Contents
Title Information
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Niine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
A Word From Maggie
A COUNTRY MUSIC CHRISTMAS
MAGGIE CARPENTER
ADULT ADVISORY
This book is for adults only, and contains scenes of spanking, graphic sex, bondage, sensory deprivation, and are fantasies only, intended for adults. This book is not for children, nor does it condone corporal punishment of children. This book also contains scenes of violence. This book does not support nonconsensual spanking or any other nonconsensual activities, sexual or otherwise.
Cover
Summer Graystone
https://www.facebook.com/summerspixels
Published by
Dark Secrets Press
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CHAPTER ONE
Summer froze, then sharply pulling her phone from her ear she held her breath. What the hell could she say?
"Summer? Summer are you there?"
Her thumb automatically slipped over the OFF icon ending the call, and dropping the phone on the table, with her heart sinking, she turned around. Liam was moving slowly towards her wearing a dark frown, his milk chocolate eyes were narrowing, and his full lips were grimly pressed together. How could she explain herself?
She was screwed. Absolutely, one-thousand-percent screwed.
"I-uh—"
"Don't even try," he growled, "I've heard enough. When you came knockin' on my door lookin' for a job you were here for one reason and one reason only, a record deal. You lied to me."
Summer had never felt her heart pump so fast, nor her face burn so hot.
"And what about all those cozy talks we've been havin'," he demanded, drawing closer, "and the flirtin' in your painted-on jeans? Damn, all this time you've been playin' me. Totally playin' me."
She could hear the hurt in his voice. It was killing her. She may have arrived on his doorstep wanting to be the next Taylor Swift, and she still did, but in the three months she'd been there she'd fallen for him, and hard. He'd stopped directly in front of her. His cologne was tickling her nostrils. She loved the smell. A few weeks earlier she'd sneaked home one of his T-shirts, and each night she'd crawl into bed, close her eyes, and inhaling the spicy, musky fragrance she would dance her fingers against her sex.
Suddenly it happened. The glorious unthinkable.
Without warning his fingers were tangled in her hair, he was tugging back her head, and his lips were devouring hers. She couldn't breathe, her stomach was alive with a thousand butterflies, and her heart was somersaulting against her chest. He abruptly broke away, and to her horror, with a life of its own, her hand unexpectedly flew from her side and slapped him.
"Oh, my gosh, Liam, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that."
But his eyes were blazing down at her. She needed to escape, to run, to hide.
"You think offense is gonna be your defense?" he scolded. "That's not gonna work on me, Summer Brown."
Suddenly his arm was around her waist and lifting her off the ground. She squealed, her legs kicked out, but that was all she could manage before his hand landed on her backside in a flurry of hard swats. The short sharp spanking lasted only seconds, but when he set her on her feet her backside was hot and stinging.
"H-how d-dare you?" she railed, but her voice had sounded thin, and when she'd stammered her protest her eyes had been glued to the floor.
"Look at me," he said sternly, ignoring her defiant outburst. "Right now! Look at me!"
"NO!"
"Summer!"
"After what you just did I don't want to look at you. Why would I?"
"Because I'm tellin', you to, and from where I'm standin' it seems like the smart thing to do."
Swallowing hard, she slowly raised her head.
"Did you really think if you were singin' while you were workin' I'd walk up and say, hey, girl, that's a real pretty voice you got? Did you think I'd magically sign you to a million dollar record contract? Is that what you were thinkin' when you lied your way into a job here?"
"Something like that," she murmured, then feeling an unexpected spark of defiance she tilted up her chin and glared at him. "How else could I get you to hear me? I can't afford to cut a demo, but dammit I can sing. I can sing anyone under the table."
Her voice had risen in pitch and volume. She'd meant every word of it, but she also knew she'd been wrong to deceive him. At any time over the last three months she could have come clean and admitted why she'd knocked on his door, and politely asked if she could audition.
"Honey, that's a fairytale," he said solemnly. "I don't mean to be unkind, but there are thousands of pretty girls with pretty voices, and a whole bunch of them have come into my life with all kinds of excuses, believin' if they sang a few bars I'd fall over myself to get their name on the dotted line. It doesn't work that way."
"But…"
"But, nothin'," he said, cutting her off.
An awkward silence suddenly fell between them, and needing to shift her gaze from his scolding glare she glanced across at the window. In spite of the circumstances she broke into a smile. It was snowing!
"I guess the storm they talked about is comin' in. This place is gonna have a white Christmas," he remarked, walking away to stare out at the weather. "I think you'd better leave."
"You're not firing me, are you?"
Liam thrust his hands in his pockets. That's not what he'd meant, though the thought had crossed his mind. The forecasters had warned of heavy weather and he wanted to make sure she was home before it turned bad.
"I'm sorry, honestly, I really like it here," she said earnestly, "and, uh, I really like you."
He turned and looked back at her. There had been a hot chemistry between them from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other, but when he'd heard her on the phone saying she'd been singing up a storm all morning hoping he'd notice her voice, he'd felt a surge of fury. She'd lied, but she'd looked so damn gorgeous, her face flushed and her honey-blond hair falling around her shoulders, the impulsive kiss had taken hold before he'd been able to stop it. He almost couldn't blame her for slapping him. He'd blindsided her.
"Please say something. Please tell me I'm not fired. I'm so sorry."
"I need to think about this," he muttered, "and you'd better go before—what the hell is that?"
A series of beeps filled the room, and he realized his many electronic gadgets were shutting down.
"Is the power off already?" Summer exclaimed. "How could that be?"
"It doesn't matter. I have a generator. It should kick in pretty quick."
"Thank goodness. We have one too. With dad being away so much he insisted on it."
"You'd best get home," he declared as everything clicked back on.
"But, uh, you didn't answer my question," she said nervously. "Am I fired?"
"I said I need to
think about it. Lyin' to me for three months? That don't sit well with me."
"You just kissed me and whacked my ass!" she retorted. "Maybe that doesn't sit well with me either!"
But she instantly regretted her outburst. Fresh anger was glinting from his eyes.
"Is that right? Are you sayin' you didn't want me to kiss you?"
She did, of course she did. She had dreamed about him planting his lips on hers more times than she could count, and the real thing had been amazing.
"Are you tellin' me you didn't like it?" he pressed. "Why the sudden silence? You've had a lot to say for yourself up 'til now."
"Let's just say it was unexpected."
"That about as evasive as a slick-tongued salesman, but at least it wasn't a lie. Now go and have a happy Christmas with your family. I'll think things over the holiday."
"How can I have a happy Christmas with this hanging over my head? That's not fair."
Liam paused. She was right.
"Call me in the mornin'. I'll be leavin' for Nashville around ten."
"I am sorry, Liam."
"I know," he sighed, hearing the regret in her voice. "I'll walk you outside."
They were in his den, a masculine man-cave with wood paneled walls, coffered ceilings, recessed lights, a solid antique desk, and a dark brown leather chesterfield sofa that sat in front of a fireplace. The room was her favorite place in the house. It looked like him, it smelled like him, and the platinum and gold records mounted proudly on the walls, and the line of Grammys on the fireplace mantle, inspired her every time she was there.
"I love that room," she remarked as they started down the hallway to the front door.
"Thanks, yeah. It was clear in my head when I started renovatin' this place."
"It must be amazing to sell millions of records and accept a Grammy. I dream about it all the time."
"Takes a lotta hard work to get there, so yeah, it's a great feelin'," he replied as they lifted their coats off the hall tree.
"My dad says if you love something it's not work."
"What does your dad do?"
"He's a marine. Didn't I tell you? He's home for the holidays."
"Nope," he said, opening the door. "You should be proud. Tell him Merry Christmas from me, and thank him for his service."
"I will. Wow, it's falling fast!"
"I should take you in my Rover."
"I'll be fine. I'm used to this, besides, I have a Subaru and it's not far."
"Be careful, drive slow, and call me the minute you get home."
Firmly gripping her elbow he walked her down the front steps to her car and opened the door.
"Remember, call me when you get home!"
"I promise," she said, climbing in behind the wheel.
Shutting her door he hurried back to the protection of his porch, staying there to make sure the tall iron gates opened, then hurried back inside. Pulling off his jacket he strode to his kitchen, poured himself some hot coffee, and sat down on the padded bench seat in the breakfast nook. The bay window overlooked his backyard, and the expansive lawn was quickly turning white. Reaching for the phone he called the local airport.
"Apple Valley Air."
"Hey, Wally, it's Liam Taylor. Am I gonna be able to take off tomorrow?"
"Doubtful. The storm developed bigger and quicker than anyone forecast."
"What if I raced out there now?"
"Hmm, maybe. Hold on."
Liam began drumming his fingers on the tabletop. He wasn't far from the airfield, and his jet wasn't some tiny Cessna, it was a Gulfstream G550.
"We're good for about an hour then we'll be closing down."
Thanks, Wally. I'm goin' for it."
"I'll call Frank and see if I can scout out a co-pilot."
Frank was Liam's pilot, an ex-naval officer who had once been a Top Gun. He wasn't just an outstanding flyer, he had become one of Liam's closest friends.
"Thanks, Wally. I'll see you shortly."
Racing up to his bedroom he placed his half-packed suitcase on the bed and hurriedly threw in the last few bits and pieces. There were gifts that still needed wrapping, something he'd planned to do that night, but he could have fun recruiting his niece and nephew to help. Quickly changing, he carried his bags into the garage and placed them in the back of his Range Rover, then heading back inside he returned to his den to make sure he'd not forgotten anything, but as he stood behind his desk the kiss flashed through his head. It had sparked his cock to life, and he'd loved smacking her ass. She was a sassy spitfire, and he'd thought about throwing her over his knee more than once.
Shaking off the salacious thoughts he glanced at his watch. It had been twenty-minutes since he'd talked to Wally, and he realized he hadn't heard from her. He didn't know exactly where she lived, but she'd often told him her house was just through town. Pulling his phone from his pocket he touched her name. The sound of Blake Shelton's voice suddenly filled the air, and he immediately recognized Summer's ringtone. Glancing across the room her phone sitting on a side table.
CHAPTER TWO
Cursing himself for not having Summer's home number, and not wanting to waste precious time trying to track it down, Liam decided to call directory assistance on the way to the airfield.
"Shoot, maybe I should take her phone with me and ask Wally to get it to her," he muttered, staring at the phone in its sparkly pink cover. "Yeah. I'll be gone at least two weeks and she'll need it."
Dropping it into his briefcase he hurried into the foyer, set the alarm, and strode quickly through the house and into the garage. Hitting the remote control button on the wall as he entered, he paused for a moment to glance out at the weather as the garage door rolled up. He grimaced. The snow was no longer floating down, but being driven by gusting winds. Climbing behind the wheel of his powerful Rover he dropped his briefcase on the passenger seat and backed out on to his driveway. He would abide by Frank's decision. Frank was a confident, tough pilot who could fly through just about anything, but the man wasn't reckless.
Putting his SUV into four-wheel drive, Liam moved cautiously forward, and looking ahead he let out a heavy sigh. Visibility was terrible. His home was set on a knoll, and as he wound carefully down the hill he could see red brake lights ahead, but as he drew closer he saw the car was nose-down in a ditch! Stopping and lowering his window, as he peered through the swirling snow he realized, to his horror, it was Summer's car!
Urgently touching the phone pad on his console he dialed 911 but the call didn't connect, and glancing at the screen he saw there was no service. Cursing under his breath he drove forward to the narrow shoulder and hurriedly climbed out. As he started back he noticed the incline beside him was gently sloped, but where the car was stuck was a sharp drop. Worried he wouldn't be able to reach Summer from the road he moved carefully into the ravine. Trudging forward he tried to hasten his step, but the side of the bank was quickly becoming perilously steep, and with the wind and snow billowing around him it was difficult to keep his balance.
Trying to control his mounting panic he pushed ahead, slipping and sliding on the slippery bank. He was getting closer, and as he scrambled over the last few yards to the driver's door his foot caught on a rock hidden under the snow. He was pitched forward, and as he fell violently against the side of the car he banged his elbow. The blow sent a shard of painful tingles through his forearm and down into his hand, but ignoring it he regained his balance, and grabbing the roof rack he dropped his other hand to the door handle and pulled. Though it creaked loudly, with a couple of strong tugs it opened, and heart thundering he lowered his head and looked inside; Summer's tear stained face and wide eyes stared back at him.
"Liam, th-thank G-God."
"Summer! Are you hurt?"
"N-no, I don't think so. Just f-freaked out and f-freezing. Sh-shaky, you know? I'm all sh-shaky. I c-couldn't get the d-door open and my ph-phone, it's not in my p-pocket. Liam…I thought I was going to d-die here."
"Le
t's get you out, but be careful, the bank is steep, and it's slippery, real slippery."
Peering past him she saw the perilous path.
"Sh-shit. How will I b-be able to g-get th-through there? It's s-straight down."
"Only for a short distance then it levels out. Just go slow."
"My b-bag," she muttered, turning her head to look at the passenger seat.
"Does it have a shoulder strap?"
"Uh-huh. Liam, I'm s-scared, and m-my legs f-feel all w-wobbly. I'll n-never m-make it."
"Let me see if I can get to the other side of the car. Maybe it's not as bad. Wait there."
"W-wait? Where w-would I g-go?"
Her quick retort was the last thing he'd expected, but it was reassuring, and struggling around to the front of the crunched vehicle he clambered on to the tree trunk. It was tall and wide and he was able to view the opposite side of the ditch. The slope was kinder, and greatly relieved he made his way to the passenger door. To his surprise it opened without a fight.
"Climb through here," he said, but as he extended his hand to help a powerful blast of wind gusted around him. The storm was strengthening, and glancing up at the overhead trees he could easily imagine the branches breaking away. "Come on, we need to get outta here."
"Okay."
She began climbing over the console, but the car suddenly creaked and she stopped, panic-stricken.
"Wh-what was th-that? F-fuck. It's g-going to f-fall down the b-bank!"
"It's okay, it's stuck, you're fine, keep comin'."
"Shit, shit, shit."
"You can swear all you want, just keep comin'."
"F-fuck, this is horrible."
"That's it, you're almost here," he said confidently, helping her out of the mangled car.
Picking up her bag and throwing it over his shoulder, with his arm around her waist they started off, but after climbing up the bank to the road he could see she was on her last legs. Swooping her he carried her through the wild weather to his car, and setting her on her feet he opened the door, tossed his briefcase on the floor, and deposited her bag on top of it.
A Country Music Christmas Page 1