Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
EBook Offer
The Bartender
Sweet Texas Love - Book Three
Shanna Handel
Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Shanna Handel
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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is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Shanna Handel
The Bartender
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-503-1
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-567-3
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
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.
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Buttercup
Author’s Note
Other Titles by Shanna Handel
Shanna Handel
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Chapter 1
“Carrie,” Wes said, raising his voice over his wife’s anxious chatter.
Paper streamers and stars were flying across the living room. The large windows on either side of the fireplace showed the peaceful rolling landscape of the Texas ranch. Standing in the center of the room, disrupting the serene scene, was a curvy, little, golden-headed tornado. Haphazardly digging through a giant cardboard box, Carrie’s curls bounced frantically as her worrying continued. “And we still don’t have the cake ordered. You wouldn’t believe what that witch said to Jessica about me. But that is a story for a different day. I must finish tying the ribbon on the candle holders and…”
Wes tried again. “Carrie,” he said, his tone a warning.
Without pausing long enough to take a breath, Carrie said, “We have to be sure there is something to tie on the back of the car when they leave. Pie pans, or tin cans, or whatever the heck you are supposed to do.”
Enough was enough. Time for daddy's voice to make an appearance.
“One.” Wes waited. Finally, Carrie quieted, turning towards her husband. Blowing a stray golden curl up from her forehead, she threw her hands on her curvy hips. “What?” she sassily retorted.
Raising a brow at his tiny wife, Wes said, “Mistake, Carrie,” taking a step towards her. “That’s two.”
Taking her hands down from her hips, Carrie looked only slightly apologetic. Giving an exasperated sigh, she said, “Sorry. Yes, Daddy?”
“That’s better, Carrie girl.” Bending down and picking up a stray pink paper star, Wes said, “Be sweet.”
Carrie threw her hands into the air. “I’m trying, but there is just so much to get done. And I still haven’t even told you what that bakery brat said to me.”
“You should be enjoying this, Carrie. Not being frazzled. Surely wedding planning is less stressful than teaching?”
Laughing callously, Carrie said, “No way. Uh-uh. And Bridezilla wants everything perfect and Ray has us on a teeny tiny shoestring of a budget.” Crossing her arms, Carrie's voice took on a tired whine, “It’s impossible.”
Grabbing her shoulders in his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze, Wes spoke gently, “Slow down, baby girl. It will all get done.” Carrie’s term of teaching had been completed. Having abundant energy pent up in her little body, it needed to be released. The Poke town one-room schoolhouse Carrie had run a kindergarten class in last year had been a blessing to the small town. The school board had voted and agreed to have Carrie re-open but wouldn’t have the funding until the following year. With too much time on her hands, Carrie had thrown herself into this wedding planning, head first.
Wiggling from his grasp, Carrie spoke more calmly than before. “I will. Just after I find my cake topper,” she said, returning to her chaotic station at the coffee table.
“You need to relax before you get yourself into trouble,” Wes said, picking up and placing decorations back into the box. Pre-wedding planning, their living room had been a relaxing place. The large, tan sofa facing the stone fireplace and windows was the perfect place to watch the sunset over the hills. Soft, cream-colored rugs covered the polished wood floors. It was their retreat from the world. And right now, it looked like a party store had exploded within the walls. Wes did not like chaos. “The first thing you need to do is get yourself organized,” Wes said, picking through the pink and teal sparkly mess he had gathered.
Pausing her search, Carrie turned to Wes. “I know exactly where everything is, thank you very much. I only lost the cake topper.” Two more stars made their way to the floor as Carrie returned to the box of paper crafts. “Ugh. Men. You all don’t understand anything,” Carrie muttered under her breath.
Disrespect was a hard line for Wes. There was only one thing that could salvage the day and amend his little wife’s unpleasant disposition. His only regret was not taking care of it sooner.
“That’s three, and that’s a spanking.” Wes quickly sat down on the edge of the couch, grabbing Carrie and flipping the little b
it of a woman over his lap. Wriggling in his tight grasp, Carrie cried out as Wes started placing hard, methodical spanks on her denim covered bottom. The sound of loud, ‘smacks,’ filled the room. Wes wasn’t born with a hand like a paddle for no good reason.
“Ouchie. Sorry,” came the voice from below his knee. It wasn’t quite as sincere as he liked it, so he kept swatting, his hand making the lovely ‘smacking’ sound as it landed on his wife’s soft derriere.
“When Daddy calls your name, you need to pay attention, young lady,” Wes lectured, while continuing to spank.
“Yes, Daddy,” Carrie said, the sweetness coming back into her voice.
“It’s Daddy’s job to spank all that sassiness away, isn’t it baby?” Carrie continued to squirm as Wes heated up her backside.
“Ye-ouch. Yes, Daddy.”
“Eye-rolling and hands on your hips, well that’s just asking for a spanking. Isn’t it?” Wes asked. Displeased with the amount of wiggling Carrie was doing, Wes administered a sharp slap to the tops of Carrie’s thighs—his signal for her to be still.
“Yes!” Carrie quickly stilled herself. Carrie hated to have her thighs spanked.
Satisfied with his wife’s position, Wes continued to chastise the bottom that was perched perfectly over his thigh, making sure not to neglect a single spot. Especially that tender place where the soft curve of her bottom met the tops of her thighs, her ‘sit spots.’ Carrie had taken things too far, and as her daddy, he knew that the only way his baby girl was going to behave herself was sitting on a sore bottom for the rest of the day.
“Are you still wearing those little heart panties that you put on this morning?”
“Yes?” Carrie replied, sounding hopeful. The little peek she gave him over her shoulder told Wes that Carrie wondered if this punishment was taking a more romantic turn. She would have to wait for that. Disrespecting your man did not lead to sexy play time in Wes’ book. First, you had to pay your dues.
“Do I need to get out your Christmas paddle, young lady?” Wes asked. He had bought Carrie a special wooden paddle last Christmas, that hung from a ribbon in the closet of their bedroom. Wes loved to watch his tiny girl reach up on her tippy toes to retrieve the implement- she could barely reach it and always ended up asking for help. Wes didn’t use the paddle often, but when he did—Carrie was a very, very good girl afterward.
“No, Daddy, no,” Carrie whimpered.
“I can pull down these jeans and paddle your bottom until it is as red as the hearts on your little panties.” Wes repressed a chuckle as he watched Carrie look over her shoulder, wide-eyed, to see if her daddy was serious.
“Oh, no, Daddy. I’ll be good. I promise.” Carrie’s tone told Wes everything he needed to know. The paddling could wait for another day; his sweet girl was back. With a few more well-placed swats, Wes finished the job. Gathering Carrie into his arms, he felt his pride swell as she snuggled deep into his chest, her head resting over his heart, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Wes never could decide which part of their ritual he liked most: spanking his little girl’s lovely behind, or the special aftercare he gave his wife.
“Are you done being naughty now?” Wes murmured into the soft curls of her hair.
“Yes, Daddy,” Carrie sniffled, wiping her eyes with the collar of his shirt, as she tended to do.
“Are your sassies all gone, baby?”
Carrie nodded.
“I know you are under a lot of stress.”
“I hate weddings,” Carrie said.
“That is no excuse to be rude to your daddy. Do you need to stop helping Jessica with the decorating?”
Placing both of her hands on her daddy’s chest, Carrie protested, “No, no!” Carrie added quickly, “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”
Rubbing her back gently, Wes said, “I’ll do my best to take care of you and to help you. I want you to be my sweet girl today. Not a disrespectful, naughty, little thing.” Considering her brown eyes, he asked softly, “Can you do that, baby girl?”
Having buried herself back into his chest, the muffled answer was quiet, but he heard it. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Carrie girl, go sit your sore bottom down in the kitchen. I’ll bring you some paper and sweet tea, and we can make a list of everything that needs to be done.”
Carrie stood slowly, seeming hesitant to leave her cozy nest in Wes’ lap. Standing and grabbing her hand in his, Wes led Carrie to the kitchen. Seating Carrie on a wooden dining chair at the table, Wes went to the fridge.
The blue ceramic pitcher had a little chip at the top but was still a family favorite. Wes had snagged the pitcher of sweet tea from Mama’s house that morning. Filling a glass with ice and pouring the delicious brew, Wes watched Carrie wiggling in her seat. Her face wincing as she tried to find a comfortable spot to sit. Chuckling, Wes prided himself on the job he had done on her rear end. Carrie could squirm all she wanted. There would not be a way for her to sit without feeling her punishment.
Setting the glass by Carrie, Wes began gathering paper and a pen from the kitchen drawer. Joining Carrie at the table, Wes put the paper and pen down neatly. Making check boxes running down one side of the lined paper, Wes handed the sheet to Carrie. “Write the task on the line. In the margin, put the date you want to have it done by. As we finish the jobs, you can check off the little box.”
After taking a dainty sip of her tea, Carrie said, “I’ll give it a try.” Her voice once again sounded like his sweet Carrie girl. As it always did whenever she was freshly spanked.
“It’s better to make a plan than to waste time worrying,” Wes repeated his Mama’s familiar phrase.
“Okay, Daddy.” Taking another sip of her tea, Carrie started to write.
Soon, she had filled out every line on the front of the paper, as well as the back. Asking politely for Wes to make another sheet with, ‘the cute little boxes,’ Carrie wrote away, happily. Wes gladly obliged. Organization was the cure for chaos, just as spanking was the cure for sassiness.
Tuesday night was date night. Hurriedly, Jessica smoothed a pink sheen of lipstick on her lips and dabbed her pale lashes with jet black mascara. Checking her white-blonde hair in the mirror for any remnants of her toddler son’s dinner, Jessica was satisfied with her reflection. Jessica took one last look in the mirror to be sure she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Jessica said to herself, “That’s as good as it’s going to get.” Giving her reflection a final nod, Jessica dashed out of the bathroom. Date night was Jessica’s favorite night of the week and she didn’t want to be late.
Smiling as Jessica entered the living room, Mama said, “Have fun, Miss Jessica.” Mama had been the one to suggest the weekly date night for Ray and Jessica. Working daytime hours in her hair salon, it was hard to get couple time with Ray, as he owned the only bar in the tiny town of Poke, and worked most nights. Mama had insisted it was a priority to set aside an evening a week to relax together and luckily for the couple, Mama was more than happy to spend a quiet evening with her grandson.
“You know we will, Mama. Thanks again for babysitting.” Tickling Evan’s tummy as Mama held him on her hip, Jessica laughed at Evan’s sweet giggles. “Let’s keep it to two cookies this time, Mama,” Jessica said with a wink.
Feigning a look of innocence, Mama gave a shrug. “There are no rules for grandmothers,” she said. Giving Mama and Evan a kiss on the cheek, Jessica flew out the door and headed to Ray’s.
Pulling open the heavy oak door marked, Ray’s, in faded, gold lettering, Jessica scanned the bar. “Unbelievable,” Jessica laughed to herself. There were even more old bachelors seated in the bar than there had been last Tuesday when Jessica had arrived for ‘date night’.
Word had gotten out amongst the eldest generation of the town of Poke that on Tuesdays, Jessica could be found perched at the bar so they came to visit and chat. Last week Jessica had overheard an elderly rancher say, “Sure, Jessica is staring at Ray the whole ti
me, but us regulars can still appreciate a little eye candy.” Jessica didn’t mind, the men were sweet and harmless. She knew firsthand how lonely it could be being single. Jessica was glad if she could brighten someone’s day, and she was happy to help boost her fiancé’s drink sales.
Exchanging pleasantries and hellos, Jessica finally made her way through the crowd and over to the bar. Sliding into her usual barstool, the one closest to the spot where Ray liked to stand behind the bar, Jessica gave a contented sigh. The men of Poke town made sure to keep the stool open for Jessica. If anyone came in on a Tuesday and tried to sit there, well, there would be hell to pay until that person moved down a stool. Taking a deep breath, Jessica allowed herself to relax.
“Jessica’s here, Ray,” Harry called out from the back of the bar. Looking over her shoulder, Jessica waved at Harry. Standing in his faded denim bib overalls, Harry was leaning against the jukebox, tapping his foot along with the beat of the song.
“Harry, what is this music you are playing tonight? You know Tuesday night is Country Western night.”
“Just one more P. Diddy,” Harry said, hollering to be heard over the loud rap music. “I’ll turn on your sappy tunes after Puff Daddy finishes Mo Money, Mo Problems, I promise.”
Laughing, Jessica turned her attention back to the bar to look for Ray. A little flutter hit her tummy as the bartender appeared from the small kitchen in the back of the bar. Standing six feet five with muscled, tattooed arms showing underneath the short sleeves of his black tee shirt, Jessica never got tired of looking at her man. Having convinced Ray to stop shaving his head, Jessica admired the short, dark hair that met his beard. She had influenced the beard length as well, and it was now much shorter, but still long enough for Evan to tug at.
The Bartender (Sweet Texas Love Book 3) Page 1