by Dinah McLeod
“You don’t sound sure,” he observed before smacking my butt two more times in rapid succession, each spank laid right on the top of the other.
“Because I was mean to you!” I screeched out, wincing.
“Disrespect, yes, that’s part of it. And?”
“Because I yelled at you?”
“Good girl.”
It didn’t feel like I’d gotten the answer right, since as soon as I said it my ‘reward’ was another round of hard, stinging smacks that had me wriggling on his lap before he was through. The tingling was turning into a burning real quick and spreading across the rest of my bottom. What made it worse was that he kept spanking the same place over and over again, right on the curve of my ass, which now felt like it had been permanently imprinted with the shape of his hand. By the time he stopped, I was sniffling and had tears coursing down my cheeks.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, as though he couldn’t tell just by looking at my red-hot ass.
“Sore,” I said, my lip quivering.
“I know, baby. We’re almost done.”
“Almost?” I echoed, feeling a sob coming on at the thought. I couldn’t take any more—I just couldn’t.
“We still have to talk about you standing up in the boat. That was dangerous, Shana.”
“It wasn’t dangerous,” I protested, trying to sit up. Brody held me down on his lap effortlessly and I gave up after a few seconds, deciding it was best to conserve my energy—it looked like I was going to need it.
“I’d rather not drag this out any longer, so if you feel the same way, I’d suggest not arguing with me.”
“So what, if I disagree with you you’re going to… to hit me?” I demanded hotly.
“It’s fine to disagree, so long as you do it respectfully—which, by the way, is something you need to work on.”
“But it wasn’t dangerous! It was barely six feet of water!” It was exactly the wrong thing to say, not that I should have been surprised. It seemed to be what I was prone to in his presence.
“Apparently you aren’t learning your lesson, Shana.” He tsked his tongue and before I could argue further, I felt him pull down the boxers, letting the cool air caress my bottom.
I hadn’t thought I could be more mortified, but he’d just proved me wrong. “Brody! Please, it wasn’t!”
I felt his palm lift a half-second before I felt it collide with my skin. “You got lucky,” he growled at me, landing a spank for every word. “What if it had been three feet? You could have landed the wrong way and broken your neck. What if it had been twelve? You could have drowned. I’m not going to argue the particulars with you on this, Shana.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to point out that I was an excellent swimmer, but I thought better of it. “All right! I’m sorry!” I screeched, loud enough to wake the dead.
“We’ll see.” His voice was just as determined as his unyielding hand was on my backside.
“Brody! Brody, please!” I gasped. I’d just managed to blink away the tears during the lecture and now I could see they hadn’t really gone anywhere.
Still, he didn’t let up. He spanked every inch of skin, paddling up one side of my bottom and down the other until my cries turned to sobs. The tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision no matter how quickly I blinked them away. When he finally stopped, I felt positively on fire. The first thing I planned on doing when I got home was climbing into a nice, cold ice bath. If I ever got home.
“Don’t ever, ever let me catch you endangering yourself again, is that clear?” he asked in the same stoic voice he’d used before.
This time, I knew better than to argue. “Yes, sir. Can I get up now?” I asked, sniffling.
“That depends. Are you going to behave?”
“Yes,” I replied meekly, knowing no other answer would be acceptable.
From the moment he helped me to sit on his lap, I knew I couldn’t meet his eyes. I was too embarrassed. I buried my face in the soft flannel of his shirt instead and proceeded to cry my heart out. I thought I was done, but the minute I inhaled his sexy, manly scent, the sobs returned with abandon. I felt so ashamed of myself. I couldn’t believe I’d let my ex-boyfriend spank me, but even more unbelievable was the fact that I’d deserved it at all. I couldn’t bear to look at him, because now that he’d seen me bare-assed and red-eyed from crying—neither was a very pretty sight—I was pretty sure any romantic feelings he might have had beforehand had died hard.
“Shh,” he whispered, rubbing circles on my back as I sobbed. “Shh. It’s over now. You’re going to be OK.”
“Tell that to my s-sore bu-butt,” I protested, sniffling.
“Shh, I know. I know. I’m sorry I had to punish you. It won’t last forever, just long enough to make sure you remember this conversation.”
“How could I forget?” I wailed, shifting uncomfortably.
“Hush, honey, you’re going to be just fine.” He continued to pat my back until my cries softened to whimpers. “Don’t you feel better now, sweetheart?”
I jerked my head up to see if he was teasing me. He wasn’t, but no was still on my lips faster than I could think it. But to my surprise, after I paused to take inventory I found that, other than a very sore bottom, I did feel better. My heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. Sitting here on his lap, even though my ass was hot to the touch and my face tear-streaked, felt like the best place I’d been in a long time. For once, I didn’t feel weighed down by the niggling doubts and questions that had plagued me since coming back home. I felt like I could breathe easy, even if only in this moment.
Brody must have seen it on my face, because he leaned down and kissed my nose. “I just want to help you, Shana.”
“I know,” I admitted in a small, little-girl voice that made him smile.
“I’m glad.”
Giving him a small smile, I pushed myself off his lap, backing up a few steps and appraising him. God, the man was hot. Would he never cease to set my pulse to racing?
“How about we go for that ice cream?”
I shook my head ruefully. “Thanks, but I… I’m really tired. I should probably get back home and ah… grab a nap before Mom gets up.”
He considered me thoughtfully and I saw the doubt creep into his eyes before he spoke. “Rain check?”
I ran a hand through my damp, frizzy hair as I considered him. The truth was, I did want to go with him. I wanted to go out for ice cream, lunch, walks, movies, I wanted to go anywhere and everywhere, so long as he’d be there. Which was absurd, considering the man had just blistered my butt, for God’s sake! But it seemed like no matter what he did, Brody was my kryptonite. And like Superman, I knew all too well that kryptonite could hurt like hell. I couldn’t risk it, as much as I wanted to.
“Shan?”
“Um, yeah.” I tried to smile, but all I could manage was a grimace. “Sure. I just have to figure out my schedule…”
Brody put his hands on his thighs, looking at me with soulful eyes. “What just happened? I thought we were OK and now you’re acting…” He trailed off and I wondered if he couldn’t put a word to it or if he just didn’t want to.
“No, we are. OK, I mean. Just… I’m a little confused right now.”
“About?”
I folded my arms across my chest and looked up at the ceiling. “About us. I don’t know what’s going on with us.”
“What do you want to be going on?”
“I… I really have to go now. I’m sorry. Goodbye.” I dashed for the door before he had a chance to stop me and I kept going, even when I heard him call out for me to come back for my wet clothes. I had to keep moving, because if I stopped I knew my weakness would take me right back to him.
I took the stairs two at a time and darted into the kitchen. I was heading for the back door when I heard a throat clear behind me.
“Good morning, Shana. You’re up early.”
I winced and turned to face her. “Good morning
, Mrs. Patterson,” I replied, blushing hotly. I could see it in every line of her face, no matter how calm she appeared: she’d heard Brody spanking me, had probably heard every single yelp and cry.
“Are you staying for breakfast, dear?”
“No, I can’t stay.” I smiled apologetically before running out the door, leaving her questioning eyes and the stench of my humiliation behind me.
Chapter Eight
Mom was having a hell of a bad day, which automatically meant I was having one, too.
It had been three days since Brody had spanked me and even though the pain in my bottom had long since faded, the same couldn’t be said for my embarrassment. I’d kept holed up in the house since then, afraid to step a toe out the door in case he was watching, waiting to ambush me. Not that I could blame him—he’d called roughly sixteen times since I’d seen him last and I’d let every single one go to voicemail. Not that I’d listened to them; I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand it.
“Shana? Where are you?” My mom’s voice was high-pitched and verging on hysterical.
“Right here, Mom.” I winced, hoping she couldn’t hear the irritation that had crept into my voice.
“Where did you put my eye drops?”
I propped myself up on my elbow, looking at her. “I didn’t touch them, Mom. Where did you have them last?”
“I have no idea!” she exclaimed, sighing in annoyance. “You must have taken them; I never misplace my eye drops.”
I tried not to take the glaring accusation in her face personally. I knew she’d forget all about it in a few minutes, anyway. “Why don’t I help you look?”
She ignored my question, instead raising her arm to inspect her wristwatch. “What are you still doing in bed? It’s three in the afternoon!”
A sarcastic retort leapt to my lips, almost as though I was the teenager she was treating me as. I bit it back just in time, covering it with an apologetic smile. “I’m not feeling well.” That wasn’t entirely untrue. Never mind that my symptoms had more to do with confusion and frustration than actual illness.
“Hmm.” She walked forward and to my surprise she put her hand to my forehead. “I don’t think you’re warm, sweetie.”
It was so normal, so oddly reminiscent of the lost decades that I felt tears gather in my eyes. “I’ll be fine, Mom, thanks. I’ll get up. I’ll help you look for—”
“No, no, you lie back down. You should rest.” She motioned for me to comply and I did, marveling at the odd turn the conversation had taken as she tucked me in, pulling the sheets tight around me like she had back when I was seven and strongly believed in the possibility of monsters in my closet.
I watched Mom shuffle out the door, wondering what the hell I was going to do when I went back to work. The hours of a doctor were demanding, no matter what kind of schedule you were promised initially. There would be plenty of days when I couldn’t get home to check on her. At least if something came up, I’d be close by.
With a groan, I turned over, trying to banish the unwelcome thoughts. I really couldn’t think about this right now. An image of Brody, the way he’d looked the moment before I ran from his room, leapt up to take its place. It seemed all I had to think on these days were things I’d rather not.
I felt terrible for avoiding him, but the longer I did it, the more foolish I felt about finally returning one of his phone calls. What could I say? What excuse could I give that he wouldn’t see right through? And when he did call me on it, I’d just end up right back over his lap, my bottom bared to his punishing hand…
A delicious shiver ran through me and I hated my body for betraying me. This wasn’t normal. It hadn’t felt good—far from it, so why did the thought of another make my insides twist in ways that weren’t altogether horrified? What was wrong with me?
That was precisely why I couldn’t talk to Brody. One look at him and all the questions would fade, all my concerns would be forgotten. He was just that way—he took the wind out of my sails with nothing more than a smile. Around him, these things didn’t worry me near enough and that was why, at least until I figured it out, I had to stay away from him.
My cell began to vibrate on my nightstand. It was face down against the wood, so when it shuddered with each ring, the sound was akin to thunder. It was enough to make anyone jump. Still, I didn’t reach for it. I didn’t have to; I knew who would be on the other end.
I pulled a pillow over my head, trying to muffle the noise, but I couldn’t ignore it any more than I could my tumult of confusing emotions.
“Sounds like your phone. You gonna get it?”
With a gasp, I launched up in my bed, staring in wide-eyed shock at Brody who stood in the doorway of my bedroom. “What are you…?”
“You’re not answering any of my calls,” he answered with a shrug. “I thought I’d stop over and make sure you were just ignoring me and not, you know, dead.” His teasing smile took the bite out of his words.
I shook my head mutely, taking in his open plaid shirt that revealed a six-pack that his wife-beater did little to conceal. I let my eyes slide down to his white-washed, torn jeans and swallowed hard. I had to stop ogling him—not only was it embarrassing if he caught on, but it also made it next to impossible to pretend to be mad at him.
“So, not dead,” he continued conversationally. “What then? I can see your phone’s working, so what’s up?”
I studiously avoided his eyes, regrettably forced to turn my attention to my bedspread. I was trapped now; I had to deal with this. I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever—did I really want to?—but I hadn’t expected him to just show up on my doorstep, either.
“We have to talk sometime, Shan.”
“Why?” I finally managed.
“Because I… I care about you. A lot, actually. I need to know… did I do something wrong?”
The bark of laughter escaped my lips before I could stop it and even though I slapped my hand over my mouth, there was nothing I could do to take it back.
“I take it that’s a yes?” I heard him sigh when I didn’t answer. “Shana, look at me, please.”
I bit my lip, hard, and tried to fight the way his voice compelled me to obey. It was a fight that I lost, but at least I could console myself with the fact that I’d tried. When I raised my eyes to his, I was taken aback by the uncertainty I saw lurking in his dark depths.
“Talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this.”
If I’d had trouble speaking before, his vulnerability left my tongue in knots. It was the last thing I expected. He’d seemed so in control, in charge of every situation that I’d never thought he’d look at me with that soul-filled gaze, his face etched with regret. The sight of it made my heart twist painfully in my chest.
“Was it the spanking?”
Just the way he said the s word made me flush. From anyone else’s lips, I’d probably just give them a strange look and dismiss it, but hearing it in his deep, sexy voice made my flesh prickle with goose bumps. All I could do was nod.
He began to pace my room, running his hands through his hair as he went.
It was his go-to move when he was nervous and all I could do was watch, wondering at the fact that he was so worked up. Was it… for me? Could I have been wrong? Maybe he really did… was it possible he loved me? The anguish in his face sure made it seem like he might.
Finally, he stopped and turned toward me, pinning me with the intensity in his eyes. “The thing is, I really was just trying to take care of you, Shana. I want you to stay safe and maybe… maybe spanking you wasn’t the best way to get my point across, but it sure seemed like it at the time.”
I flushed brighter, both from the fact that he so casually admitted to having me bare-assed over his lap and from the fact that thinking about it made me ache in places that hadn’t seen any action in over a year. When his words registered, I was almost as shocked by the fact he was admitting that he could be wrong. I didn’t think strong, authoritative Brody ever que
stioned himself; maybe I’d misjudged him in more ways than one.
“You need someone to look out for you and I’d like to be that person, at least until…”
I took a deep breath, shoving all my fears and doubts as far away from me as I could get them, long enough to admit, “I don’t want anyone else.” I’d spoken almost in a whisper, but I could see from the way that the doubt began to leave his face, from the way that his eyes lit up, that he’d heard me.
“Really?”
Before I could answer, Mom bustled in bringing a tall, frosted glass of tangy orange juice in with her. “Oh, hello, Brody. I didn’t know you were still here. It’s probably about time you headed home, Shana needs her rest. She’s not feeling well.”
I winced—I couldn’t very well admit to the lie, not with him standing right there.
But as it turned out, I didn’t need to. I could see by the smirk that came over his face that he already knew it. “Of course, Mrs. Davidson.” He took a step forward and bent down, putting a kiss on my forehead that practically singed my hair.
God, I was such a mess around him.
He turned to leave, but looked back at me at the last minute. “Feel better, Shan. And I will talk to you later.” He arched his eyebrow, giving me one last, warning look before he left.
I gulped, looking at Mom to see if she’d heard the underlying sternness in his voice, but she looked oblivious as she walked over and handed me the juice. I saw right away that it had pieces of pulp floating to the top of the rich, orange liquid, just the way I liked it.
“Take these,” she advised, handing me two dark blue capsules. “It’ll help you sleep and when you wake up, you’ll feel better.”
I gave her a small smile, trying to swallow my guilt. How could I tell her that I lied? How could I tell her that I didn’t trust myself to fall into the deep, dreamless sleep the pills would pull me into when I couldn’t leave her by herself? But she was my mother and I couldn’t say any of those things, not with her kindly smile on me making me feel worse.
Instead, I put the pills under my tongue and pretended to swallow them down with a big gulp of orange juice.
