Corbin's Bend Season Two

by Livia Grant

  Livia Grant

  Don’t miss these exciting titles by Livia Grant and Blushing Books!

  Wanting It All

  Securing It All

  A Perfect Partnership

  Corbin’s Bend, Season Two

  By

  Rayanna Jamison

  ©2014 by Blushing Books® and Rayanna Jamison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Jamison, Rayanna

  A Perfect Partnership

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-675-5

  Cover Design by Anthony Walsh

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Chapter One

  Green Valley, Utah

  “Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence in church today.”

  “Hush, Loretta. Not in the Lord’s house.”

  “Pshh, all I’m saying is he hasn’t been to church in months! And to be his age and not be chosen for marriage– mark my words, Naomi– that one has secrets. Do you think maybe he’s…homosexual?”

  The lady in the pink hat’s voice dropped on the last word, but not enough that Josiah couldn’t hear her. He slunk down in his pew and tried to ignore the whispers and snickers that seemed to be coming from all around him. The old ladies and the young women were the worst. Discussing his marital status and the possible reasons for it seemed to be a favorite past time of theirs. It was ridiculous, really, as if they all had nothing better to do than to speculate on why he had never been chosen for marriage.

  At thirty-five, Josiah Jefferson was probably the oldest bachelor in the history of Green Valley— a polygamist community that believed women were given a vision or a word from God that told them the name of their intended husband.

  Once they had the name, they took it to the bishop, who would then inform the intended husband. Josiah had never gotten that call. In a community where most men had at least one wife by the age of twenty-one, Josiah was still a bachelor, hence the pointed stares and pitying whispers. Josiah was used to it really— it had become a daily occurrence over the last decade. It was never so bad as when he came to church, which is why he rarely went anymore these days. As a cop, his work schedule rarely allowed for it anyway. If he wasn’t pulling long shifts at work, he was resting up on sleep before one, or catching up after one.

  He was only here today because his mother had insisted. His newest nephew, his brother Hiram’s youngest, was being blessed today during services. As baby August’s godfather, Josiah was an integral part of the blessing ceremony. Hiram was his closest sibling, and although he wasn’t thrilled about dealing with gossiping, meddling old biddies, Josiah wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Baby Auggie was the first child to be born to Hiram and his third wife Sophia. Their story was one Josiah found inspiring. It gave him hope that someday he would find that kind of love. But Josiah was no dummy— he knew by now that he would not find it here in Green Valley.

  He had stopped expecting that phone call long ago. Josiah was not meant for plural marriage. He knew it, and God knew it. If he wanted to find love, he had to leave the only home he had ever really known. It was something he had known deep in his gut for a long time, and something he had been avoiding for just as long.

  Green Valley was his home. He loved the community and the values. His family was here, and his job was here. He had recently been promoted to detective on the Everton Police Force. Everton was the nearest big city. He couldn’t imagine living or working anywhere else. But to stay meant living life as a bachelor, and he wasn’t getting any younger. He wanted a wife and a family, and it wasn’t going to happen here, not for him.

  As he looked around the chapel at all of the happy families, he knew he really couldn’t put it off much longer. The familiar longing was becoming overwhelming, and he felt it to the core of his soul. He resolved to leave Green Valley as soon as possible. But where would he go? He supposed he could keep his job and just move to Everton, but that didn’t seem like a big enough change. He needed a clean break— and a new start. Everton wouldn’t give him that. Josiah had barely been out of the county. He couldn’t begin to imagine where to go. And that was only the beginning of his problem. How did one even begin to go about finding love on their own? Arranged marriages were all he knew. How would he begin in these modern times to find a woman willing to live a traditional domestic discipline marriage like the ones he had grown up around?

  That was the crux of his problem. He could leave the community, and the polygamy and the faith behind, but a traditional marriage where he was the head of his home was the one thing he knew he had to have.

  Did such a thing even exist outside of Green Valley? Josiah knew it must, but where? Sighing, he shifted in his seat and directed his attention towards the pulpit. The service was starting.

  * * * * *

  The very next morning, Josiah sat slouched in a chair in the church office, waiting for Bishop Miller to finish up his phone call. His trouble on Sunday in church had been the last straw, and he had asked for this meeting immediately after services, not wanting to give himself a chance to back out. It was time.

  He supposed he could do this on his own, but he needed to talk to the bishop and make it official— then there would be no backing out. If Bishop Miller happened to have some insight or connections that would help Josiah decide where to go from here, all the better.

  Bishop Miller hung up his call and sank into his oversized leather chair, tapped his hands on the desk, and looked at Josiah with a smile, giving him his undivided attention. You would think that Josiah was one of his most beloved parishioners and faithful attendees from the look he gave, but that was just the man’s style. He had been the bishop of Green Valley for almost three decades, and he treated everyone exactly the same. He was excellent at what he did, and everyone loved him.

  “Josiah, my boy, it was so good to see you in church yesterday!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, Bishop, I need your help.” Josiah hesitated. He wanted to leave on good terms, but people rarely did. Not that they often left on bad terms, they just didn’t leave. They had a good life here, and it was comfortable. To them, the outside world was a bit scary. Josiah could relate. He loved it here, that’s what made this so hard. He knew he had to do it though— and better to get it over with quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. He hoped that the more he said it, the easier it would get. He cleared his throat nervously while Bishop Miller gazed at him expectantly. “I want to leave Green Valley.”

  There. He said it. It was done. There was no going back now. He exhaled deeply. He hadn’t realized until now that he was holding his breath.

  “I see.” Bishop Miller’s tone was thoughtful. There was no anger or recrimination to it. It wasn’t the man’s style. He regarded Josiah matter-of-factly. “Is it your intention to apostatize yourself from the church?”

  “I…” Josiah frowned and trailed off, stunned. Apostasy had such a negative connotation in his mind. He flinched when he heard it, and considered the fact that he would indeed be an apostate. He knew from the bishop’s kind smile that the man had meant no harm, and that he would not be apostate in the form that one would usually think.

  “It’s a rather
strong word, I know. Shall we try this again? Is it your wish to leave because you do not wish to practice a plural marriage lifestyle?”

  Josiah sighed in relief. “Yes, Bishop, it’s become apparent to me— I mean, it’s been apparent to me for some time, that it is not the path He wants me on. And, it’s no longer the path I wish to be on either. I would like to withdraw my membership from Green Valley Community Church and announce my plans to leave Green Valley, with no bad feelings or ill will towards the belief system, or anyone here,” he clarified. “It’s just— it’s not for me.”

  “I understand.” The man’s sad smile told Josiah he did indeed understand, and he could see in Bishop’s eyes that he too had been privy to the mean spirited whispers and gossip that were becoming more and more rampant. “Do you know where you are going to go?” he inquired.

  “No, I have no idea. Besides police academy in Everton, and work, I’ve barely been outside Green Valley. I really don’t know what’s out there. And, there is one other thing, I was hoping you might have some insight.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t want a plural marriage, Bishop, but I do envy the relationships I see modeled in the community. I want a traditional marriage, I want to be the head of my home, and I want to live a domestic discipline lifestyle with a woman who sees the same benefits of it that I see. But, in today’s modern world, does that exist beyond Green Valley?”

  The Bishop smiled so broadly at this, Josiah was taken aback and more than a little confused.

  “By George!” he exclaimed excitedly, “I think I know just the place! Let me make some calls and see what I can find out! Can you meet me back here after lunch?”

  Bishop Miller was already picking up the phone, and Josiah looked on, stunned that he had been so quickly dismissed. Whatever the man had up his sleeve, he was clearly excited about it. The bishop waved him out and turned away from Josiah. Josiah took the hint and left, not really sure what to think about how the meeting had gone yet. Time would tell.

  * * * * *

  Lannea Paulsen, known to most as Laney, sighed as yet another moving van made its way past the store front of her cousin’s sushi restaurant and up the road toward Spanking Loop.

  Her cousin, Ginger, looked up from the vat of sushi rice she was stirring and gave her a quizzical look. “What’s up, Laney? You usually run to the window whenever a moving truck goes by. Don’t you want a peek at the new residents? Or, hopefully, new resident? Maybe it will be a hunky new bachelor that’s just dying to find a naughty sushi artist to take in hand!” Her cousin was teasing, Laney knew, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Ginger knew that was exactly what she hoped for every time a new resident moved to Corbin’s Bend, but she was beginning to give up hope.

  When Ginger and her husband Beau had announced that they lived a domestic discipline lifestyle, and were moving to a community in Colorado where they could be open about it, Laney had jumped at the chance to move with them. She didn’t know what had spurred their decision, but she suspected it had something to do with Ginger’s pregnancy. One minute she was researching doctors in Los Angeles, and the next they were moving to Corbin’s Bend, Colorado and opening a sushi restaurant. Laney would have gone with them anyway, but given as Ginger had a master’s in business and knew nothing about sushi other than how to eat it, Laney really had no choice.

  So Ginger and Beau had added her onto their application, and she had packed up her apartment and gone. She had had a nice life in L.A., but she had always wanted what Ginger and Beau had. She had tried for several years to find a man who wasn’t afraid to take her in hand for real, but Los Angeles was a city known for its metrosexual men. A few had attempted but, as they really didn’t know what Taken in Hand meant before she told them, it had felt more like sexual play than anything else and had left Laney feeling cold and unsatisfied.

  Laney had happened upon domestic discipline practices in culinary school when her best friend Mac had spanked her to get her to study for a big marketing test. Laney had complained that marketing and business shouldn’t be included in the curriculum, and that she was there to hone her cooking skills. Mac had listened to her whine, then turned her over his knee and spanked her until she agreed to study. She had aced the test, and she and Mac had entered into a platonic spanking relationship. It had been the most successful year of Laney’s life, and she had sworn to herself that she would have that in her relationships from then on. It hadn’t exactly happened that way, although she had tried. She hoped to find someone in Corbin’s Bend, but she had moved here almost a year ago, and while there was a steady influx of new residents, most of them were couples, and families with children. There had been a few bachelors but she had been so busy getting the restaurant going, there hadn’t been time to get to know anybody, and the few bachelors who had come had found love pretty fast. She hadn’t realized how much competition there actually was in Corbin’s Bend.

  “Laney, Laney, Earth to Laney!” Ginger was standing in front of her, waving a hand in her face to get her attention. “I’m not the sushi artist here, but I’m pretty sure that roll is done,” Ginger told her with an amused look on her face.

  Laney looked down at the Naughty Girl Roll she was making. Yup, it was rolled, probably a little too tightly. It was starting to look a little too skinny. She looked up at Ginger with a sheepish look on her face. Laney was a daydreamer, and it often caused her problems in her personal and work life. She lacked focus— she always had, except that one year in culinary school when Mac was taking her in hand.

  “Sorry, Ginger, I was just thinking.”

  “Yeah, I got that. I don’t know why you didn’t just go check that moving van like you always do. You’re obviously thinking about it.”

  “I wasn’t, actually,” Laney told her with a sad half smile. “That van was much too large for one person. It was obviously a family.”

  “Oh well, new customers!” Ginger said with a smile, subconsciously rubbing her belly. They had lost the baby she had been pregnant with when they moved to Corbin’s Bend, and it had been a devastating time, but she was now more than four months along, and things were going well with this one.

  “Not everyone loves sushi,” Laney reminded her with a grin.

  “Only because they haven’t tried yours— yet.” Ginger spoke with confidence, and Laney laughed.

  She loved her life in Corbin’s Bend, and even though it was tough at times, she tried to have patience and believe that her time would come. For now, she had a great job doing what she loved, a new niece or nephew on the way, and a community that allowed her to be herself without shame.

  Still, being around happy domestic discipline marriages all the time was hard. It sucked being surrounded by the one thing you really wanted, but didn’t have. Some days were harder than others. She knew that someday it would happen for her, and she spent more time than she wanted to admit fantasizing about finding a strong dominant man willing and able to call her out on her weaknesses, and turn her over his knee for a hard bare bottom spanking when it was warranted. Some days, it was all she could think about, and the longing she felt was overwhelming.

  She could picture the moment almost perfectly. She would be naked, in the corner, waiting for her impending punishment. She would have showered beforehand, and drops of water from her hair would run down her back, making her shiver with anticipation. He would tell her she was a naughty girl who deserved a long hard spanking and her pussy would clench at his words. He would call her over to him, and she would stand before him, nervously awaiting. He would put his hand on her back and lightly caress her, and suddenly she would be upended effortlessly over his knee. His hand would be large, and hard, and the first slap on her tender wet skin would take her breath away. She could hear his voice chastising her for some undoubtedly irresponsible thing she had done, as his hand came down again and again, turning her bottom pink until she was crying out and begging for mercy. But there would be none. The man of her dreams would pause and rub
her aching bottom for a moment, and she would weep in relief thinking he was finished. But then he would lift her off his lap, and reposition her over the bed. She would hear his footsteps as he made his way to the closet, and she would know that he was going for the paddle. She would whine and whimper, and she would know that when he was finished, her bottom would bear the marks of the infamous Corbin’s Bend logo that had been burnt into the wood, just so, designed to leave its imprint on the offender’s bottom for long after the spanking was over. He would walk up behind her, gripping the paddle tightly. “Let’s see if this will help you learn your lesson,” he would say, right before he swung. As the paddle made contact with its target, her bottom would explode in pain, and she would cry out, then bite down on her lip, forcing herself to welcome the pain of his correction, knowing that the intention was to make her better and curb her naughty and irresponsible behaviors. She would move her hips toward him, jutting her bottom out to meet the hard wood.

  Laney moaned out loud. As a glorified house guest living with Ginger and Beau, she hadn’t gotten her own welcome basket, which meant, she had never actually seen the infamous Corbin’s Bend paddle up close, but that made it all the more intriguing to her. The elusive paddle was the subject of all her fantasies as was the unknown man wielding it. Someday she would meet him, and her fantasies would become reality.

  “Laney…LANEY!”

  She shook herself from her delicious daydream to find that her panties had become damp with her arousal underneath her skirt, and to her embarrassment, she was in the kitchen at work, and Ginger was regarding her strangely.