There was a long silence, and the tension was tangible, but eventually he met her gaze. “Evening, princess,” he drawled with a wink. “Looks like you’re gonna be stuck with me for a bit. Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to stay out of your hair.” It would be best if you would return the favor. The last line was unspoken, but it was there, clear as the nose on his face.
Too bad for Finn Tucker, Francesca prided herself on being a bit of a rebel, and never liked to do what was expected of her. Once he found a way around Joe, and out of here, he could avoid her all he liked, but until then, it was game on.
“Finley, my boy,” her dad boomed out loudly in his usual way. “You go on and make yourself comfortable. Our house is your house. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you, Joe, Priscilla.” Finley nodded, looking resigned. “I appreciate your help and hospitality, and I will surely make myself at home, and not bother you if I need anything. I think I know my way around well enough to manage, but all I really need right now is a nap. I feel like I haven’t had a good night's sleep in a month.”
Before anyone else was able, Francesca sprung into action, grabbing his suitcase out of her father's hand, and making a beeline for the guest suite where he would be staying. “Come on then, Finley,” she cooed, saccharine dripping from every word. “Let’s get you all settled in for the night.”
Finn’s look as he followed her was a cross between weary resignation and deer caught in the headlights. She smirked. Good. She wanted to see him sweat a little.
As soon as he entered behind her, she shut the door.
“Francesca,” he warned.
“Don’t you Francesca me like that, Finley Tucker. You have lost that right. I’m the one who is the fuck-up in this duo, usually, so for you to just go off the deep end like that? And not even have the decency to explain why?” Her voice was escalating quickly from a controlled whisper to an all-out yell, so she took a moment to pause and regroup before continuing. “So it turns me on to be spanked. So what? It turns you on to do it, and don't pretend for a second that it doesn’t. I know better. I was the one over your lap, remember?”
She watched his inner struggle as the laughter entered his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “Touché,” he replied with a smirk. “I never said I didn’t like it Franny. I like it too much- that’s the problem. I have never spanked someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with, and I learned that for me, it’s not something that is workable. I’m sorry. I should have known that.”
She sighed. He wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t already said. “Right. You mentioned that. So the problem is me, and the fact that I’m a stuck-up fuck-up, who apparently will always be too stuck up and too fucked up for the likes of you no matter how much you spank me. Is that what you are saying? That I’m basically a hopeless case anyway, so there is no point in continuing?”
His eyes immediately grew dark, and his jaw hardened. Using his crutches, he quickly advanced on her until she was backed up against the locked door. “Franny, no. That is not what I was saying. Do not put words in my mouth, little girl.”
Francesca swallowed hard, flattening herself against the door, cursing the fact that just his proximity combined with his unwavering dominance was enough to make her panties dampen with arousal. “Then what are you saying, Finley? Because you sure as hell aren’t being clear, and that’s what I am getting from it.”
He backed up a bit, and faltered slightly. “I’m saying that it doesn’t matter how much we both enjoy it; it could never go anywhere between us. And I don’t want to lead you on, or make things harder for myself when you go, but Francesca, it’s not because of what you do, it’s because of who you are, and who I am.”
She held back a frustrated scream. “What does that even mean, Finley? It doesn’t make any sense. We are two grown ass adults, and if we are both enjoying something, and we are both clear on the limitations, why does it matter? Why can’t things continue the way they are, or even go farther? Why?”
“They just can’t.” Finley’s breathing was shallow, and his jaw was set in a hard line.
“That’s not an answer, Finn.”
“It’s the only one you’re going to get, Franny. You need to learn when to leave well enough alone.”
“I can’t!” She stomped her foot in frustration. “This is my life too, Finley. You don’t get to make all the decisions and then just refuse to explain them!”
“Francesca,” his voice was a low growl that echoed off the walls. “Stop.”
There was no way she was giving in now. She stepped away from the door, until she was inches away from his face, nearly stepping on his good foot. “Make me,” she taunted.
Chapter Nine
Finn took a slow, deep breath, and tried to temper himself from reacting, but it was useless. That phrase was his kryptonite. It meant a naughty little girl was issuing him a challenge, and he never backed down from a challenge.
He scooped Francesca up under his right arm (his good side) and carried her like a football across the room, shifting all his weight to his left side, and leaning heavily on one crutch. He was moving slowly, and it took him much longer than it should have to make it to the bed on the other side of the room. If Francesca had fought, or squirmed or wiggled at all, she could have probably gotten loose, and knocked him down in the process. Thankfully, she didn’t do any of those things.
He let go of her right before he dropped onto the bed in a sitting position, half expecting her to make a run for it. He wouldn’t have been able to chase after her, and he suspected she knew that just getting her over there had taken every ounce of stamina he could manage at the moment.
Francesca didn’t run, or yell, or any of the things she normally would have done. Instead, she stood there, wordlessly, staring at him with big puppy dog eyes that were almost pleading. It was almost enough to pause him in his mission, and remind him what a bad idea it was, and what a mistake it would be. Almost.
Carefully laying his crutch on the floor within arm’s reach, he hooked an arm around her waist, and carefully pulled her across his lap, wincing a bit from the pressure on his bad leg. This spanking shit was not going to come easy for a while, he thought with a grimace. Not that it mattered. This would be the last time with Franny- he told himself stubbornly. Just one last time to clear the air, since they were apparently going to be living under the same roof for a while. All this tension would never do.
Francesca was perfectly still across his knees, teetering precariously in a way designed not to add undue pressure, he was sure. The only sound in the room was her heavy ragged breathing. She was wearing thin linen slacks, and he hadn’t thought to take them down before throwing her over his knee, so he would have to spank over them. It wasn’t his preference, but they would offer little protection.
Bracing his left hand on the small of her back to keep her steady, he raised his right arm, and brought it down with as much force as he could muster. Francesca moaned deeply, but didn’t move.
“You’re kind of a pain in the ass,” he told her. “You know that?”
“Yes, Sir. So you keep telling me,” she retorted smartly. “Although, at this particular moment, I would have to say that you’re the pain in my ass.”
His humor returning, he chuckled. God but he loved her sass sometimes. Of course, he also loved being able to bust her ass for it. In the coming days, he suspected he would miss that most. He would stick to his guns, but if he knew Franny she would give it to him with both barrels. Case in point- how exactly had she ended up over his knee again this very moment?
“That’s right, baby- and the pain has just begun.” Fully enjoying the banter between them, he brought his hand down again with a satisfying thud across the middle of both cheeks. Lucky for him, he had large hands and she had a small but shapely ass.
C’mon Finley, he silently chided himself. Don’t get distracted by a pert little bottom. This can’t go on, and you need to make that clear f
or once and for all. Resolved, he resumed his mission with gusto, raining down swats on every inch of her slacks covered bottom until his hand was aching from the impact, and then kept going.
“You, young lady,” he lectured between swats, “need to learn to take no for an answer. You need to learn to leave well enough alone. I said this cannot continue and I meant it. This is the last time, Franny, the last time.” He closed his eyes and sent out a silent prayer that that would be true, and that he would be granted strength in the face of great temptation.
Franny was starting to wiggle and whimper, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the pain of the spanking or the weight of his words. He suspected the latter, and his suspicions were confirmed, when she finally cried out.
“But Finley, it’s not fair. I deserve a better explanation.”
He sighed and paused, “Maybe so, Franny, but it’s the only one I’ve got so you’re going to have to accept it.”
Her answer was one of denial, yelled with such force that she tumbled off his lap and landed on her knees on the floor looking up at him. “No! I won’t! As you keep reminding me, I am a grown ass woman, and as such, I am entitled to the truth in matters that concern me.”
His only answer was a low growl. “Get back up here and receive what you have coming to you. Unless you’ve had enough, and you’re ready to be done for good.”
With mischief in her eyes, she placed herself back across his lap, and he frowned. He had not been expecting no argument on her part.
He moved his arm lower to get access to her sit spots, which he figured, was probably the only area he hadn’t fully roasted already at this point. He was shocked when she didn’t let out so much as a squeal or a whimper. She lay completely still and took it. He was spanking with every ounce of strength that he had, harder than he ever had before. She didn’t move a muscle. This went on for a good three minutes, until he felt like his hand might fall off.
“Are you about done?” he asked her, furrowing his brow.
“Never. I’m not moving until you give me your real answer!”
“That’s not going to happen, little girl, but if that’s the way you want it,” he continued, accepting her words as a challenge, and one he would not lose. Sighing, he moved his munitions, even lower still, attacking her thighs with gusto. Experience told him that was all he would need to do to put a quick end to this silliness.
*****
The first swat fell on her thighs, and she gritted her teeth, refusing to satisfy him with the reaction he wanted. She had known very well when she issued the challenge that spanking her thighs would be his next move. Tears were seeping from the corners of her eyes, and her ass was on fire, and every time his hand fell across the tender tops of her thighs, it took everything in her not to scream out and cry uncle, but she would not be giving in. Either her ass would fall off or his hand would, but she was not going to be the first to give in.
As if he could read her mind, Finley paused for only a second. “Are you ready to give in little girl, because I could go all day. I’m not the one who won’t be sitting tomorrow.”
“Sitting is over-rated,” she retorted through gritted teeth.
Finley had the gall to laugh, and not a little chuckle either. “Okay then, have it your way,” he warned, before resuming.
Her ass was throbbing, her thighs were on fire, her sit spots were numb. Her face, she knew was red and streaked with tears, but she stayed still and quiet- only speaking out when he asked her a question, and only to egg him on further. It was a full on battle of wills, between two of the most willful people on the planet. Who would give in first?
Every few minutes, Finley would pause, and ask her if she was ready to “end this foolishness.” She would quickly respond with a smart ass retort, such as, “only if you are” or “I’m just fine, thank you” and he would sigh, and move his hand lower. He was nearly halfway to her knees by now, and she guessed she would have no choice but to wear long pants for at least a few days. The pattern continued, and it had nearly become a game for the both of them, until Finley reached the crease of her knees.
“There’s nowhere left to spank,” he informed her. “Are you ready to be done now?”
“That depends,” she bit out, through her copious tears. “Are you ready to talk?”
“Not hardly.”
“Well,” she boasted. “It seems we are at an impasse.”
“Who,” he intoned, “said anything about an impasse?”
“I thought you said you were out of places to spank, and I didn’t give in,” she taunted, “so, I am pretty sure that means I win.”
“Like hell it does,” he growled. “It just means I start over. And,” he continued, “because I deserve to enjoy the show, it means, these come down.”
His large rough hands pulled at the waistband of her slacks, and she whimpered. Finn wasn’t playing fair, she mentally pouted. But she didn’t say a thing, only lifted her hips to allow him to slide her pants down her hips and legs, resting them right above her knees. Then to her horror, he hooked his finger in the waist of her panties and began to lower them as well. He had never before spanked her entirely on the bare. She reared up, and howled.
“Just what do you think you are doing? Not only is that completely giving you an unfair advantage, it’s highly improper.”
“Unfair advantage my ass. I need to see your bottom so I can see the damage if you really do want to keep going. I’m not planning on causing undue harm. Don’t worry, I’m going to rest them right below your sit spots, and I won’t be able to see anything else.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Fine.” She was pissed as hell to have her layers of protection gone, thin as they were, she knew that the full experience of flesh on flesh would hurt much worse, if that was even possible. She allowed Finn to lower her panties, and he kept true to his word, bringing them to rest below her cheeks.
“Your bottom is very pink, and your legs too,” he murmured, softly running his hands down the length of them, as she shuddered under his touch.
“Just pink?” she quipped. “Good. Game on, then.”
“Very well,” he tsked, raising his arm.
Francesca squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself, thankful that he was only using his hand. The first impact re-ignited the flames in her ass, the sting like nothing she had ever felt before.
“OOoowww!” she yelled, all her resolve to stay silent and still, going out the window by the second swat. Her yelling did not slow him down. If anything it encouraged him, and he began to spank with a vengeance, peppering every inch of her bottom with a series of hard, methodically placed swats, often striking the same place several times in a row. Every time he did this she bit her tongue until she could almost taste blood to keep herself from giving in. The tension rolled through the room heavy and unspoken. Neither of them were willing to give in before the other, even though it was becoming obvious that both of them wanted to.
Francesca was sobbing openly and loudly now, beyond the point of caring that Finley could hear her, and Finn was pausing every minute or so, shaking his hand out as if to dull the throbbing. Judging by the state of her ass, she could only imagine how his hand must feel. The thought gave her more than a little bit of satisfaction.
The fifth time she felt him stop to shake it, she couldn’t help but tease. “Awww, Finley, is your hand getting sore? Poor widdle baby,” she sing-songed.
It wasn’t the best decision on her part. “Aw, liddle Fwanny,” he mimicked, “is your ass getting too sore? Guess I’ll just have to move to your thighs.” To her chagrin, he was unable to hide the delight in his voice.
“Damn it, I walked right into that one,” she whispered to herself. She felt the whoosh of air above her thighs and her whole body clenched as she waited.
*****
Finn was equal parts annoyed and impressed that Franny had managed to hold out this long. He was giving one hell of a spanking, on every inch of her now roasted ass and thighs, and every t
ime he tried to give her an out, she just egged him on further.
He was a man on a mission, completely focused on his goal of making her be the one to succumb. He felt like an ass, but she was the one who had started it, and he was determined that she would be the one to put an end to it.
He paused for a minute, and glanced at his watch wondering how long this had been going on for. His hands were both totally numb, his legs were aching all over, and he had a splitting headache coming on.
He took a minute and closed his eyes, reveling in the silence. Francesca's body was shaking lightly with her silent cries, and a clock ticked from somewhere in the room. He was so tired. He should give in, and just tell her the truth- why was he trying to hide it anyway? It was just one of those things that couldn’t be helped. It is what it is, he told himself. It is what it is. Francesca wouldn’t like it- but she wouldn’t be able to deny it.
Speaking of Francesca, she was still egging him on, wiggling her ass enticingly, waiting for him to continue. He looked down. Even with only the use of his hand, the flesh was beginning to mottle with a mixture of welts and handprints in a few places. All because two stubborn people were locked in a battle of wills. It wasn’t fair to continue. She was going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow, and for what? For once she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“You are one stubborn little girl,” he muttered, giving one last good whack across the middle of her cheeks, just for the heck of it, and letting his hand linger longer than necessary. Damn. He was going to miss this, and eventually her, but he knew it was for the best.
“I’m done,” he announced.
Francesca, twisted her head back to look at him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, as if she half expected it to be a trick.
Finley put his hands in the air above his head, in a classic gesture of surrender.
She still didn’t move. “You’re really done? I win?”
“Sure, if you want to look at it that way.” As far as he was concerned, they were both the losers in this scenario. It didn’t have a happy ending.
Catching Her Cowboy Daddy Page 8