by Alta Hensley
Swat
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Swat
“I know you are scared. I know your memories probably make you want to kill someone, but at the same time hide from all the darkness. I get that. We all get that. But, Zoya, right now isn’t about you.”
Swat
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“Right now is about all those poor, helpless women who need us to all focus on saving them. I’m not going to allow you to let your demons get in the way of the good we are all supposed to do. We all have demons, Zoya. Every single one of us. You are no different.”
A sob escaped from her lips. “I know,” she cried out. “I shouldn’t have run. They do need me.” She began to cry softly. “I just don’t think I’m strong enough. You shouldn’t have bid on me. I’m sure other women would be better at helping you. I told you I was a coward!”
“No, Zoya!”
Swat
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“That is the pity party I am talking about. Stop! You’re not a damn coward but it is time you find your strength for the good of all those others. Take all that anger that you have every right to feel and let it fuel the fighter… the warrior I know is inside you!”
She swallowed back her sob. “You’re right.” Glancing over her shoulder, her big blue eyes made contact with his. “I’m sorry. I do need to fight. For them… and for me.”
He lightened up on the spanking, knowing he had finally made his point and she understood not only the lesson but the need for it. Each spank upon her bottom was delivered with far less bite, but steady, to finish it completely.
“No more running unless I’m jogging right beside you.” He spanked a few times more. “Agreed?”
“Agreed! Yes! Anything! Just stop, please!”
Stryder gave her two hard swats before grabbing her panties and pulling them up over her punished behind. He then reached for her jeans and pulled them up as she stood up and assisted him. Her face was just about as red as her ass. He knew she was mortified, and other than the whipping on stage that had been all for show, Stryder was pretty certain she had never received a spanking as an adult before. Definitely not on a ranch out in the open for all to see.
He gently pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “I keep my promises.”
She nuzzled her face into his chest and mumbled, “I didn’t realize you would be doing so by really spanking me. That was not my idea of fun at all. I thought I might like to be…”
Stryder chuckled. “Spanked? Is that what you were going to say? Well, I can assure you that there are times you could very much enjoy it.”
“Ha, I doubt it.” Her cute muffled voice against his chest made his cock twitch. “I don’t want to experience something like that ever again!” He could hear the little pout in her voice as she gripped his shirt in her fists and burrowed her face even deeper into the ley of his neck.
Fuck.
He wanted her.
He wanted to fuck her… bad.
Stryder tried to push the delicious and tantalizing thought out of his mind. He tried not to picture himself with his face buried between her legs, lapping up the juices he knew the spanking had caused. While he had been spanking her, he could smell her musky arousal. He could see the lips of her pussy glisten. Although his resolve was dissolving fast as her tiny frame clung to his for the aftercare and support she needed after a good blistering, he remained focused.
Stryder was crossing a line into dangerous territory. She wasn’t just some girl. She was important to the success of this mission.
She was important to him.
Taking a deep breath, and willing his cock to not demand to be set free, he kissed her head and rubbed her back in small circles. “We need to get back inside and get to work.”
She pulled her head back to stare at him in disbelief. “No way! I can’t go in and face your family after you just sp… spa… I can’t even say the word without blushing!”
“They aren’t going to know I spanked you unless you tell them.” Stryder knew that he was lying. They would all know. It was obvious on her face. “And even if they do, it’s not like they haven’t spanked a girl before themselves. The last thing they would do is judge you.”
“They have? How do you know this?” Her eyes were so wide, but her lips… they were so close.
“We are old-fashioned ranchers, with old-fashioned beliefs, darlin’.” He winked, trying to lighten the mood, and trying his damnedest not to kiss her right then and there. If he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself and stop.
Zoya took a step back and crossed her arms in a pout. “Well, I don’t want any more old-fashioned beliefs upon my backside.” Even though she pushed out her bottom lip, her eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Well then, don’t give me a reason to spank you.” He playfully popped her on the bottom and she squealed.
“Ow! I’m tender!”
“Good,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe I can get some decent artwork out of you now.” He reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s get inside and back to work. There are a lot of people counting on us.”
As they walked back to the house hand in hand, Zoya looked at him with a bemused expression on her face. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, especially after what you just did to me.”
Stryder looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Thank you? For spanking you?” he asked teasingly. Stryder smiled when she rolled her eyes and smirked.
“No. But thank you for telling me what I needed to hear. Thank you for giving me tough love, and…” she squeezed his hand and stared ahead as they continued to walk. “Thank you for keeping your promise.”
Chapter 12
Despite his telling her that no one would know what had happened, Zoya felt as if there were a sign hanging over her, one with an arrow pointing to her ass, the word “spanked” flashing over and over again in huge neon letters. The closer they got to the house, the slower she tried to walk, dragging her feet as her free hand moved to rub against the back of her jeans.
Before she got a good rub in, he’d dropped her hand, brushed hers away from her rear, and splayed his fingers against her lower back.
“Cowgirl up,” he said.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means toughen up. To not let things scare you or cause you to hide in some little ball. To realize that yes, things aren’t always fun or easy.” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow lifting. “Of course, in this case, it means absolutely no rubbing.”
“But my butt hurts!”
“Yes, I’m sure it does, but since I put that pain in your ass for a reason, you’re just going to have to let it burn.”
She shook her head. “What kind of archaic rule is that?” As ridiculous as it was, his chuckle, the amusement reflected in his eyes as well, had her answering her own question. “Another old-fashioned belief?”
“Don’t fix what’s not broken,” Stryder said, increasing the pressure against her back, which had her automatically moving forward.
Mulling over his use of unfamiliar phrases, and wondering how he could sound so cavalier about what had happened, she felt torn. How could she feel so confused? He’d spanked her like a naughty child and yes, it had hurt. Yet, it had been sort of… well, hot. Before she realized it, they were walking up the steps to the porch. When she attempted to twist away, to prolong their entrance into the house, he shook his head.
“It also means to admit that yes, you fucked up, but now that you’ve taken the spanking, as quick and little as it was, you’ve paid the price and it’s over. No need to worry or discuss it further. The longer you take to face the music, the harder it will be.”
Quick? Little? Surely he didn’t mean that? Evidently her disbelief was written on her face because he paused with his hand on the doorknob.
“Zoya, I promise, not a soul is going to think less of you e
ven if they do manage to figure out you just got spanked.”
Despite his assurance, Zoya was sure they’d walk into the house to find his entire family standing there. Instead, when he opened the door and guided her inside, she discovered she was wrong. No one was visible, and the only sounds she heard were coming from the direction of the kitchen, where Jennie was probably beginning preparations for lunch. When she felt Stryder taking her hand again, giving her fingers a squeeze, she returned the gentle pressure.
She might not completely understand the definition of the phrase, but once they entered the operations center, she paused again. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her apology causing the men to look from the monitors to her. Three nods and three smiles were definitely those of forgiveness and not judgment. Stryder pulled out her chair and she slid into it, wincing a bit as her butt hit the wooden seat. Ignoring the quick grin that Stryder shot her way, she pulled the pad toward her. Looking down at the almost completed portrait, she stroked a finger over the woman’s cheek.
“I’m here,” she whispered softly. “I promise I’ll try not to fail you, Natalia.”
“She knows.” Feeling pressure on her hair, it took her a moment to realize that Stryder had dropped a kiss against the top of her head. God, he was a man unlike any she’d ever known. He could light a fire in her behind that made sitting uncomfortable and yet ease her fears with a few words and a gentle squeeze of her hand, and then make her heart skip a beat by kissing her in a way that made her feel he was proud of her. Picking up the pencil she’d abandoned, she worked to fulfill that promise.
The next time the pencil stopped moving was because Stryder placed a hand over hers. Looking up, she saw him smiling. “Time for a break,” he said.
“But I’m not done…”
“Jennie will have my hide if I keep you chained to the table,” he said, pulling the pencil from her fingers.
“No!” she shouted, “you don’t understand. I can’t stop… not now.”
“Zoya, you need to eat.”
“I can’t,” she said, reaching for another pencil. “Their faces are calling to me and I have to get them down while they do.” When he reached for that pencil as well, she jerked her hand beneath the table.
He looked down at her, determination in his eyes stating that he wasn’t accustomed to being blatantly challenged. “Zoya, I’m not going to allow you to hide in here. I told you that no one cares about—”
“Please, Stryder,” she interrupted. “This isn’t about the spanking. I don’t care about that. Just don’t make me stop. I-I can’t fail them again.”
He finally gave her a curt nod. “Fine, but I’m going to bring you something to eat and you will eat it. Understood?”
At his nod, she’d brought her hand from her lap, the tip of the pencil already back on the pad. “Yes, sir,” she said, her strokes filling in the shape of the man’s nose. By the time a tray was placed on the table, she’d finished the portrait and had begun the next.
“Eat,” Stryder said, pulling out an adjacent chair.
Sighing, she reached for the sandwich, taking a bite while her free hand began to draw. The first bite was swallowed before she realized that she was famished. Allowing the pencil to still, she laid it across the notebook. “Thank you,” she said, taking another bite. “This is delicious.”
Stryder chuckled. “Jennie will be thrilled. It’s just veggies between bread.”
She smiled and took another bite before taking a sip from the glass of iced tea he’d also brought. “That may be but Jennie has a way with food. It’s healthy and still really good. I can’t wait to see her garden.”
They made small talk until she’d finished the sandwich as well as the cup of soup. When she was done, he placed the dishes back onto the tray. “How many more portraits do you have to finish?”
“A few,” she said, picking up her pencil again.
“All right, but you don’t have to finish them all today.” When she started to protest, he shook his head. “No. It was difficult enough to convince Pops and Jennie that you were the one who wanted to continue to work. I’ve been told that if you don’t appear for supper, it’ll be my ass. We want to work quickly, but I’m not a slave driver.”
About to nod, Zoya felt her stomach flip at the word “slave.” She knew it was ridiculous and yet she couldn’t help the feeling of shame that instantly flooded through her. “Do… Jennie and Adira know that-that you… bought me? That I’m your… your sla…”
Stryder dropped the tray and squatted down beside her, cutting her off before she could complete the word. “They know that you are a woman who is important to me. They know that it will be with your help that we are able to get the man who hurt not only you and the other women that night, but one who hurt…”
“Who?” she asked when he stopped mid-sentence.
Instead of answering, he reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t matter. Like I told you before, Poplov is a very evil man. Know that every face you draw will bring us closer to shutting him down.”
She knew there had to be something he wasn’t telling her, but didn’t feel it was her place to push. He waited until she nodded before he stood, brushing his lips against her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat and her fingers shook a bit as they tightened around the pencil. Taking a deep breath, she forced her mind back to the task at hand.
“That’s all for today.”
“Stop doing that!” she said when the pencil was once again plucked from her fingers, yet it was said without the urgency from earlier.
“You promised,” Stryder said, pulling back her chair. How he managed with her still sitting in it was just another testament to his strength. Sighing, she stood and then groaned.
“You all right?” he asked instantly.
“Yes, just a little stiff.”
“I imagine so,” Stryder said, stepping behind her. His large, strong fingers began massaging her neck and shoulders, drawing another moan from her.
“I’ll give you about an hour to stop that,” she said, dropping her head forward to allow him better access.
His deep chuckle had her smiling beneath the curtain of her hair but his swat against her butt had her yelping. “Hey! What was that for?”
“No reason,” Stryder said, giving her a grin before his hand moved to the small of her back.
“Well, that hardly seems right,” she muttered as he led her from the room. She’d grabbed the notebook as she’d risen and now clutched it to her chest as they walked down the tunnel.
“Got you moving,” he said, another chuckle having her shaking her head. “But, if you’re still feeling stiff after supper, I’ll show you the gym.”
“You have a gym?”
“Yup, a bit further down the tunnel. We have weight benches, a bag, elliptical machines, a bike and a treadmill.”
“Wow,” Zoya said, turning her head to look behind them. “What else is hidden back here?”
His silence had her eyes going to his. The flare of something in the chocolate of his eyes had her stomach flipping. It was a look she’d seen before and yet couldn’t instantly place. She was about to ask again when he answered.
“Some things are best left alone.”
“What sort of answer is that?” she asked, suddenly very curious. “I already know your family are like super heroes. What could be more secret than that? I promise not to rat you out.”
He chuckled at her reference to their deal about the BBQ, but his reply didn’t help her any. “I didn’t say it was secret,” he said cryptically and then he grinned. “Let’s just say that sometimes, ignorance is bliss.”
Not knowing what to think and seeing the doorway that led back into the house proper, Zoya decided to drop the subject… for now.
Once seated at the table, bowls and platters being passed, she looked to Jennie. “I hope Stryder told you how delicious lunch was. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself.”
“Don’t you fret, child,
” Jennie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He promised he’d make sure you ate, and I understand the pull of a muse.”
Smiling and knowing without a doubt that Jennie was sincere, Zoya took a large helping of salad. “When I’m done with the portraits, I really do want to help you in the garden.”
“I’d like that,” Jennie said, taking a large spoon of the tofu and bean dish she’d prepared and plopping it not on her plate, but on Stryder’s.
“Hey,” he said, looking up at her. “I already got some of that… whatever that is supposed to be.”
“Well, obviously you need some more,” Jennie said unapologetically. “From what I heard, you practically had a heart attack just running a tiny bit down the road. That’s what you get eating all that processed food.”
Maddox and Anson both chuckled and Zoya had to bite the inside of her cheek in order not to join them. “She’s got you there, bro,” Maddox said. “What would your fellow SEALS think if they knew that you couldn’t keep up with a mere girl?” His head shook as he poured tea into Adira’s glass. “That’s a jarhead for you.”
“I can still outrun a grunt any day,” Stryder said.
“Boys, boys,” Drake said, his grin belying his chastisement. He turned to Zoya. “I hope you don’t feel as if you can’t take a break.”
“Oh, I didn’t feel that way,” Zoya assured him. “Like I told Stryder, when I see the faces right before me, I just need to finish.”