No More Laters

by Coleen Singer

  Closing her eyes and relaxing her muscles, Jill focused everything on that plump mound of flesh now bouncing and quivering beneath his hand. He was pausing between each spank, and it began to seem to Jill that it was in slow-motion. Without knowing how, she felt him raise his hand, saw it poised mid-air and then saw its slow, even descent towards its waiting target. Smack! She felt the impact like a slow-motion film of a pebble falling in a lake, felt her soft plumpness flatten beneath the impact, and then felt it bounce back sending vibrating ripples from her surface right through to the central core of her being.

  Beginning with a sharp scorching sting on her skin, the sensation mellowed and thickened until it was a round firm caress by the time the ripple reached its conclusion deep within her.

  "Oh!" she gasped as another flash of pain shot through her. The sting was becoming more unbearable, but she didn't want the spanking to end. For this moment, whilst there was nothing else in the world but the slow, measured rise and fall of his hand on her bottom, he was hers. Everything else had vanished and this moment, this spanking was all that existed. When it ended, he would no longer belong to her, he would no longer be part of her as he was now. He would be separate, aloof, distant again, and so Jill desperately tried to make this moment last as long as possible.

  If he knew how much her bottom was already stinging, he might think the punishment sufficient, so she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out, and steeled her body to dull its reaction to the punishment he was inflicting.

  I love you, Michael. I love you Michael, she intoned silently to herself, over and over and over, finding it helped her surrender her will to his and so continue to submit to the spanking despite the furnace now raging in her crimson bottom.

  But magic minutes, no matter how desired, no matter how cultivated, no matter how cherished are only that—minutes. And all minutes end.

  What broke the spell that had locked Jill and Michael together in a synchronicity of being for that brief time, neither knew. It just happened.

  "Ow, Michael," Jill heard herself plead out loud as her mind registered her suffering and suggested she try and do something to appease it. "Please, no more. I'm sorry," she begged.

  "Okay," Michael conceded as if he now, too, knew the moment had passed. "Keep still. Just a few more." And tightening his hold about her waist, he gathered her to him and finished with a flurry of spanks on alternating cheeks.

  No longer entranced, Jill wailed and kicked and wriggled against the onslaught, but it was quickly over and Michael was rubbing her fiery bottom as she slowly regained control of herself. Then, as though he now just wanted to get away as quickly as possible, he dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and left with no more than a murmured, "You okay?" and "See you at lunch, then," turning the light off and closing the door behind him as he went.

  Stepping out of the panties that still lay scrunched at her ankles, Jill threw herself back under the covers, clutching her pillow to her chest as though it were a lifebelt that could save her from the sea of confusion she now found herself floundering. Had she deliberately slept in, she asked herself, but found no convincing answer either way. Did she feel happy and fulfilled after being spanked, or did she feel shattered that Michael was now distant from her again? Was it possible to simultaneously have one foot in paradise and one in purgatory?

  And, philosophical questions aside, how would she cope being here with him now, if not exactly in the same house, as near as made no difference? As her mind grappled to make sense of the recent events and how she was going to deal with them, her hand rubbed her still throbbing bottom and occasionally slipped to the front to momentarily assuage the ache in her wet and swollen love nest.

  Waiting for Michael to return for lunch, Jill had no idea what she should say or how she should behave in these now changed circumstances, but when he finally arrived, it seemed Michael had made those decisions for the both of them. A slightly raised eyebrow when he first entered, satisfied by an answering blush and infinitesimal nod of her head reassuring him that she was quite all right was his only reference to his earlier visit to her room. He was polite and friendly, but the barrier was as solidly between them as before.

  And so their relationship slipped back into being cordial, even friendly at times, but reserved. Sometimes Jill thought she caught him looking at her with that troubled enigmatic expression she couldn't read, and she knew that there were times when he'd caught her eyes on him, but he made no comment.

  It was 5.30am on her third Saturday that she got the phone call from Alistair to say Vicky was in labour. After telling him she'd drive to Melbourne immediately, and asking him to pass her love on to Vicky in the meantime, Jill dressed, packed a small bag and then rushed downstairs to make Michael's breakfast.

  Her mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of her friend and the coming child, she didn't notice Michael come in. When she turned and saw him, he was so close that instinctively she reached out and laid her hand on his arm. As though it had been a scalding iron, he roughly grabbed it and held it away. His actions bringing her back to reality with a shock, she felt her cheeks redden with mortification as she tried to take back her hand, but he clutched it in his, almost hurting her.

  For an instant, she felt the magnetism between them, felt herself being pulled toward the maelstrom, but now was not the time—there was Vicky and the baby….

  "Roo," he began, but snatching her hand away, she cut him short.

  "Vick's in labour," she said as matter-of-factly as possible. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to go down and be with her while the baby's born."

  "You're not a slave," Michael responded grimly. "You don't have to ask my permission to leave. I'm sure you'll go when you're ready anyway, and if you decide you've had enough of being stranded out in the sticks, I can manage if you decide you don't want to come back."

  "Of course I want to come back!" she exclaimed horrified. "I love being here! I'll be back as soon as the baby's born."

  As her words hung between them, she knew too late she'd let her guard slip. She'd revealed how she truly felt, that she loved the farm and living there, and that if it was up to her she'd never want to leave. She felt stripped naked, her vulnerability exposed to him.

  "You're right," she exclaimed angrily, although it was herself she was furious with. "I'm not your slave, and I know you can manage. But I'll be back anyway. I promised Mum and Jack. Shall I give your best wishes to your sister?" And without waiting for an answer, she pushed past him, collected the bag waiting by the backdoor and ran to her car.

  Chapter Ten

  Jill arrived at the Melbourne maternity hospital with little time to spare. Vicky's labour was already well advanced and less than an hour later a tiny perfect baby boy was born.

  "Oh my God," Jill breathed, clutching Vicky's right hand while Ali held his wife's other one, and the midwife showed the child to them for the first time. "He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Vick."

  It was a moving experience for all three. The bond between Ali and Vicky was deeper and more tangible than ever and now their son was also included in that deep well of love. Jill captured the precious moments with her camera, staying with the new mother until she was settled back into her own bed, her baby sleeping in a cot beside her. Then sensing Vicky and Ali wanted some time together before an exhausted Vicky finally got some much-needed sleep, Jill gave them both a hug and kiss and promised to come back later and say goodbye before she returned to the farm.

  Her next stop was her flat, stopping at a deli on the way to get some milk and a sandwich. After collecting the mail from under the door where her neighbour had left it for her and checking everything was as she'd left it, she opened the windows to let in some fresh air, put on Mozart and did a quick whip-round with a duster and the vacuum cleaner. That done, she made herself a cup of tea to have with her sandwich whilst she attended to the mail.

  Then after ringing Tim to tell him the good news about the baby and being reas
sured that he and Gaye were managing fine, and she should stay at the farm as long as she needed without worrying about them, she closed up the flat again, and drove back to the hospital, stopping on the way to pick up a huge bunch of flowers and a gift for the baby.

  When she arrived on the ward, Jack and Elizabeth were with Vicky who, obviously blissfully happy and contented, was nursing her baby. Jill was delighted to find Elizabeth looking the picture of health, although a stabbing pain in her heart reminded her that this also meant that her own time at River Gums was fast coming to an end. Nearly two hours later, having taken photographs of the baby from every angle and with every combination of parents and grandparents, and even getting the others to take pictures of her with her godson-to-be, Jill finally kissed everyone goodbye and set off back to the farm.

  It was dark by the time she pulled into the garage opposite the farmhouse to discover the ute was missing. Inside, on the kitchen table, was a curt note: "Jill, if you get back, don't worry about breakfast in the morning."

  Disappointment washed over her. She realized just how much she'd been looking forward to seeing Michael, telling him all about his nephew and showing him the photographs. Besides, although they'd only spent one evening together since her arrival, it had been comforting to know he wasn't far away. Picturing him in his room, occasionally hearing music or his television, just knowing he was there had made her feel she wasn't alone, but tonight he wasn't there and apparently wasn't planning to return early. As she climbed into bed and pulled the quilt over herself, she felt strangely desolate.

  Already in the habit of waking each day at 5:00am, Jill woke early the next morning even though there was no need. Cold and dark as the outside world was, she was quite happy to snuggle back down under her warm doona, and relive the previous day's happy event. She hoped she would see Michael soon. She so wanted to share the birth of his nephew with him and show him the photographs.

  The second time she woke it was because of a banging on her door.

  "Hey, sleepyhead," she heard a familiar voice call. "Can I come in? Are you awake?"

  "Yes, come in," she called, pulling the covers protectively over her, remembering the only other time he'd come to her bedroom in the three weeks she'd been at River Gums. She wasn't quite sure whether she felt relieved or disappointed when the door opened and Michael entered carrying two mugs of coffee.

  "I've brought you some coffee."

  "Oh."

  "Well, you've made me breakfast every morning since you've been here. Except one," he added with a grin. Jill blushed. "I just thought I'd repay the favour. Besides, I thought we might toast the newest member of the family. You don't mind, do you?"

  "No," Jill assured him. "I can show you the photos," she added, reaching for her camera, which was on the table next to her bed.

  "So," he raised his cup "to the next generation of O'Connells, even if he is a Fenton."

  "Here, look." Jill turned the camera around so he could see the photos she'd taken the day before. As she ran through them and the events of the day before, she could see Michael's interest was genuine. As gruff and aloof as he could be, she was a little surprised to see his tender reaction to the tiny newcomer to the family. A warm shiver rippled through her as she realized that this man would make an excellent father.

  "We'll have to get Dave over to have a look," he smiled at Jill when he'd seen all the photos. "Actually that's where I was last night. We thought we'd better toast the safe arrival, rather too many times I think. That's why I thought I'd better stick to coffee this time, rather than anything stronger. And I thought I'd salute your return to the wilderness as well."

  "What!" Jill's eyes flashed as she registered the meaning of his last comment. "You didn't think I'd last the distance, did you? You thought I was using Vicky's baby as an excuse to go running home."

  "Well, what's wrong with that? I know you're used to city life, popping out for chicken and champagne whenever you feel like it. It's not that easy here is it?"

  "So," she eyed him archly, "the truth's out. You didn't think I'd be able to cope here for even a few weeks."

  "You left early last time, I believe," he observed drily.

  "That was different!" Jill exclaimed hotly, shocked he could taunt her with that when the only reason she'd left was because he'd broken her heart by announcing his engagement to Rachel.

  "Maybe," he continued. "But there are plenty of city slickers who come out here with romantic notions. I've seen it plenty of times. What they discover though is that for the main part it's just plain hard yakka."

  "And who told you I was afraid of hard work?" Jill demanded, getting angrier by the minute. "Or that I wasn't used to it?"

  "Okay, okay," he held up his hand placatingly. "Maybe I was wrong, don't shoot me."

  "I don't get it, Michael," Jill persisted, only semi-mollified. "What is it with you and this city-country thing anyway? We're all just people."

  "Maybe," he conceded, but Jill had the feeling there was something else on his mind, something he wasn't saying. "Like I said, I've seen it happen, that's all. People come here, then find they just can't hack it."

  "What about you? Could you ever leave River Gums?"

  Jill's sudden question seemed to catch Michael off-guard, and for a moment he just looked at her in that slow observing way he'd done before. Without knowing why but feeling she'd touched something important, Jill felt her breath slow to a halt as she waited for his answer.

  At last, he gave his characteristic shrug and looked away. "Maybe once I believed there was nothing more important to me than the farm."

  "Once?" Jill couldn't conceal her genuine surprise. "Don't you still feel like that?"

  "Now?" he laughed humourlessly. "I've learnt there are other things in life that are important besides work and land, but it's too late for me to leave now. I'm a farmer. That's what I am. I'm not ashamed of the fact, but let's face it, there's not much call for farmers anywhere but on farms."

  "I couldn't imagine you being happy cooped up with no open spaces, no night sky filled with stars, nowhere to ride Bushranger."

  "Maybe not," Michael conceded. "I guess wherever I went, River Gums is where I'd always want to come back to. Anyway," he brusquely changed the focus of the conversation, "what about you? That little flat the place you always want to get back to?"

  "It's hardly home to me like River Gums is to you," Jill laughed. "And maybe there are other places I'd rather live." She was choosing her words very carefully as the conversation switched to dangerous ground. "But," she sighed and shrugged, "no point wishing for what you can't have, is there? Still, I guess you can get away for holidays, can't you?" she deliberately switched the focus back to Michael.

  "I can," he agreed. "But it's not much fun going by myself. I had thought once about seeing Rome. Thought maybe I'd go on my honeymoon, if I ever found myself a wife."

  "Are you still looking?" Jill's throat was dry despite the coffee she'd been sipping.

  "Nah. Not really." He looked away momentarily but not before Jill saw something that looked like a flash of pain cross his face. When he turned back, his expression was once again blank and under control. "You're not the only one who's indulged in idle dreams, but you're right. No point wishing for the impossible. I tried a few times to get interested in other women, but I've given it away now. No point."

  I tried a few times to get interested in other women.

  The words resounded like gunshots in Jill's ears as she felt hot tears sting her eyes. So that one night at her flat he'd just been using her to try and forget Rachel! And it hadn't worked. No wonder she hadn't heard from him again.

  He'd lied to her! He'd lied about not caring that Rachel had broken off the engagement and lied about feeling nothing but relief. He'd lied in the note he'd left on Jill's table when he'd said their night together had been wonderful. No wonder he'd left. He hadn't been able to get out of there fast enough. Her face burned with shame as she wondered when he'd realized w
hat a mistake he'd made in coming to see her—over dinner maybe, or maybe back at the flat. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to spend the night with her but couldn't refuse her blatant invitation. She felt suddenly ill as the thought leapt into her mind that perhaps he'd only been able to go through with making love to her by imagining she was Rachel. Sick and humiliated, she could no longer bear to be in the same room as him.

  No wonder he'd been so cool about the idea of her coming here, he probably thought she was going to throw herself at his feet again. She understood now, too, why he'd been so careful to keep his distance since her arrival—all except for that one spanking, and he'd left her alone as soon as he'd finished that.

  "It's not been easy, Roo…" he said, the pain in his eyes was now all too visible, as he suddenly took her hands in his.

  "I bet it hasn't," she flung at him. Red-hot anger scorched through her as the painful truth suddenly revealed itself to her. Her dreams vaporised into a puff of smoke, and the tenuous hold she had on her emotions snapped as it dawned on her that having just unwittingly confessed to caring about no one else but Rachel, he was contemplating using Jill again to assuage those painful memories. Throwing back the covers, she leapt from the bed, pushing him away with all the force she could muster.

  "Please leave," she managed to splutter. "I want to get dressed."

  "Roo! What's the matter?" Michael stared at her, bewildered by her outburst.