Adored (3 page)

Her small hand moved towards the crux of her thighs, but she stopped short of touching herself, her body already arching in anticipation towards her fingers, but she was not quite able to make herself do what she really wanted, for some reason.  Instead she huffed and groaned and turned onto her side, dragging the sheet up from the tangle it had made at her feet and clutching it around her neck while she tried to will herself not to think of her moist, throbbing loins.

****************

“You drive a Miata?” he’d asked, his tone a bit strained.

Tessa was instantly on alert for some reason, having been lulled into a sense of security by his relative affability while they were driving to the small Mexican place he’d recommended after picking her up from the shop. They’d been talking about cars when she’d begun telling him about her aging Miata,  and how she’d probably have to take it to him for a check sooner than later.

“A green Miata with the rear fender hanging by a thread and one taillight out?” he prompted when she didn’t answer him immediately, sounding angry, somehow, for no discernible reason she could fathom.

“Yes, that’s it.”  How was it that he knew her car to a T when she knew he’d never seen it? “Why?”

“And you live out on Steven’s Road?”

She nodded.  They had found out earlier that they didn’t live very far from each other, although she knew her place was much smaller than his.

He leaned forward, deliberately occupying four-fifths of the small café table and placing himself so close in front of her that she could smell the coffee on his breath.  “Because I drive a big truck.  A big blue truck, and you pass me at hell bent for leather nearly every morning, whether there’s a double yellow line or not, that’s why,” he ground out.

Tessa’s hand went to her mouth, and she found she was having a hard time not laughing, which she suspected might not be the best response.  “Oh dear.  You’re the jerk in the truck that I curse out -” The damning words were already out of her mouth, so she finished the thought, “- every morning for going so bloody slow.”

“That is going to stop, now.  Immediately.”  There was a muscle ticcing in his jaw, and even though she’d only known him for a very short time, she knew he meant business.  “You had better not let me catch you passing anyone where there’s a double yellow line ever again.  Understand?”

Quite sure she didn’t want to hear the implied “or else,” or anything about his intentions if he saw her do what he’d just expressly forbidden, Tessa grabbed a hold of her sense of humor and nodded enthusiastically.

“Good.”  Sean cleared his throat and leaned back a bit, knowing he’d just brought the intensity of the date, which he had intended to be much lighter, up at least a dozen notches.

Tessa was relived that he had apparently forgotten entirely that she’d also flipped him off every morning, and she was in no hurry to remind him. He was already getting a little too close to her fantasies.  She had never really considered the idea that she might stumble upon someone in real life who had the same .  .  .  unique interests.  She wasn’t really sure what to make of him, although the very idea that he might actually spank her caused her to shift awkwardly in her seat, as if he’d already warmed her bottom before they came to the restaurant.

He was a perfect gentleman the rest of the evening, to the point that she was almost disappointed when he walked her to her door.  He had been so reserved all evening that she was on the verge of offering him her hand, and it looked as if he was just going to give her a platonic good-night kiss.  He stood with her on the stoop, both of them bathed in the glow of the porch light she’d left on for herself.

Sean didn’t intend to settle for that.  He’d spent the entire evening doing his best to suppress the impulse to reach over and lift her out of her seat to plop her down on his lap in front of God and everyone in the small restaurant.  On it, because they were in a public situation.  Over it would come later, he’d already promised himself.

They had thoroughly enjoyed talking about how much they both enjoyed the ocean and swimming and traveling and a good steak, as well as Quentin Tarantino movies, especially Inglorious Basterds.  Their tastes in television coincided nicely, too; Shameless and Walking Dead were high on each of their lists, although Tessa had argued that this season wasn’t anywhere near as good – or as plausible, if that was really a consideration in that type of program – as last year’s.

Sean admitted that he hadn’t much considered her point.  He’d confessed that he liked both of the strong male leads, and the fact that they got to kill the undead bad guys – a lot.   He also allowed as how he had gotten really hooked on Boardwalk Empire, too, and enjoyed watching it along with the Ken Burns series on Prohibition, but Tessa had never really been able to get into the storyline.  She was willing to attempt it again, though, and he liked that she was open to trying things she wasn’t certain about.

But now she was standing in front of him, in that cute, slightly hesitant way she had, looking up at him as if she was half worried he was going to kiss her, and half worried he wasn’t.

He dispelled all doubt almost immediately by using his crooked index finger to tip her face up just a bit, then settled his mouth onto hers – gently, very gently at first, giving her time to become a bit accustomed to him – then slanting his lips across hers, feeling her mouth open just slightly and boldly taking that small advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth unapologetically, his big hand coming up to cup the back of her head; big, rough fingers immediately engulfed and entwined in layers of silky, reddish brown hair that seemed to curl around them, as if inviting them to stay a while.

Tessa couldn’t think.  She couldn’t even remember to breathe, and ended up gasping for breath when he finally pulled slightly away, pressing his forehead to hers and saying in a very raspy tone that conveyed that he was not asking, “Invite me in.”

Normally, Tessa would balk at the idea that some man she barely knew was demanding to be allowed into her apartment.  She didn’t play those kinds of games.  She’d never slept with a man on the first date in her life and she didn’t intend to start now, and she felt he had a right to know that, even if it meant that he left her worked up and frustrated on her front porch.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.”

He didn’t seem to bat an eyelash at that.  “No, you’re not,” he agreed, as if he was telling her instead of the other way around.

Although she desperately wanted to know why he was asking to come in if he didn’t intend to press her for sex, Tessa decided she didn’t want to mess up a good thing and turned to fumble with her keys in the lock.

Finally, since she was getting nowhere fast, he took the keys from her and opened it in seconds himself, standing to one side to allow her to enter first like a true gentleman.  Her house was small but cute, decorated in a very feminine fashion in pale pinks and sea foam greens, with lots of plants and family photos adding to the comfortable ambiance.  He felt immediately at home there, like he hadn’t anywhere else for a very long time, and once he’d shut the door and locked it behind him, he came to take her back into his arms, only this time he didn’t kiss her.

Instead, his lips nibbled almost playfully around her ear, tugging gently at it until he finally whispered, “You have been very naughty, you know.”

Sean felt her tense in his arms and simply held her, fully prepared to release her if she let loose with an indignant scream or began to struggle in earnest to get away.  He had absolutely no interest in forcing anything about himself on anyone.

But he thought he had read her right, and her response to his occasional verbal forays in that direction had assured him that he was indeed on the right track.  She was, in fact, neither screaming nor trying to escape his embrace.  Instead, she had become stock still, like a rabbit that senses the presence of a predator.  The comparison was more accurate than she could know.

In a tone surprisingly soft and gentle, he informed her as he began to pull her inexorably closer against him, “You see, I remember that you pass me every morning in a great hurry, when it’s clearly not safe to do so -”

Her head, with its heavy curtain of gorgeous hair, came up immediately as she felt the need to defend herself against his damning statements.  “I am a very careful driver, and I always make sure there’s plenty of room to pass you!”  She sounded downright insulted.

“Whether you have determined that it’s safe is irrelevant.”  There was the steel she’d felt was always waiting to underscore his statements, no matter how tender his tone.  “The law forbids passing on a double yellow line, even if you knew there was no traffic coming in the other lane for the next ten miles, doesn’t it?”

Tessa frowned so severely that he found it hard not to chuckle at her, but he managed to keep himself under control.  “Well, I suppose if you put it that way,” she agreed with obvious reluctance.

“And although I don’t believe that there are any laws against directing obscene gestures at other drivers -”

Damn!   He had remembered!   She began worrying her lower lip again, not daring to peek up at him.

“I don’t consider that to be acceptable behavior for a lady.”

Tess did lift her head at that, opening her mouth to reply something about how sauces for geese and ganders ought to be pretty much the same, but he beat her to it.  “Or a gentleman, for that matter.”

“But -”

She was never able to finish that sentence, because as he was talking; he had dropped gracefully down onto the subtly-patterned loveseat behind him, bringing her down with him - not to sit down beside him, as she’d assumed, but instead to be carefully, firmly positioned over his lap, which she was humiliated to find gave him a bird’s eye view of her much-too-ample bottom as it was forced into embarrassing prominence.

Sean didn’t wait in the least before delivering five cracking swats to that well-rounded bottom, making Tessa wish she’d worn a Kevlar skirt, instead of hauling out one of her good linen skirts for him.

“Hey, cut that out!   You can’t spank me just because you’re an abominably slow driver!”

His hand claimed the entirety of her bottom before swatting her again.  “Let me think about that for a moment.”  Sean continued to rain down crisp, hard swat after swat.  “No, I think you just might be wrong about that, Tessa.”

Sarcasm noted, damn him!   “Stop – Sean – ow!   That really hurts!”

“I know.  It’s supposed to hurt, to help you remember not to endanger your life – as well as the lives of others – by driving so recklessly.  And also not to make obscene gestures at people you don’t know, no matter what the perceived provocation.”

She knew it was the absolute wrong thing to do, but Tessa couldn’t keep herself from issuing a derisive snort at that speech.  It just sounded abominably pompous.

Then she felt his hands go to her hips and her skirt beginning to rise slowly up her thighs.   She tried to remember some of her gymnastic moves from junior high to help her slide off his lap, but Sean didn’t intend to allow her to get away that easily.  He simply wrapped his free arm over her lower back, effectively blocking any escape.

Tessa now found herself unable to move in any direction.  Once he had better control of her, he managed with alarming ease to elevate the hem of her skirt to meet its waistband, leaving her bottom - clad in pantyhose with tiny pink bikini bottoms beneath them – even more defenseless against his discipline.  Not that her skirt had been much of a defense, but at least it had been some kind of layer between her bottom and his  hard, calloused hand.

Without missing a beat, he continued to spank her.  She had thought that the beginning was bad!   That was nothing in comparison to this atrociously intimate position, with his hand covering nearly every inch of her skin with every loud smack, the unfamiliar sound ringing in the air time after time as he continued to chastise her for her misbehavior.

How could she possibly have thought she wanted this? Now that it was happening Tessa decided it wasn’t sexy or hot or titillating in the least, damn it!   Her backside felt as if it were being slow-roasted over an open fire, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping - or even slowing.  Sean had covered every area of her butt five or six times over before he brought his palm down onto the back of her sensitive thighs - first one then the other. 

The shock of this new assault sent her into spasms of screaming with every blow – not that it helped her in the least.  She wasn’t sure which was worse – swats to the backs of her thighs, which had been relatively untouched for a while, but was an area that she hadn’t counted on him smacking at all, or her already well worked-over rear end, which was more suited to a spanking, but was already ultra-tender, sore and swollen.

By the time he stopped, she was a mess from crying and hoarse from screaming.  There was a big wet stain on the loveseat from where her tears had drenched the cushion. She was sniffling and sobbing and breathing in that jagged, rough manner that told him that she had learned the lesson he had been trying to impart.  Hopefully.

He didn’t let her up immediately.  Sean hadn’t spanked a lot of women.  He could count the number on one hand, in fact; he was, as he’d told her when they first met, very particular about his women, and had rarely indulged in one night stands.  They just didn’t work for him.  He wanted more from his woman.  He wanted this, right here – her lying across his lap, still trying to cope with the punishment he had seen fit to deliver, looking soft and sexy and feminine.