by Measha Stone
“I know,” she said flatly.
“Okay, so you don’t need anything…” He walked them closer to the tent sporting graphic novels meant for coloring. Her attention washed over the books as they walked by.
“Well, maybe…just one?” she muttered.
“Okay, just one,” he agreed. He shuffled the books in his arm and walked with her to the booth, knowing, with the light in her eyes as she picked up the first book, she’d be going home with as many as she wanted.
Chapter 8
Samantha stormed down the steps of the Harold Washington Library, defeat yanking on her heart. She answered every question, she hadn’t stumbled over any answers, she had experience, and the degree to back her up. She should have been walking out of the library with a job offer in her hand.
We’re in the middle of interviews and expect to have an answer in a few days.
A few days!
As she burst out of the library and into the heat, she groaned. She’d decided to go for professional instead of comfortable and wore her blue blazer with her dress. The sunlight soaked into the long sleeves, making her impossibly warm.
Samantha took off the jacket and slung it over her purse, holding tight to both as she stalked down the street toward Ryder’s apartment. She’d taken an uber to the interview, but she needed to work off the irritation.
She was being irrational. It was a serious position she was hoping for, and of course they would be interviewing a string of candidates before making a decision. She’d let her hope get the better of her—like usual—and reality knocked her down a few pegs.
But getting her mind and heart in line with the truth would take time. Hopefully, before she made it home, she’d be in a better mood. She had two other interviews lined up at other libraries, smaller, and not as centrally located in the city, but still good positions. Hope was not completely lost.
By the time she made it back to the apartment, her hair, which she’d taken great pains to straighten and keep neat for the interview, was ruined by the humidity. Loose strands were stuck to her face and neck thanks to all the sweating, and her head hurt from the bright sunlight. In her nervousness that morning, she’d forgotten her sunglasses.
Her mood had not improved.
The cold blast of air conditioning hit her as she entered the lobby, and she let out a sigh of relief. How could yesterday have been so gorgeous and today so horrendous?
She stabbed the elevator call light and tried to wipe her hair from her face.
“Fucking sweat,” she groaned as a drop rolled into her eye, bringing a burning sting. The elevator doors slid open, and she rushed inside, pressing the eighth floor.
Once on his floor, she stomped down the hall to the apartment, wiping her eye with the sleeve of her blazer and muttering to herself.
Her mood had worsened.
The door swung open before she could dig out the key.
“Hey.” Ryder’s brows furrowed when he looked at her.
“What are you doing home?” she asked, sidestepping him into the apartment. She didn’t wait for his answer, but dropped her bag in the front hall and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.
“The job’s delayed. Government red tape—what’s wrong?” he asked, trying to look her over.
“Nothing. It’s fucking hot.” She grabbed a paper towel and wiped her face. Most of her makeup came with it. Catching a glimpse of herself in the fridge door reflection, she saw the mess she’d made. The mascara was nearly gone from the eye she’d been rubbing, and the rest of it had been running down her cheek with the sweat.
“Didn’t you take a car?” he asked, filling a glass with cold water from the tap.
“Not on the way home,” she snapped. “I wanted to walk,” she said before he started in on her about not taking the car. It was the middle of the afternoon, and she was a grown ass woman. She could walk if she wanted to.
“Okay,” he said, handing her the glass.
She leaned against the counter and guzzled down the water.
“How’d the interview go?”
She eyed him. “Fine.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, apparently waiting for another answer.
“It was fine. They’ll call me.” She mocked the tone of Mr. Serbets, the director she’d interviewed with. “They still have people to interview.”
“Okay.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why is it so hot in here?” she demanded, filling the glass with more water.
“It’s not, but you’re hot from walking in the heat. Just relax and you’ll cool off faster.”
She put the glass on the countertop.
“Fucking relax? That’s your suggestion?”
“Samantha.” He lowered his chin, setting a dark glare on her. “You’re not in a good mood, I get that, but I don’t appreciate you aiming your irritation at me.”
She sighed. “Fucking hell.”
“And the language needs to get cleaned up,” he added in a firmer tone.
A tingle in her belly sparked.
“Why?” she demanded, putting her fists on her hips.
“Because you don’t usually talk like that, and I don’t like it,” he answered calmly, his expression as cool as his tone.
Samantha pushed her hair from her face and licked her lips.
“They’re just words.”
The corner of his lips curved upward. It looked like a warning, but she wasn’t in the mood to heed it.
He moved closer, until he was toe to toe with her. Pressing his hands to the counter on either side of her, he had her trapped.
“It sounds like someone’s looking for a spanking.”
Her mouth dried.
Was she that readable?
Her pulse ramped up. It was time to bring the status back down to a reasonable threat level.
“Just because we’re both into kink, doesn’t mean you get to throw empty threats at me.” She raised her chin. Apparently, she was going to keep charging uphill.
“You’re right, I don’t. And it’s not an empty threat. But I’m putting this on the table for you, nice and clear. If you curse at me again, you’re telling me you want a spanking. You’re telling me you’re in a bad spiral and you need me to help you reel it in.” He lowered himself to line up his gaze with hers. She had nowhere to turn, nowhere to look. “All you have to do is excuse yourself and go get cleaned up. Your choice, Sammy.”
Her heart sank into a warm pillow of need at his uttered nickname.
He wasn’t serious, though.
What he was proposing…it wasn’t real.
They couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
She rolled her shoulders back, raising her chin even more. “Fuck fuckity fuck fuck,” she said, loud and plain.
His tongue darted out of the corner of his mouth, and he heaved a hard breath. “Okay then.” He stood to his full height and snatched her by the upper arm, dragging her to the kitchen table.
“Ryder, wait! You can’t!”
He flipped a chair around and plunked himself down in it, his grip steel hard around her arm.
“You had your choice, Sammy, and you made it.” His hard tone softened when he looked up at her. His jaw was set firm. He was all business, but he wasn’t out of control. She doubted the man ever actually lost control.
Before she could raise a defense, he yanked her down over his lap. His knee sank into her stomach, and she began to crawl off. Ryder easily thwarted her attempted escape with a heavy arm clamped around her waist.
“Not getting out of it now, Sammy.” He raised his right knee, bringing her bottom higher up.
“Let me go! Let me down!” She smacked at his calves, but if she was being honest, her heart wasn’t in it.
“Listen up, little girl.” He rested his hand on her ass, and she stilled. “You made your choice, and now you’ll live with it. Once I’m done here, we’ll talk, but until I’ve given you permission to talk, the only thing I want to hear is an a
pology.”
“I’m sorry!” She didn’t need a spanking to get to the apology. She never should have tried to call his bluff. Now she was face down over his lap, hair all around her face so she couldn’t even see him. And she tried, and failed, not to think about her butt facing him. She was a grown woman!
Why had she forced his hand?
He chuckled. “Not yet, Sammy girl.” He patted her ass. “I’m gonna let you keep your skirt down, but if you fight me, start cursing again, it gets flipped up and you’ll take this spanking on your bare ass. Am I clear?”
Her stomach summersaulted again and again, until she could barely get the words out.
“Yes—” She stopped herself before saying the word she held close to her chest, but only barely.
He sighed.
“Okay then. Here we go.” His hand, his warm, comforting hand, lifted from her ass and crashed down with the fire of the devil himself.
Too shocked by the sudden burst of pain, her scream stuck in her throat. By the third spank, he’d knocked her voice loose again, and she howled. The man had iron hands!
“Ryder! No!” She started to wiggle when the smacks lowered to her thighs. So she’d cursed, so what? She was allowed. It was her right!
He paused, rubbing her ass with his palm. “You had a bad morning, and instead of coming home and talking, you wanted to take it out on me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it. She’d been out of control, and it wasn’t fair to him. He’d been nothing but kind since she’d met him.
“I know you are. You’re starting to calm down now, aren’t you, little girl?” He continued to run his hand over her ass in circles.
She blinked back the tears. “Yes.” He was right—again. The whirlwind of emotions started simmering the moment he’d grabbed her arm.
After a long moment of silence, she pressed her hands to his leg and started to get up.
“Can I get up now?”
He gently pushed against her back. “Not yet, little girl. We aren’t done. Now that I have your attention, your punishment can start.”
She jerked her head back, trying to see him. “What? No. You just did.”
“What I did was get your heart ready to listen. Now, you’ll pay the consequence.” She caught his gaze. He wasn’t joking.
“I don’t want—”
“I know you don’t.”
She shook her head. “No. You can’t. I won’t—” She tried to shove up again, but he pushed back harder.
“Stay still or this becomes a bare assed spanking,” he warned.
“I’m feeling better now. Just let me up!” She smacked his calf.
He sighed. A heavy, disappointing sound.
“You hit me.”
She sank back down over his lap, letting her head dangle. “It was a tap,” she muttered, feeling the softer side of herself easing its way up.
“Well, my smacks aren’t taps,” he promised. “Skirt goes up,” he decreed, and no amount of wiggling she did could stop him. He grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it up over her ass, using his other arm to clamp it down to her back and pin her to his waist at the same time.
He hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties and pulled them down until they rested right below her cheeks. She clenched her eyes, waiting for his comment on her choice of underwear. Looking for comfort over fashion, she’d grabbed a pair of cotton briefs. Not exactly the sexiest panties in the world.
“Ryder,” she groaned and flattened her hands against the kitchen tiles.
“You’re not making good choices today, are you?” he asked, patting her ass cheeks.
Mortification seeped into her soul.
“Obviously not!” she shot at him, cursing herself for letting the snark out. When would she get control of herself?
“Okay, back to no talking.” His hand disappeared, and she clenched her ass, ready for the fire to ignite. “Soften those cheeks, young lady. Right. Now.” His command was so hard, so unyielding, she didn’t chance disobeying.
Once her body relaxed, the inferno was ignited. He didn’t give her any time between smacks to digest the pain of the swat. Over and over, his heavy hand landed, higher, lower, to the right then left, and all over again.
She openly cried out, but it had no effect on him. The spanking continued, and he left no inch of flesh untouched. The only moment he paused was to yank her panties lower so he could concentrate properly on her thighs.
“Ryder!” she shrieked, trying to squirm, but he had her on serious lockdown with his arm.
Tears built in her eyes, but she refused to give into them. He was being a meanie. That’s what he was doing.
“I think you let your emotions get the best of you. I think you were upset and instead of talking, you let yourself go off the rails,” he said as he methodically continued the spanking. “But you’ll learn—and quick, I assure you. I won’t tolerate being your punching bag.”
With his words, a sharp hit to her chest knocked the stubbornness away. That’s exactly what she had done.
She blinked, letting the tears fall from her eyes and roll off her cheeks to the floor. The smacks grew harder, but slower.
“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, letting the stress and anger of the day wash away. Giving into the spanking, into him, her body went slack over his knees.
The spanks slowed to a stop, and his hand rested on her throbbing, hot ass.
She was sobbing.
Instead of chastising her, or making fun, he simply allowed her to. He comforted her by rubbing her back, but reminded her she had been punished by not easing the sting from her backside.
“Ready to get up?” he asked in a soft tone.
“Yes please.” She sniffled and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes.
“Come here, Sammy girl.” He helped her get to her feet. The dress fell back down over her ass, the soft fabric uncomfortable as it brushed her tender ass. “Take your panties all the way off,” he said, bracing her with his hands on her waist.
“Why?” she asked, wiping her face again.
“Because your bottom is pretty red, and they’ll be uncomfortable. And because I said so.” He flashed a casual grin.
She couldn’t argue the comfort logic. He’d been damn thorough.
Sucking in her bottom lip, she reached down and pulled them off, stepping out easily with him holding her.
“Good girl.” He took the panties from her and stood up, pulling her into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and the last bit of stress she’d been holding in fell away.
“I’m really sorry I behaved so badly,” she said into his chest.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s over now.” He kissed the top of her head.
She stiffened.
“I think you should go take a nap, though. We’ll talk tonight.” He pulled away from her, chucking her chin with his knuckles.
“I’m not tired,” she said, but as the words fell from her lips, she sensed the weariness inside her. The emotional rollercoaster had taken its toll.
“Then do it because I said.” He shrugged.
“Ryder—” His fingers pressed against her lips to silence her.
“After your nap, Sammy. Not a second before.”
She swallowed back her words and gave a small nod. Laying down for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. It would give her time to get her words right, her feelings in order, then she could talk with a clear mind.
“Good girl,” he said softly, dropping his finger from her lips. He pushed her chin up higher and brushed his mouth against hers. “Off you go.” He turned her toward the door and patted her ass.
She walked from the kitchen, fighting the urge to run back to him and hug him tight. He’d wiped away all the stress, the worry, the angst when he could have yelled at her, kicked her out of his apartment, or just ignored her.
By the time she got back to her room, she could feel her eyes already starting to close. Grabbing her teddy bear from the n
ightstand, she pulled him close to her chest and laid down.
She was asleep in seconds.
Chapter 9
Ryder sat on the couch in the living room staring out the windows. Samantha had been asleep for over an hour, and her phone was buzzing in her purse constantly. He’d have to wake her up soon.
Then they needed to talk.
He’d spanked her. Pulled her panties down and spanked her bare ass.
Her perfect ass.
After she’d gone to her room, he’d sunk back down in his chair and stared at the open doorway, sporting the hardest erection he’d had in years.
If he’d ruined everything remained to be seen, but she’d fallen into his dominance with ease. Of course, she’d goaded him. It sounded like she’d had a shit morning and her emotions were running wild. He had no doubt she needed the spanking, and after her behavior, deserved it too. But she was his houseguest. His buddy’s friend. He’d crossed the line.
Now he needed to know if going back was possible.
Or wanted.
“Ryder?” Her soft voice came from behind him.
He turned around on the couch and saw her standing in the doorway, hair messed up, and a deep crease in her right cheek probably from the pillow.
“Can I have my panties back please?” she asked in a hushed tone.
He stood from the couch and picked up the folded panties on the coffee table. Rounding the couch, he brought them to her.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She took them, a blush forming on her cheeks.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. If he didn’t keep his hands contained, he’d probably touch her, grab her, hold her—fuck, he’d probably kiss her.
“Better.” She kept her eyes down and bunched the panties in her hands.
“Go ahead and put those on and we can talk,” he suggested.
She nodded and wiggled into the cotton briefs beneath her dress, keeping her gaze from him.
He probably had ruined everything.
Ryder went back to the couch. “Do you want something to drink? Glass of wine maybe?”
“Uh. No thanks.” Smoothing down her skirt, she walked around the other end of the couch and sank down into the cushions. Grabbing one of the pillows, she hugged it to her chest.
