Operation V-Day

by Starla Kaye

  He stepped toward her again, intent etched onto his face.

  Her insides quivered, but she straightened and fought the dark devil down. "Just so you know, I don't have any of your credit cards. I chopped them up long ago. And I didn't buy any of this with your money." All of it was the truth, but she just couldn't seem to manage to explain things without sounding snappish. His avoidance of her had made her pretty testy.

  Her comment had him stopping, furrowing his brow and looking confused. "How did you pay for them then?"

  Since he still looked like he wanted to spank her, she eased farther away from him. "With money I've earned. Surely you don't think I've been living all these months on the little money that you've been sending me. Why did you send it, anyway?"

  He remained silent for a few seconds, clearly not willing to reveal why he'd sent her money. She decided not to push him about that.

  "You got a job?"

  It both hurt and annoyed her that he hadn't believed her capable of finding work, or of taking care of herself. She'd worked before they were married. For his firm. Yes, they'd lived out the cliche: she'd been the secretary that married the boss. Okay, she'd been living in their second home on Maui, which was paid for. Her expenses hadn't been too high. But she hadn't used any of the money he'd sent her. It hadn't felt like the right thing to do.

  She stood on the opposite side of the treadmill from him and studied the display. "Not a regular 8-5 type job, but I make a good living." She was irritated enough with him now that she didn't feel like explaining exactly how she earned money.

  "What--" His cell phone chose that second to ring, thank the fates.

  While he took the call he apparently didn't want from the expression on his face and his angry tone of voice, she walked across the room to more closely examine the recumbent bike. She leaned forward to get a better look at the electronic display. She was really going to enjoy working out in this room. She'd discovered a latent enjoyment of exercise during her stay on the island.

  A sharp Swat! to her bottom had her straightening and spinning around to glare at Jett. "Hey!"

  He motioned her to silence, pointing to the phone still held to his ear, while he casually explained, "Sorry, dropped something."

  Her lips pursed murderously, Valerie stood there seething while he finished his phone call. How dare he spank her while in the middle of a phone conversation! Her face flamed, and the horrible man had the audacity to give her a crooked grin.

  The instant he hung up, before she could even sputter a protest, he spun her around. She lost her balance and was forced to catch herself by planting her hands on the bike seat. He immediately took that opportunity to send a rapid fire round of spanks to her bottom. Exercise shorts were not a good choice to wear when receiving a spanking! But she hadn't planned on getting a spanking. She never planned on getting one.

  The spanking ended almost as quickly as it had started. He walked away even while she stood up and snapped, "That was soooo wrong!"

  "But it felt soooo right," he countered, mimicking her.

  "Matter of opinion."

  "I don't have time to get into any further discussion, Valerie Anne. You've already messed up my schedule for the day." He hesitated in the doorway.

  "Well, don't expect an apology from me." She rubbed her bottom, knowing that didn't sit well with him and not caring.

  He sucked in a breath, looking well aware of how she was purposely defying one of their rules. "Later. We'll definitely be talking about this equipment purchase later, whether you paid for it or whether we paid for it. And about your attitude."

  Valerie ground her teeth and then, as he turned away again, she stuck her tongue out at his back. She'd give him attitude! Okay, maybe not to his face, but...

  "That'll cost you, sweetheart." He strode down the hallway toward the garage.

  "What?" she couldn't resist calling out. He couldn't have...

  "That sticking your tongue out thing. I saw the reflection in the half-bath's mirror."

  She was getting rid of that damn mirror!

  It had been a long day, a long frustrating day. Through the wall of windows in his corner office, Jett watched an airplane flying across the dark sky, seeming to weave between the stars. He wanted to go home. Yet he didn't. He would have to face Valerie, needed to have a reasonable discussion with her. And then he needed to turn her over his knee and warm her ass.

  "Chesterfield sure wasn't happy with you postponing his meeting this afternoon," Aaron stated from his seat opposite Jett's desk.

  "Neither was Waverly," Tom added from the other client chair. "What was the deal with you today? Moving appointments around is so unlike you."

  Jett slowly turned from looking out the window to his partners. "Something came up."

  "Valerie." Tom said her name like it was distasteful to him.

  "Are you working things out?" Aaron asked calmly, although he looked as wary as Tom.

  Partnerships were like marriages, touchy at times, hard to balance. Aaron and Tom had been his friends in law school, and for the most part they all worked well together. But they could be like jealous wives sometimes, he thought, and then wondered if Valerie had ever been jealous of his work and his partners. It seemed like she had said something about it at one time. He knew he tended to be tunnel-visioned, especially when it came to work. Had he really been so damn inattentive that he'd driven her away? Could he be any other way? He enjoyed his work, the demands of it. How could he satisfy that need within him and satisfy a needy wife too? Maybe he was meant to live a solitary life.

  Finally he said, "I'm not sure we can."

  Valerie's nerves were taut as she let herself into the office of Hart, Shelby Wilson. For the second time in two weeks she was about to face the lion in his den. Okay, not Abigail--the lioness--but Jett, the full-fledged lion. She was tired of playing the waiting game at home. She refused to stay awake one more night listening for her husband to come stealing into the house, and hiding away in his wing of the too big house. Things hadn't ended well between them earlier. She intended to end them better before the night was finished.

  She heard voices down the hall, his partners. Her enemies at the moment. She knew they were trying to keep Jett from being hurt by her again, but they were actually making the situation worse with their interference. She'd heard Aaron ask if she and Jett were trying to work things out. The question had reminded her how bad their relationship was at the moment. Jett's quiet comment about not being sure they could was like a punch to the heart. Defeatist talk.

  She closed the door loud enough that they should have heard it. Then she glanced down at the buttoned trench coat she wore. What was beneath was for Jett's eyes alone. Heat pooled low in her body even as those taut nerves began to tingle with anxiousness. Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe she should just...

  "Valerie?" Jett questioned, as he strode into the reception area with Aaron and Tom following.

  "I...uh...I..."

  Jett's look to his partners warned them to get the hell out of Dodge, and they did. Both men passed by her with raised eyebrows and clear interest at the trench coat. Jett stepped around her to lock the outer door.

  "I was going to talk to you at home," Jett said, his gaze darkening as he studied the coat.

  She drew confidence from the clear desire sparking in his eyes. No matter how this encounter started off--or at least how unpleasant it might turn for a few minutes--she was certain they would make their first step toward healing their relationship. The offices on this floor and probably on most of the floors were empty now. At least there had only been a few cars in the parking lot when the cab had dropped her off: Jett's, Aaron's, Tom's and the security guard's.

  "How about we talk in your office?" She pulled courage around her even as she began to untie the trench coat. By the time she reached his office she'd unbuttoned it as well. She could almost hear Jett's heart pounding in his chest. Anticipation was a powerful thing. As were fantasies. This--well,
loosely this one--had been one of his.

  "About the exercise equipment..." He started and had to clear the huskiness from his throat.

  Valerie stopped in front of his desk, letting the coat fall open, waiting for his reaction.

  His eyes about popped out of his head, like her breasts were threatening to pop out of the extremely low-cut top of the black silk, nearly see-thru dress that stopped in a flutter of ruffles barely two inches below the thong she wore. His gaze darkened even more as he noted the thong, and then the bare length of her legs ending in 5-inch hooker heels.

  "Good gawd! Where did you get..." His gaze slid over her again in a lover's caress as she dropped the coat to the floor.

  She took a spread-legged stance, hands on hips, bust thrust forward. "Do you really care where I got this dress?"

  He swallowed hard and shook his head. He inched toward her, chest moving deeply with each breath he drew in.

  Deciding to push his buttons a little more because she enjoyed doing it, she said, "I suppose you'll need to discuss this outrageous purchase too." Then she pushed him further by giving him a sassy, slow spin so he could take in the back of the dress with its heart-shaped cutout that exposed her bare bottom and the whisper of thong. "I thought this dress appropriate for a couple of reasons."

  She saw his glazed eyes and did another slow model's turn. "First, because it clearly shows you the results of the exercise I've been doing for the last few months. Yes, exercise. More than speed shopping."

  She stopped half-turned away, posing with one hand tousling her hair, one hand resting next to the heart opening. "Second, because it shouldn't give you any trouble when you give me that spanking you so won't to give."

  He didn't appear able to move, only stare. Wanting this part over with, she reached out to take his hand and pulled him with her to the leather couch in the corner of the office. He sat down obediently, and then reached out to hold her in front of him. His hands found the heart opening and massaged her bare cheeks while she stood there trembling. Needing. Longing.

  "Well, whatever you've been doing, your ass is fantastic." With that, he drew her down over his knee. "I'm going to paint that little heart red."

  Even though he planned to spank her--and she knew it wouldn't be fun--Valerie tingled all over. He smelled so good, felt so good. It was probably pathetic to feel excited about being in this awkward position over his lap, but if it would eventually lead to another much more enjoyable position...

  She stretched out and curled her fingers into the cushions in front of her. "Paint away if you must."

  She glanced back and found him staring--almost drooling--at her exposed cheeks. "Pink is a good shade," she offered.

  Slowly, teasingly he traced the inner edges of the heart with a long index finger. She squirmed as he said, "Red. Hearts should be red." One more tracing. "With all of that attitude today, sweetheart, your ass needs to be reddened."

  Instead of the usual brisk "get-it-done" kind of spanking he normally gave her, Jett took his time. The swats started out slow, light, almost sensual. And he did several more tracings of that heart opening. She felt the heat growing on her bottom, but the heat building inside her was more intense. She couldn't stop a moan from escaping.

  As if that sound made him realize he'd been more playing than punishing, he changed tactics. He tucked her against him and made the swats harder, sharper, more attention-getting. "We're not going to talk about whose money paid for the equipment tonight. We will at another time."

  He encouraged her response with several brisk Swats! to the underside of her bottom. "Okay! Another time."

  His style changed once more, to the disciplinarian now. With the firmness of the Swats she was reminded of the consequences for acting childish, for getting sassy, for breaking their ground rules. Squirms changed to determined wriggles away from the hard hand painting her poor bottom redder and redder.

  "I also want to hear about this job you had. At another time." The painting continued and he was a true artist when he gave a sound spanking.

  "Okay! Later! Ohhhhhhh... ohhhhh....ohhhhh. Please." Tears streamed silently down her face. Her fingers ached from gripping the cushions so tightly. She'd kicked off both killer heels. "I'm sorry."

  To her surprise, he stopped the spanking. His index finger returned to lightly tracing the heart. "Red. The heart is good and red now."

  Pain throbbed all over her bottom, but his gentle touch was distracting her at the same time. She winced when he touched certain spots. But she didn't want him to stop. She wanted... Yes, soundly spanked or not, she wanted him. Now.

  She moved and felt the strength of how much he wanted her as well. His cock pulsed beside her. His breathing was deep, rough. Ignoring the pain, she slipped from his lap. "Jett..."

  They rarely made love right after he spanked her. He preferred her to have time to think about why he'd spanked her. But sometimes...

  His gaze held her as tightly as if his hands did. "It's been months." He glanced lower. "And I just spanked you."

  "That you did, and I promise to think about why later." She slipped the spaghetti straps of the dress off her shoulders, shimmied out of the dress, and stood before him in nothing but the black lace thong and hooker heels.

  It was too much for him. He dove for her and quickly showed her just how much he'd missed her during the last six months. Even as they lie sated in each other's arms on the carpet later, Valerie knew this was only the beginning. Her husband with the battered heart and bruised ego would take more healing than this to consider staying married to her. She could be an excellent nurse if necessary. She planned to win back him and the marriage by Valentine's Day, five weeks away.

  Chapter Three

  Lord, her husband could be stubborn! Valerie heard the garage door closing as she switched from the TreadClimber to the recumbent bike. It had been three days since their little tryst in his office. She'd thought she'd made some headway that night in winning Jett back. He'd certainly given her a lot of undivided, intense attention right there on the carpet of his plush office. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he'd enjoyed it. Especially the teasing little outfit she'd worn.

  She set the timer and began pedaling. Yes, he'd taken great pleasure in "painting" her exposed heart-shaped area red. A fact that had made their wild playtime on the carpet, with her on her back, slightly uncomfortable. It hadn't taken him two seconds, though, to make her temporarily forget all about any lingering pain in her bottom.

  Pedaling faster, she thought about how he'd still not made any real attempts to come home earlier in the evenings. Although he had called her a couple of times in the middle of the day. Teeny, tiny baby steps. She had known this task of hers wouldn't be easy. She'd just hoped he might cooperate better, maybe do a little pursuing of her as well. She heaved a sigh. She was not giving up!

  A glance at the wall clock across the room told her she'd need to get this exercise over with. She had a video meeting with a new client at nine. After that she'd need to work on setting up her studio. She'd decided yesterday that the best place would be the pool house. It would give her privacy and she wanted that for a while. Jett had known she enjoyed the arts, but he'd never really encouraged to pursue anything within her range of talents. She'd gotten the impression from him that he didn't consider being an artist a real career. It was darn hard work, especially if you ever wanted to be taken seriously. She knew that she'd been fortunate when a friend in Maui had introduced her to an art collector, and that person had sponsored a showing for her. And then another, and then another. She'd been painting like crazy since her move to Maui, a stress relief mechanism for her. And she'd sold everything she'd painted. Now she needed more completed pieces for a showing in Dallas in a couple of months. She also had two special orders to produce.

  Her cell phone rang and she slid off the bike to hurry down the short hallway to her bedroom where she'd left the phone. She'd hoped to be moved into the master bedroom with Jett by now, but... Patie
nce. Think patient.

  "Valerie speaking," she said in a rush as she answered just before the call would go to voicemail.

  "Aaron and Tom and their wives are meeting us for dinner at Raymond's tonight. Seven o'clock. I'll pick you up at 6:30," Jett stated as if he were in a hurry to deliver the announcement and get on to more important matters.

  "Is this a request for my presence? Or an order?" she asked, momentarily forgetting about being patient with him.

  He didn't say anything for a second. His tone was not quite apologetic when he said, "I just assumed you would be free to go. If not..."

  If not, he'd go without her. No. "I'm available tonight." She hadn't been to Raymond's so she asked, "Type of dress? I've never heard of the place."

  "I guess it opened after you left." He drew in a breath. "Cocktail dress."

  He was sounding impatient and she had things to do as well. "I'll be ready. Bye." She hung up before he could respond. She could almost see his expression: stunned. He was always the one in a hurry, always the one who ended a phone call quickly. Turn about was fair play.

  Jett stared at the phone for a second unable to believe Valerie had hung up on him. Yes, she'd told him good-bye first. But she'd hung up on him. He couldn't remember her ever being so abrupt with him, as if she had important things to do. She stayed up all hours of the night doing who knows what in what he now considered "her" wing of the house. He knew how late because he came home late from the office and then stayed up in "his" wing even later until he saw the lights go off in her bedroom. Their bedrooms were on opposite ends of the sprawling house, but his windows looked across the pool to her windows. On some nights he'd seen her pacing around her room. Neither of them liked to pull the drapes and with the high privacy walls and distance from any neighbors it didn't matter. Except that he'd learned she had developed a new habit, a very difficult habit for him to endure from a distance: she evidently slept naked now.

  His slacks were once again becoming a bit uncomfortable and he had to shift a little on the car seat. Naked. Heaven help him, she slept completely naked.