what the hell is going on?”
I-I don’t know what you mean.” She widened her eyes, a caricature of innocence she invariably adopted when she hid something. “What’s wrong with asking about your day?”
Wrong? “The last time I kept you waiting, you subjected me to the silent treatment for a week. I know you, Teri. If you are willing to overlook the waste of over an hour of your precious time, something’s up.”
They stood poised in the center of the cold, impersonal room she hired some fussy, skinny woman to redecorate every year. To keep up with trends, she said, for when they entertained. He wasn’t even sure whether they owned the furniture or maybe leased it so that it could come and go so often. And he couldn’t recall the last time they had guests. It was easier to take clients out than to arrange catering.
She dropped her face and he stared at the top of her head, coming only up to his collarbone.
Teri was a constant blur of motion, in and out of the house, on her way to work and meetings. Their social life consisted of business-related engagements. Her slim form trembled in his hands, a hummingbird, something never still long enough for a good look.
Softening, he reconsidered his stance, unable to hold anger at the petite woman he’d married. He never could. Whatever she had to tell him, they’d get past it. A small flicker of worry flitted past—was someone ill? It was so out of character for her to be sweet to him when he was wrong—and he was so often wrong.
“Teri,” he released one shoulder and tipped her chin up, “tell me what’s going on.” Her lovely face, emerald eyes, high cheekbones, framed by glossy auburn hair, had captivated him the first time he’d seen her at a fraternity mixer. There’d been nobody for him since although she hadn’t deigned to notice him right away.
No, he’d spent a year chasing her like a smitten boy, which he supposed he had been, before she accepted an invitation to dinner and a concert.
She bit her lip and swallowed hard and his fear rose. His mother must be dead. Nothing could cause his confident wife so much hesitation but a great tragedy. Steeling himself, he waited for her answer.
“It’s not a big deal, nothing to be so upset about.” She shrugged free of his grip and faced the City view. “We just have to reschedule our vacation for later in the summer. You don’t mind, do you?”
The rage reddening his vision might have been out of proportion…if they had ever had a vacation. Even their honeymoon had been cut short by an emergency at the office. He should have seen the writing on the wall then. His moment of nostalgic affection fled. “Mind? Why should I mind?”
She turned to him again, a small smile highlighting the relief in her eyes, her brisk mannerisms returning. Teri bent to straighten a pillow on the couch and her straight gray pencil skirt tightened around her perfect ass. His focus narrowed on his favorite part of her anatomy. But, for once, caressing it wasn’t his first thought.
“So, I’ll call the travel agent and cancel.” She moved another annoying decorative pillow into its exact place on the leather sofa. “And maybe we can go in the fall?”
“I don’t think so.” Roy moved the few steps to stand behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Not this time. I am holding you accountable for your promises, for once.” Beyond rational thought, he lifted his hand and brought it down on her backside with a resounding smack. “And I am tired of being lied to.” Another sharp slap on her other cheek, the sound echoing in their sterile, perfectly arranged “living” room. Nobody did any living there. No family photos hung on the pale-gray papered walls. No books or boxes of tissues, candy, or stray personal items cluttered the occasional tables. Like a hotel room, where they passed through on their way to more important things. Slapping her a third time, he tightened his hold as she struggled.
Roy dropped to a seat on the couch and pulled her over his lap. Her outraged gasps barely broke through the roaring in his head.
“What are you doing?” Teri kicked out but her legs flailed on the smooth cushions and her arms were pinned beneath her. “Stop it immediately!” Two more smacks and she shrieked. “Have you gone insane?”
“Maybe, Teri, but it’s time someone held you to your agreements, and if you will recall…this was one of them.”
She stilled and so did his hand, rubbing small circles on her ass, while he decided how many more spanks her behavior merited. “Oh, God, you can’t be referring to the ridiculous game we used to play.”
He lifted his hand high and whacked, hard. “You didn’t think it was a game when you proposed the plan.” Way back when, during their engagement, she’d introduced some elements of domestic discipline into their life. He’d spanked her once or twice for sassy behavior, but it really had never been more than a game. “But maybe never taking it beyond sex play was my mistake. Maybe if I’d been a little more proactive, we wouldn’t have gotten to this point.”
“Roy, stop this.” She struggled, a warm armful, her breasts rubbing against the side of his thigh.
“I think your news is punishment-worthy, don’t you?” Smack. Her skirt got in the way and he drew the zipper down, keeping one forearm on her waist to hold her in place.
“Roy,” she shrieked, her voice rising in volume. “If you don’t let me up, I’ll…I’ll….”
“You’ll what?” Jerking the garment to her knees, he beheld those horrible Lycra undergarments she wore, claiming her behind bulged out of control no matter how much she dieted and exercised. He couldn’t think how to get them off and still hold her there, so they’d have to stay. His first spank on her appropriately named underwear made him grin.
“Just cut it out. Ouch! That hurts!” Teri bucked against his arm, her captive cheeks wriggling in their prison as he rained his displeasure and punishment on her buttocks, then on her thighs, on the Lycra then below it, on her bare skin. The sharp crack of his palm against her white flesh, the pink handprints, pleased him.
“That’s the idea. It’s punishment, after all. Breaking your word is a serious offense. Wasn’t keeping our promises one of our vows?”
He’d avoided taking advantage of their agreement for a long time, fearing his anger would get the best of him. But far from it, he experienced a sense of control he’d never imagined. And her wriggling on his lap was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
The few times they’d engaged in spanking before had been the discipline games of experimenting college students. True. But could their agreement hold the key to saving a marriage on the rocks? Sobered by the possibility, and her lack of response, he stopped.
Teri no longer struggled, but lay limp, and he leaned his head against the high-backed sofa. He’d spanked her. What next?
They couldn’t go back. But what would take them forward? What would he do if she stood up and announced she was leaving him? Despite all their troubles, she held his heart in her delicate hands. His throat swelled with emotion. And guilt. She seemed so much smaller lying there, and so quiet. In a rush of worry, he lifted her to sit upright on his lap and searched her face. Tear-tracks marked the soft curves of her cheeks and, as he watched, a droplet fell from her lashes to splash on his hand.
“Oh, baby, I….” How could he make up for striking her in anger? Perhaps his feeling of being in control had been an illusion. His throat burned, his chest hurt. He should pack and go before she had the police on him. He held her by the waist, but her arms came up and circled his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.
His heart broke at the depth of her sadness, and it was his fault. But under his guilt and doubt, the beginnings of another feeling surfaced. A memory of a different relationship. Their first few years together had a whole different balance. Roy tightened his arms around her and stroked her back, whispering reassurances while images struck him.
Long, long before, he’d be
en a solid partner in their relationship.
Assured of his plans for the future, he’d completed undergrad studies, achieved honor society each semester without much effort and had plenty of time for frolicking with his pretty girlfriend. They’d attended parties and gone on romantic picnics, all by themselves. Movies, dinner out…mostly cheap because they didn’t have a lot of extra money but every event took on a sparkle with Teri by his side. While he attended law school and she worked on her MBA, their time had been tighter, but they’d still managed to have “study picnics” which more often than not dissolved into passionate lovemaking on the faded quilt spread on his apartment floor. Sometimes with some playful spanking to spice things up. They’d laughed so much then.
When had everything changed?
Teri sniffled and he stroked her hair. “It’s okay, baby.” The guilt had faded, but his confusion made it impossible to identify what replaced it. An odd comfort, for sure, at holding her, soothing her tears, and an ache at her softness. Her hard, sharp edges in recent years could cut glass and had sliced at his feelings more than once. When she lifted her chin, he pressed his lips to her forehead, her nose, and, as her eyes flickered closed, he kissed each eyelid then her mouth.
For an instant, he feared she would reject him. After all, he was the beast who had taken her over his lap in anger. He needed to apologize, explain his actions…somehow. But Teri groaned and returned his growing passion. As if a wall had crumbled between them, passion flared. He moved his hands up and down her back until he cupped her ass, still warm from his attentions, and his cock hardened.
With a growl, Roy lifted her in his arms—teetering off balance as he rose—and strode toward their bedroom. She hung on, and he savaged her mouth while trying not to bounce off any walls. Dropping her to the mattress on her belly, he grasped her Lycra garment and rent it in two then flipped her over.
“What are you doing?” she protested. “I need those.”
For Ben (Corbin's Bend Book 6) Page 1
