by Paige Tyler
Daphne looked at the other woman in surprise, not because she had defended her, but because of the way she was standing up to the drug lord.
Meradino’s mouth tightened. “Do you really think you’re in a position to make demands?”
Claire wet her lips nervously, but she didn’t back down. “Do you? If you ever want to see your money again, then you’ll agree to let her go.”
Daphne held her breath. The drug lord was silent for so long that she was half afraid he would pull out his own gun and shoot her himself, but he finally nodded.
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, then glanced at the man who had asked what he should do with her. “Bring her with us.”
Meradino’s decision obviously didn’t sit well with the man she’d hit on the head because he scowled. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her to her feet and shoved her toward the door.
While Daphne was relieved that Meradino hadn’t ordered them all shot to death, she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going back to Virginia Beach with him and his goons. What would Zak think when he got there to find them gone?
But as it turned out, she needn’t have worried because the moment they stepped outside onto the porch, a dozen police cars pulled into the driveway, their lights flashing.
After that, everything happened so fast. Zak and the rest of the police jumped out of their cars, guns drawn as they ordered Meradino and his men to drop their weapons and get their hands in the air. A moment later, gunshots were echoing all around her.
Her pulse racing, Daphne instinctively ducked, finding what she hoped what was an out of the way place near the railing and covering her head with her arms. As scared as she was for herself, though, she was even more frightened for Zak. While she knew this was part of his job existed, she never allowed herself to think about it, but now she was getting to see it first hand and it terrified her.
Then, as quickly as the shooting began, it was over. Afraid to move from where she was, Daphne slowly lifted her head to look around. Meradino lay dead in the middle of the porch, several of his men lying around him. But her gaze locked on the two figures still standing on the porch and she gasped as she saw that the man who had come in with Meradino had taken Claire hostage and was using her as a shield, his gun to her head.
“Let her go and put down the gun!”
Daphne sagged with relief at the sound of her husband’s authoritative voice coming from the direction of the driveway. Turning her attention away from the two figures on the porch, she surveyed the area in front of the house, looking for Zak. He was standing several feet from the porch, his gun trained on the man holding Claire. The rest of the cops that had come with him were surrounding the house as well. Except for the uniformed officer who was physically restraining John to keep him from rushing to Claire’s rescue, they all had their weapons aimed at Meradino’s man.
“I’m a cop,” the man shouted back, and Daphne realized this must be Martin Thompson, the detective who was in Meradino’s pocket. “I’ve seen what happens to cops in prison and I’m not letting you take me in.”
Daphne saw Zak give the detective standing nearby a sidelong glance, as if asking whether he could get a clear shot at Thompson, but the other man shook his head. His jaw clenching, her husband turned his attention back to the front porch.
“Then since you’re a cop,” he told Thompson, “you also know that we’re not going to let you just walk out of here with a hostage. Now, do the smart thing and let her go.”
Daphne held her breath as she waited for Thompson to obey. But to her dismay, the man only tightened his grip on Claire and pressed the barrel of the gun more firmly to her head. Claire whimpered.
As the standoff continued, Daphne grew more and more tense. If anything happened to Claire, she’d never be able to forgive herself. She had to do something to distract Thompson. But what?
Her gaze dropped to the ceramic flower pot beside where she was crouched and an idea immediately formed in her mind. Hitting Meradino’s thug on the head had worked when the man had been holding Claire at gunpoint that morning. Maybe it would work on Thompson, too. Careful to keep her movements slow and unhurried so that Thompson wouldn’t see her out of the corner of his eye, Daphne picked up the flower pot and got to her feet.
Clearly guessing her intention, Zak gave her a warning look, but Daphne ignored him. Lifting the ceramic pot high above her, she stepped up behind Thompson and brought it down hard on the back of his head. The man crumpled to the porch, releasing his grip on Claire in the process. The woman immediately ran down the stairs and over to her husband, who met her halfway to envelop her in his arms.
Afraid that Thompson would get to his feet and come after her, Daphne started to back away. Zak and two other detectives were on the porch before she could move. Thompson was too groggy to even protest as one of the detectives slapped a pair of handcuffs on him.
Leaving Thompson to the other cops, Zak hurried over to where Daphne was standing. She threw herself into his open arms, holding onto him tightly.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Zak said, the words muffled in her hair as he pressed his cheek to the top of her head.
Daphne didn’t answer, but only tightened her hold on him, relieved that the whole thing was finally over.
* * * *
It was almost midnight by the time she and Zak finally got home. Since he knew he was going to be tied up with paperwork once they got back to the station, he had wanted to have a police officer take her home so that she could get some rest, but she had refused, wanting to wait for him. She had thought he would insist, but instead, he’d set her up in the breakroom with a cup of tea and told her he would be as quick as he could.
Daphne studied her husband from beneath lowered lashes as he tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter. Because they’d had both cars, they had driven home separately from the station, so this was the first time they’d been alone since he’d met her at her parents’ house that afternoon. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t quite know where to start.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “About snooping on Claire and John, and about calling Thompson, and about...”
Zak reached out to gently cup her cheek. “I know,” he said when her voice trailed off. “But at least one good thing came out of it. With Meradino dead, John and Claire don’t have to spend the rest of their lives on the run.”
She gave him a small smile. “That’s true.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to spank you for what you did, though,” he told her. “Especially for what you did with the flower pot. That was beyond foolish.”
Daphne had naturally assumed she was going to get spanked, but she couldn’t stop from automatically opening her mouth to protest. His next words silenced her, though.
“However,” he added, “considering all the good that came out of this, I don’t think I’ll be spanking you that hard.”
She said nothing. It was the best she could hope for, she supposed. And she really did deserve it, she told herself as she allowed him to lead her upstairs. Once in the bedroom, he led her directly over to the straight-backed chair. Daphne frowned a little when he picked up the hairbrush on the way, but didn’t protest as he sat down. Knowing what was expected of her, she unbuttoned her shorts and pushed them down, then wiggled out of her panties before draping herself obediently over her husband’s knee.
As he placed his hand on the small of her back, Daphne automatically held her breath. She knew that any moment now, he would bring the hairbrush down on her poor defenseless ass and she was surprised to feel Zak’s hand come down on her right cheek instead. It wasn’t exactly a light lovepat, but it wasn’t exactly a hard smack, either. Nevertheless, she still jumped a little. She couldn’t believe he was actually going to give her a warm-up first, but she didn’t complain as his hand connected with the opposite cheek.
Zak fell into an easy rhythm, spanking first one cheek and then the other until her b
ottom felt warm and tingly all over. She could almost forget she was getting a bad-girl spanking. But in the next moment, she got a not-so-gentle reminder that this wasn’t a good-girl spanking as the business end of the hairbrush suddenly smacked against her ass.
“Owwwww!” she yelped.
The hairbrush came down on her other cheek with another resounding smack!
Daphne let out another yelp as she craned her neck to look at him over her shoulder. “I thought you said you weren’t going to spank me hard.”
“I said I wasn’t going to spank you that hard, and I’m not,” Zak corrected her. “Now, behave and turn around.”
Daphne gave him a pout, but did as he told her, turning back around to gaze down at the carpeted floor once more. As soon as she was in position, Zak immediately began spanking her again. Even though he wasn’t using it hard, the hairbrush still stung like crazy, and she squirmed and kicked for all she was worth as he expertly applied it to her bottom. It felt like her ass was on fire!
“Owwwww!...honey, please...” she squealed. “I...owwwww! ...promise...owwwww!...that I’ll...owwwww!...be good from now on...owwwww!”
“Meaning that you’ll do as I tell you?” he asked as he brought the hairbrush down on her stinging ass cheeks again.
“Yes!”
The brush came down again. “And that you won’t snoop on the neighbors anymore?”
“Yes!”
And again. “And that you won’t pick up any flower pots any time soon?”
“Yes!”
“Then a couple more right on your sit-spots should make sure you remember that,” her husband said.
Daphne opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t need any extra reminders, but all that came out were squeals of protest as Zak made good on his words and administered half a dozen very hard smacks to her very tender sit-spots.
Then it was over and she was back on her feet. Before she could even reach back to rub her stinging ass cheeks, however, Zak pulled her down to sit on his lap. She gasped as her tender bottom came into contact with the rough material of his jeans.
“That was a really hard spanking,” she complained as he put his arms around her.
“I only do it because I care about you and because I don’t want you doing something that foolish, or that dangerous, ever again.” His mouth edged up. “And because I love you so much.”
Daphne felt herself melt. How could she hold the spanking against him after he just said something like that?
“And to show you just how much I do love you,” Zak added, “I’m going to spend the rest of the night making love to you.”
And he did.
* * * *
Daphne invited Claire and John over for dinner the following weekend. The couple seemed much more relaxed now that they didn’t constantly have to live in fear of Meradino finding them. They didn’t even have to worry about Martin Thompson, either, because the detective had turned state’s evidence against the rest of the Meradino crime family in return for a reduced jail sentence.
As she was pouring coffee, however, Daphne couldn’t help but notice that despite how well everything had turned out, Claire still looked a little down.
“I’m fine, really,” the other girl said when Daphne asked her if she was okay. “It’s just that I wish I hadn’t been so quick to get rid of everything from our old life.”
Daphne set the coffee pot down on the table. “That reminds me.”
Exchanging a smile with Zak, she hurried into the living room, only to come back into the kitchen a few minutes later with a box wrapped in colorful gift paper and topped with a huge bow.
“What’s this?” Claire said when Daphne had handed it to her.
“Open it and find out,” was all Daphne said.
Smiling, Claire eagerly tore into the paper, only to gasp in surprise when she saw their wedding album nestled carefully in the tissue paper.
“I have all of your other photo albums, too,” Daphne said.
Setting the box down on the table, Claire stood to give Daphne a hug. When she pulled away, there were tears in her dark eyes.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done,” Claire said. “If it wasn’t for you, John and I would still be looking over our shoulder, or worse.”
Though Daphne smiled, she couldn’t help thinking that if it hadn’t been for her, Meradino would never have caught up to them in the first place. She was just glad everything had worked out.
As they were having dessert a little while later, Claire mentioned that the house on the corner must have sold because she noticed people moving in the other day. Though Daphne didn’t comment then, her curiosity finally got the better of her and she couldn’t resist saying something to Zak after the other couple had left.
“I wonder what the people who just moved in are like,” she said. “Maybe Claire and I should introduce ourselves. Maybe bring them a Bundt cake or something.”
Zak slanted her a warning look. “Don’t even think about it.”
Daphne gave him a pout. “I promise not to snoop. I just want to welcome them to the neighborhood.”
“I don’t know if it’s possible for you not to snoop,” he said.
“I think I’ve been very good the past couple of days,” she told him. “Now, where is my Bundt pan.”
Opening the cabinet she kept the bake ware in, she took out the Bundt pan and turned back around.
“Honey,” Zak said, his expression mock-serious. “Put down the Bundt pan and step away.”
Daphne hid it behind her back. “And if I don’t?” she teased.
Her husband grabbed a big wooden spoon from the utensil caddy. “Then you’re going to feel this on that saucy little bottom of yours.”
His words sent a delicious tingle coursing through her body, and Daphne had to bite her lip to stifle a moan at the sexy glint in his eye. She hoped that meant what she thought it did. There was only one way to find out. Giving her husband a grin, she turned and ran up the stairs, Zak hot on her heels.
THE END
About the Author
Paige Tyler is a full-time, multi-published, award-winning writer of erotic romance. She loves writing about strong, sexy, alpha males and the feisty, independent women who fall for them. From verbal foreplay to sexual heat, her wickedly hot stories of romance, adventure, passion and true love will bring a blush to your cheeks and leave you breathlessly panting for more!
For more of her sexy, erotic fiction visit her website at
http://www.paigetylertheauthor.com
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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 advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.