by Thianna D
Smiling back, he pulled her onto his lap. "Hello. Have a good day?"
"Busy," she admitted. "So many things clogging up my head, I had to get them down."
"What do you mean?" Brent asked cautiously.
"I'm a writer," she explained, leaning against him. "So far, I get by with writing articles for women's magazines and some history websites. My dream is to have a novel at the top of the New York Times Bestseller list."
"So you write fiction?" he clarified.
"Mostly. Some of the articles I write are also historical, or, when I get asked by a good friend like Gena, articles on makeup, clothing fashions, or something equally as feminine."
Relieved that she was not a journalist, he pushed a little further. "What do you enjoy writing?"
"Lots of different genres, but my favorite right now is dystopian novels."
Amused, he grinned. "You like to write about cruel governments with inhumane laws?"
"Of course," she replied, grinning back. "They're fun."
Chuckling, he pulled her close, giving her a longer, more passionate kiss. As she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he whispered, "Ever work as a journalist?"
Laughing, she threw her head back. "Uh, no. All the rules they have to write by? No. I prefer fiction. I can write whatever I want."
Relief flooded through him as all doubt left his system. Good. She was not a journalist. Possible crisis averted. "What do you say we go to the movies?"
Nodding, she hopped up and walked down the hallway. "Be right back! Need to get my shoes."
"You should be wearing shoes this time of year," he called back. "It's winter, you know."
She made some sort of sound that clearly showed her opinion of his words, making his hand severely itch. At what point would he finally be able to swat her?
"Okay, I'm ready," she said, walking out in a form-fitting silver sweater over dark blue jeans. Black boots completed the ensemble.
"Very nice," he approved as she turned to grab her purse, giving him a view of her lovely derriere.
She turned and saw where he was looking. "Oh, dear, you are an ass man, aren't you?"
Grinning wickedly at her, he grabbed her coat, which hung from a hat stand near the door, and held it open for her. "You have no idea."
Her reticence when they first met was gone. She smiled and laughed freely, answering any question he gave her automatically, and as they pulled into the parking lot next to the clubhouse, she leaned forward in her seat and spotted the small theater. "Ahh, it's cute," she said with a smirk.
Jason was the first person he saw as the two of them walked into the theater. Jason sat in the middle next to his wife, Rose, and three of their grandchildren who were visiting. "Brent," he called, lifting his hand in a wave.
Guiding Char with a hand on her lower back, Brent led her to their row. "Jason, good to see you, as always," he said, while at the same time raising an eyebrow far enough to make his friend smile. Yes, he had done this on purpose. Turning to his wife, Brent smiled. "Rose, this is fortuitous. Let me introduce Char Kendle. She bought the old Jessup place."
Rose smiled warmly at the woman by his side. "It's nice to meet you, Char. What brought you to Colorado?" she asked as the two sat nearby.
Inwardly Brent rolled his eyes. Nothing like beating a dead horse. Jason and Rose had been his friends from the day he moved into their brownstone, taking a room they had for let. They would make sure Char was not up to something; in essence, they were trying to save Brent from himself. Which was amusing, considering the fact that they were the ones always telling him to date.
"I needed a change," Char said, and Brent could tell by her body language that she did not want to talk about it. But then, if he had just skipped out on his fiancé for some reason, he probably would not want to talk about it either. "And even with the snow, I love Corbin's Bend so far."
Rose laughed softly. "You'll get used to it. When the weather's good, a bunch of us go down to Denver to stock up on essentials. You should come with us next time we go." Relieved that Rose was including Char, Brent sat back and waited for the movie to start, taking Char's tiny hand in his. As she responded to something Rose said, she turned, looked down at their hands, and smiled at him before turning back to the other woman.
By the time the movie started, the two were talking like good friends.
"Okay, so I was expecting folding chairs," Char admitted after they arrived back at her place, making him laugh. "But that theater is really cute. Comfortable seating, large screen… there was one downside though."
"What was that?" Brent asked, following her inside and shutting the door behind them.
"No Red Vines at the candy counter. How can you run a theater without them?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder with a grin.
"Well, usually we like to keep the Red Vines eaters out of the theater," he explained in mock seriousness. "Guess we will have to add your name to the list of those not admitted."
"Shush," she said, laughing. "Want some hot chocolate?"
"Love some." He followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the center island as she gathered the ingredients from her cupboards.
"I've been trying to figure out what Kelli did when she made me that cup of hot chocolate," she said, putting a pot on the stove and pouring milk into it. "It was the best I have ever had, but so far, I haven't come close."
"Where's your alcohol?" he asked.
Surprised, she pointed into the pantry. He walked in, noticing how orderly it was. Two bottles of liquor sat off to the side, but they were not right. "You got any vodka?" he called out.
"Freezer!"
He retrieved the bottle, noting it was chocolate vodka. After asking where the mugs were, he took two out and poured a shot of vodka into the bottom of each mug, then put the bottle back into the freezer.
"Marshmallow cream?"
"In that cupboard," she said, pointing to the corner. He got the jar out and dropped a heaping spoonful on top of the vodka in each mug. She was stirring the milk as she watched him work. As soon as he replaced the cream, he picked up the small bottle of cocoa that sat nearby, putting a large spoonful on top of the marshmallow cream.
"That oughtta do it," he said, putting the cocoa back.
As soon as the milk was hot enough, she split it between the two mugs. Once they were back in the living room, she curled up next to him and took a sip. "Yes! This is it."
"Kelli has a way with hot chocolate," he agreed, taking a long drink from his own.
In a way, it was nice just to sit next to her, sipping a hot drink on a cold night. Now, however, he really needed to find out her thoughts on spanking. "Have you had the chance to read about our development?" he asked lazily as she placed her cup on the floor and lay down with her head on his lap.
"No," she hummed softly. "Just to get your phone nu— Oh!" she said, sitting up quickly and turning to look at him. "I owe you for my truck. That was why I called you in the first place." She turned a little pink, making him smile.
A part of him would have loved to say "you owe me nothing", but he knew enough about her to understand that would not sit well with her. "It cost six hundred forty-two dollars. Say six hundred and we're good." In consternation, he watched her grab her purse and fish out her checkbook, quickly writing out the check and handing it to him. Without looking at it, he stuffed it into his pocket. "That'll do it."
After tossing her purse to the side, she leaned in to him. "Stay the night?"
Chapter 5
He looked into her soft brown eyes for a long moment as his thumb caressed her cheek. "Yes, but I have a hypothesis to put to you first."
"A hypothesis?" she asked in amusement. "Am I being graded for my answer?"
"Only if you give the wrong one," he said with a wink, making her laugh. He was truly beginning to love her laugh. It was so uniquely her. "What would you say if I were to tell you Corbin's Bend was built on a specified idea?"
Leaning back,
she looked confused. "Meaning what?"
"Our development is an equity co-op."
"So, people don't actually own their own homes, they have to be approved and there are general guidelines for keeping one's stake." From her description, she had obviously dealt with them before.
"Correct. We are a group of people who may or may not have anything else in common except for one major thing."
"Which is?" she encouraged.
"Have you ever heard of domestic discipline?" he asked, no longer wishing to beat around the bush.
Her eyes widened and several expressions crossed her face before her brown eyes darkened with anger and she jumped to her feet. "That isn't funny!"
"I'm not trying to be funny."
"Oh, sure," she snapped, grabbing his coat and tossing at him. "How long have you known Jessica?"
"Who's Jessica?" he asked in frustration, wondering why she was acting like this.
"Who's Jessica," she snapped underneath her breath. "As if she didn't ruin my life before, she decided to ruin my new one…"
Standing up, he grabbed hold of her arms. "Char, who is Jessica, and what the hell are you talking about?"
"This! This whole thing! Was it supposed to be funny? Did you tell her about how I was so enamored with you?" she asked, her voice cracking as tears began to leak out of her eyes. "It's not fair!"
Not having any idea what was going on and yet knowing something was scaring her, he pulled her roughly into his arms and held her tightly. "Shh, calm down, Honey."
"I'm not your honey," she mumbled into his chest. "Just because I fantasize about it doesn't give you the right to ruin my life over it."
Seriously confused, he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom, placing her on the bed as he removed her boots. "Char, I think we're both missing pieces of the puzzle here. Just what am I supposed to be ruining your life over?" he asked gently and yet firmly while sitting on the edge of the bed.
Her pain-filled eyes met his. "Just because I'm interested in spanking doesn't mean you can pick on me."
A person should not be able to feel two such diametrically opposite emotions at the same time, and yet Brent was filled with happiness as well as anger at whatever she thought he was doing.
"Okay, let's start there. First off, there's nothing wrong with wanting to spank or be spanked," he stated calmly. "Second, who has made fun of you for it?"
She looked at him cautiously before responding. "My former friend Jessica."
"Ah, the Jessica you assumed I knew." She nodded. "Well, Char, I have known two Jessicas in my life. One was in high school, the other I dated once in New York. Neither were into spanking as far as I know."
She did not respond and, needing to get her to talk about it, especially as since she wanted to be spanked, he saw no reason their relationship could not go forward. He kicked his boots off and sat next to her by the headboard, pulling her up onto his lap. "Okay, so someone you know made fun of you because you are a spanko and because of that…" He paused, hoping she would fill in the hole.
"She didn't just make fun of me," she whispered in a small voice. "She ruined my life."
"How?" he asked gently, running his fingers through her hair.
"I told her my fascination with spanking one day, and in thirty-six hours, I lost my fiancé, my job, and my apartment. Coming here was supposed to be a new start." Her voice broke again on the last word.
Shit. No wonder she was freaked out about it. And what an idiot Nathan Korven was. "That had to be awful," he murmured, kissing her forehead lightly. "And we all understand. It is, in fact, why we built this development. So that those of us who are into spanking, either as a fetish or as a lifestyle, have a home where everyone understands."
"How can I tell if you're telling the truth?"
"Well, if you had taken the time to read the information in that envelope, it would have been made clear to you. Corbin's Bend is filled with people just like you."
"So, you like to—" She cut off and peeked up at him through her lashes.
"Oh, yes. I love to spank a beautiful ass a bright red."
Pulling back slightly, she searched his face. "Really?"
A smile stretched his lips further than he ever remembered. "I would be more than willing to prove it right now. Ever since you took your jeans off last night, I have wanted to smack those gorgeous globes."
"I-I've never actually been spanked before," she admitted, her eyes wide with interest.
"Then let me show you what it feels like."
It felt like forever before she finally nodded. "Okay."
Okay? She had just agreed to be spanked. Was she insane? And yet, Char felt calmer now than she would have expected. One of the reasons she had been so upset before was that she trusted Brent, and when he brought up domestic discipline, it had hurt to think he played her. To know that he was actually a spanko and interested in the same thing she was, was actually a comfort.
He lifted her onto her feet next to the bed and stood up next to her. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Just bend over? "Let's make this more comfortable," he said in his deep, rumbling voice she recognized from the night before, the one he used when he was turned on. Grasping her sweater, he pulled it up over her head. In no time at all, she found herself completely naked in front of him. His gray eyes stared at her, darkened with lust. Using a finger to tip up her chin until their eyes met, he sat on the bed. "Bend over my knees."
Oh! It was even going to be over his knee. Excitement raced through her even as she felt a trickle of liquid between her legs. This was even further proof it turned her on, not that she really needed that proof. How many spanking websites did she have saved in her browser? Walking to his right side, she began to bend, squeaking when he lifted her hips and placed them directly over his lap. Neither her hands nor her feet touched the floor. That was disconcertingly… exciting.
A warm hand rubbed lightly over her rump, making her squirm slightly in anticipation. "Stay still, Char," he said soothingly. The first strike was not bad at all, but she was shocked at how all of her senses were involved. The sound in the quiet room of his palm against her buttocks, the soft heat that bloomed right where he hit, not to mention the excitement that grew within her.
This was not bad at all. There was no pain, no discomfort, just the steady kiss of his hand spreading over her backend and the top of her thighs. The heat caused by each swat was actually nice, as the room itself was cold. Relaxing fully on his lap, she closed her eyes and sunk into it.
"All right," he said, stopping. Was that it? "All warmed up. Your flesh has a nice, soft rosy hue. Let's see if I can make it fire-engine red."
What?
Smack!
Her head and feet both rose at the same time in reaction to the searing heat spreading across the surface of her skin. The first time, she was in shock; the second time his hand came down, turning the heat up to a burn, she cried out. When the third blow fell, she kicked, trying to work her way off his lap. His other hand grasped her waist, stopping her from moving as his very hard hand came down again, this time hitting the crease where her buttocks met her thighs. All of her air left her in a whoosh and she could not move.
Until his hand fell again.
What the hell was this? It hurt. It really hurt! And yet… there was also something about it that felt really, really good. Each time his palm connected with her overheated skin, the pain made her want to scream and claw at him, but barely a moment later, even as the sting began to spread, pleasure took its place. Kicking her legs slightly as he swatted her upper thighs, she became instantly aware of how wet she actually was.
She truly was sick. How could this turn her—
Another loud crack filled the air as his hand once again landed on that sensitive area between thigh and ass, and a scream tore from her lips as her core throbbed and her abdomen tensed. She was not sure how she knew, but all it would take is one more hit to that spot and she would cum. And she really needed to c
um.
Breath coming fast in short gasps from her lips, she whined when his spanking hand settled over her red-hot skin, softly soothing her. "More," she gasped.
"I think you have had enough for your first time," he said quietly.
"No, please. More. So close. Please." The words poured out of her mouth. Unable to think clearly, one-syllable words were all she could articulate.
Instead of responding, she felt as his fingers slid between her thighs, sliding quickly through her wet lips. A low groan left his throat. "Fuck. It turned you on that much?"
"Uh-huh," she said, nodding emphatically. "Please, Brent. More."
His fingers moved smoothly along her folds, lightly touching her clit. "So ready," he murmured, his fingers rising and two of them thrusting into her pussy.
"Breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeent," she moaned as he moved them in and out of her core. He bent his fingers and rubbed against her in a way that took her straight back to fully aroused. Her abdomen clenched, her clitoris throbbed, and as she felt herself careening over the edge, his other hand came down on her ass.
Her wail was loud and long, even as her head and feet came up, almost meeting, in reaction to the orgasm. Waves of pleasure engulfed her, and for several minutes she rode out the strongest orgasm she had ever had. When she began to relax, he picked her up and placed her on the bed. "Elbows and knees," he said in a sharp voice and she quickly got onto all fours. There was the sound of a zipper and the rip of a condom wrapper, and then as his hands wrapped around her hips he thrust inside of her, sending her into another orgasm. He thrust hard and fast, rushing toward his own fulfillment, and she delighted in helping him get there even as her orgasm just seemed to continue, pushed ever onward with each prod of his cock. When he grunted and she could feel him throbbing inside of her, she squeezed her muscles hard, grinning when he moaned.
When he finally pulled out, she fell forward, flattening her body out. She could hear him in the bathroom and as he walked back in. "Damn, but your ass looks beautiful." Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening at how red the entire area actually was.