“We’ve got some time,” Henry countered. “They’ll be fine in the ice chest. In fact, I think it’s only fair that I get a sneak preview of the items being offered. You can understand how that might be beneficial, can’t you?”
Before she caught herself, Quincy had reached out and swatted his hand away from where he was reaching for another cane, only to have Henry capture her hand and chuckle.
“Ah, I see it will take more than one lesson to break you of that habit.” Quincy gave a soft groan as Henry brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“Um, I’ve got to find those tags for Abby,” Quincy said, attempting to pull her hand free.
“That’s fine,” Henry said, reaching with his free hand to pat her backside and squeezing her hand before releasing it. “I can wait.” Henry’s chuckle had her practically flying from the aisle, Abby taking her time in joining her behind the counter.
Quincy dug through a basket filled with office supplies and found another package of tags. She offered them to Abby but her eyes were on Henry, widening when she saw him standing in front of the paddles she’d been dusting the other morning. “Oh my,” she murmured and then gave a small jump when he removed one from its hook and swatted it against his thigh, the crack distinct and very audible.
Abby looked between the two and leaned her elbows on the counter. “What’s the matter, Auntie? Rethinking that entire ‘let’s offer a wide variety of spanking implements in our store’?” She ignored Quincy’s attempt to shush her. “If what I saw outside means anything, I’m betting that not only will you benefit from the sale but, well, let’s be perfectly honest, it seems you might benefit in another, far more personal way as well.”
“Shh, he might hear you,” Quincy said with a hiss. “I don’t need him to hear you offer any more suggestions, thank you very much.”
“Speaking of thanks, did you find the little present outside your door last night?” Abby paused and leaned in a bit closer. “Or should I say, early this morning? Seems you might be needing it sooner rather than later.”
“Very funny,” Quincy said, shaking her head. “Exactly whose idea was it to leave a huge jar of arnica cream? Yours, Venia’s or Lizzy’s?”
Abby waved her hand in the air. “It was a collective decision but I’m far more interested in hearing exactly what happened after you left the cookout. That text ‘I’m fine’ is so not going to satisfy your friends. Curious minds need to know.”
Quincy just shook her head. “Remember, curiosity killed that cat.”
Abby laughed. “Ah, but satisfaction brought it back. But then again, from what I’m seeing, I think I can pretty much guess what happened. I’m guessing you made a wonderful apology and discovered that your cowboy is as strict as Uncle Joe was. And from the look in your eyes, I’m guessing that he is also just as forgiving, despite that whole ‘another lesson’ warning. The only question I really have is how accurate are my guesses?”
They both squealed when Henry spoke from directly behind them. “Smart niece you have there, Quincy, though the warning was, in truth, a statement of fact. You have a great shop, ladies. Love the eclectic variety.”
“Isn’t it fun?” Abby said with a bright smile.
“Definitely promises to be,” Henry said cryptically. “I’d like this, please.”
Quincy felt her heart stutter as his hand came up, just knowing she’d see that paddle he’d been smacking against his thigh. She was about to inform him they didn’t make sales on Sunday when he had laid an innocent slate board on the counter.
“Do you have some chalk to go with this?”
“Sure, and an eraser,” Abby answered, retrieving both from beneath the counter.
After paying for the items, Henry accepted the bag with a smile. “Thank you. Ready to go, honey?” He took Quincy’s hand and as he led her to the door, he turned back. “I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow, Abby. I’ve added quite a few items to my preview list.”
“Great, see you then,” Abby said. “Have a great afternoon! No need to hurry back, I’ve got everything under control.”
Henry helped Quincy into the truck and after she fastened her seat belt, he kissed her cheek, handing her the bag containing his purchase.
“Thought I’d purchase that paddle, didn’t you, my dear?”
Quincy felt her face flush and squirmed just the tiniest bit suddenly having an urge to run back inside the store and instruct Abby to hide every implement in the place. Before she could assure him that she hadn’t been concerned at all, he chuckled as he shut her door.
After he’d climbed behind the wheel, she held out her hand. “Why don’t you give me that list and I’ll see what sort of deal I might be able to offer you?”
“No thank you, my dear,” Henry said, patting his shirt pocket where he’d slipped his list.
“I just meant to make sure I can offer you the best price.”
“That squirming you are doing tells me that some beautiful lady is either attempting to bribe me or wondering how quickly she can make my choices either mysteriously disappear or be marked as sold to some nameless collector.” He ignored her snort and chuckled as he continued. “I’d pay whatever price needed just to surprise you with each and every choice I made.”
Each and every one? Exactly how much was he planning on buying and where exactly had he looked in her store?
“You look so adorable when you are thinking so hard,” Henry said as he turned onto Spanking Loop. “Relax, Quincy, anything I do purchase will benefit you in two ways.”
“What do you mean?”
“First, as a businesswoman, you’ll earn a profit, and second, if you are naughty, you will have the opportunity to revisit those items you’ve so lovingly collected.” At her slight moan, he glanced over and grinned. “From that sweet little moan and that adorable wiggling you are doing, I see that you understand those visits will occur in a far more, shall we say, ‘instructive’ way?”
Henry grinned as Quincy helped him put away the groceries. Though she attempted to conceal her efforts, he was well aware of her quickly stepping away whenever he got too close for comfort.
“How about we make some lunch?” he suggested, placing bread, deli-meat and cheese on the breakfast bar. He watched her relax as she made the sandwiches while he set the table and poured glasses of tea. As she placed their plates on the table, he pulled out her chair.
Taking a bite of his sandwich, he grinned seeing that though she was nibbling hers, she constantly darted looks at the basket on the table.
“It’s in the bedroom,” he offered.
“What is?” When he simply quirked his eyebrow, she blushed.
“No need to worry though,” Henry said, taking a sip of his tea. “A kitchen offers its own implements.” Her blush deepened and while he finished his lunch, her sandwich remained virtually untouched. Deciding he’d played long enough, he reached across the table and took her hand.
“After you’ve finished eating, you may choose one.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“I believe you know why, my dear. After all, that discussion is but hours old.” He held her gaze until she looked away. Knowing he could simply ignore the warning he’d given her, he had the gut feeling that while she might appreciate the lack of penalty for swatting him, she’d lose respect for his authority. He was already in love with this woman and had no intention of doing anything that would ever cause her to doubt his commitment in all aspects of their lives together.
He brought her eyes back to his with his next statement. “Of course, if you feel unable to choose, I will be more than willing to help you make the decision. Your choice.”
“It was just a reflexive action.”
“I heard that last night and you agreed you needed help in breaking that habit, correct?” At her rather reluctantly given nod, he continued. “I promised to help you, so Quincy, every time you swat somebody, know that it will be my turn to repeat the same reflexive action a dozen times again
st your ass.”
“Oh, so I don’t get to choose the number?”
Henry stood and leaned down to drop a kiss on top of her head. “‘Fraid not, that’s a decision made by your HOH. And that dozen is only a starting point. Repeated lessons will up that count.” He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Were his instincts failing him? Was he pushing her too fast? He knew she’d practiced domestic discipline for her entire life and yet had been free to do as she pleased for over five years now. They’d begun establishing the rules of their relationship but that relationship was still in infancy. There was only one way to find out.
“I’ll be in the office,” he said as he returned to the table and put his hand on her shoulder. “Take your time, Quincy. Eat your lunch. Remember this, it is completely your choice. If you aren’t ready to accept me as your HOH and all that entails, I’m not going to push you. I’m willing to wait until you are.”
“No, you’re right,” Quincy said, reaching up and placing her hand atop his. “I do accept you and know that means accepting the fact that you’ll expect me to face the consequences of all my actions. I just… I’d just rather get it over with before I eat if you don’t mind.”
“If that’s what you prefer.”
Quincy nodded and stood, walking to the counter to pluck a wooden spoon she’d unpacked only the day before. Offering it to him, she said, “I guess I didn’t expect to be using your services again quite so soon. How do you want me?”
He grinned and she flushed again. “I mean…”
“I know what you mean, sweetheart. Right here is fine.” He tapped the spoon against the surface of the breakfast bar. When she came to him, he set down the spoon and reached for the bag, pulling out the slate board.
“You’ll stand here and write, ‘I will not swat’ on the board.” He saw her eyes move from the board to the spoon and back again.
“So I’m going to write lines?”
“Yes,” he answered and laid the chalk and eraser next to the board. She shrugged and reached to pick up the white chalk.
“Just a moment,” he said. It didn’t take but a moment to reach around and unsnap and unzip her jeans. “This is the stripping part I also promised, remember?”
Her groan told him she remembered that conversation as well. He lowered her jeans and her underwear down to her knees. Picking up the spoon again, he tapped it against the board. “Start writing, please.”
Once she’d written the line, she squealed as the spoon connected sharply against her bare bottom.
“Ouch!”
“Erase and write,” Henry said, watching the pink oval appear against her pale skin. By the time she’d erased and rewritten the words four times, each line was represented by another pink oval clearly embossed on her ass and her feet began to dance.
“Settle down, young lady, and watch your spelling. Mistakes only repeat the swat.” He had to bite back a chuckle when she stamped her foot and quickly added the second ‘l’ to the misspelled word ‘wil’.” She screeched and turned around when a harder swat was placed on her sit spot.
“That’s not fair, I corrected it!”
Henry quirked his eyebrow. “And I’m correcting you. Now, do you really wish to sass me?”
“No… no, Sir.”
“Then write.” He twirled the spoon as if to indicate she should twirl back around and get to writing, which she did.
Before the last promised stroke, he saw that she had changed her required words. The slate read, ‘Please, Sir, stop swatting me.’
Moving closer, he picked up the eraser, cleared he board and plucked the chalk from her fingers using it to write, ‘Please, my love, stop topping from the bottom.’
Though her rear was decorated with a dozen ovals, having received an extra for her spelling mistake, he knew the spanking had been far too easy but he truly didn’t care as she giggled and erased the board. Reading it, he stepped back to deliver her request, ‘I’m sorry, please swat me again’.
The spoon connected and she yelped loudly, her hands whipping back to cup her buttocks. Turning, she met his eyes. “I really am sorry. Thank you for caring enough to correct me.”
“You are welcome though you did make another mistake.”
“I did?”
Henry laid the spoon on the counter and pulled her into his arms. “Yes, you thanked me for caring when, Quincy, you should have thanked me for loving you enough to care.”
Her eyes widened and her hands came off her backside to wrap around his neck as he bent to kiss her.
Henry dropped his hands to cup her punished cheeks. The skin was only slightly warm, the ovals already fading. “Next time, young lady, there will be no choice to make. It will be the paddle and by the time you’re done, you’ll find sitting difficult. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Quincy said, giving a soft moan as he continued to caress the globes he’d spanked.
With a final squeeze, he released her. “Sit and finish your lunch.” When she began to pull her clothing back into place, he shook his head. “Nope, I think sitting on your bare spanked bottom will help drive the lesson home.”
He pulled out her chair and watched as she gingerly took her seat. Her face was far pinker than her rear and yet the look in her eyes told of her acceptance as well as her desire. Taking his own seat, he watched as she picked up her sandwich and took a healthy bite. The punishment over, she was no longer the least bit tense. He’d never understood why couples kept a fight or disagreement going for hours or even days, harboring secret resentment that was never truly released. Yes, a spanking hurt but the physical pain was brief, the naughtiness corrected and forgiveness given and accepted. To his way of thinking, domestic discipline offered so much more to a couple. It offered security in knowing he would take care of her in all ways and loving in that she trusted him to do just that.
He grinned as she gave both a slight squirm as well as a huge smile that had his cock hardening. The moment she was done, he pulled her from her chair and into his arms. Kissing her, his hands cupping her bare nates again, he pulled her close.
“At the risk of being considered sassy, is what I’m feeling a definition of what it means to ‘cowboy up’?”
Henry’s boom of laughter chased away the remnants of the cracking swats from her spanking. He adored the addition of her giggles. Patting her rump a bit harder, he bent to give her a quick kiss only to have her hand move to the back of his head, pulling him closer. Breaking away, he grinned.
“Unless you want to learn what it means to ‘ride-em cowboy’, I suggest we get you dressed and maybe unpack a few more boxes.”
Quincy’s smile had his cock not only up but actually throbbing. Her look as she moved her hand to cup his erection had him gritting his teeth. “Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson?”
She leaned in to give him a kiss before moving to the breakfast bar, her bare hips swaying. She erased the slate and wrote something before turning back to him, the slate held in front of her.
Seeing the words ‘Giddy-Up’, he crossed the space in two steps, and took the board from her with one hand while snagging her around her waist with the other.
They both began to laugh when she stumbled a bit attempting to keep up with him as he attempted to lead her from the kitchen. Grinning, he bent and pulled her clothing back into position. “Stripping does usually take a repeated application.” Her laugh had his pulse racing as they reached his bedroom and she saw his Stetson atop one of the bedposts.
“You really are my cowboy aren’t you?”
“Forever and always.”
Henry undressed her slowly, savoring every moment as each item of clothing dropped to the floor. When she attempted to look away, her hands lifting to cover her breasts, he gently pushed them to her side and pulled her close.
“Don’t, you are a beautiful woman, Quincy.” At her cute little snort, he dropped his hands to cup her bare bottom, giving each buttock
a squeeze. Her gasp was accompanied by her pressing against his hands. “I’d have no problem demonstrating what happens when my lady denigrates herself.” He nibbled her neck before speaking again. “Though I adore your little bottom being this nice soft pink, I’m sure I’ll love it just as much if turned a dark cherry red.” He could easily feel her tremble as he bent to kiss the skin behind her ear. Moving his lips just the slightest had him speaking directly into her ear. “Your choice, darlin.” He stepped away and couldn’t decide if he was pleased or a bit disappointed when her hands remained at her sides but was definitely pleased when she reached up and began to unbutton his shirt.
They made love slowly, neither rushing as lips and fingers explored each other. The moment he sank into her, the gasp of her pleasure filling the room, he knew he was lost. Each kiss was a promise of more to come. When she tensed and exploded against him, he knew the tears on her cheeks were not from pain. He felt the same, the realization that though they’d both been blessed with deep love for another, they were being offered the chance to share that incredible blessing with a new person. Bending over her, he kissed each cheek before taking her mouth as he plunged deeper into her sweet warmth.
When he kissed her tears away, Quincy knew he understood. She felt no guilt but did know that at this moment, in Henry’s arms, she was truly letting Joe go. When his lips settled so gently on hers, she could swear she heard her husband telling her it was all right, it was time for her to move on. With a silent prayer, she thanked both the man she had loved and shared her life and body with and thanked God for the one presently in her arms. She wrapped her arms around Henry, holding him to her as he took his own pleasure, the soft moan he uttered filling her soul as he filled her body.
Chapter 8
Quincy opened her eyes and instantly felt her cheeks flush. Good grief, Quincy Alexandria Lauder, what were you thinking! Of course, she hadn’t really been thinking, she’d been as far away from thinking as a woman under the spell of some charismatic, incredibly sexy, wonderful cowboy could be. Her eyes fell on the pile of clothing she’d had been so anxious to get out of only a couple of hours earlier and she had to bite back a moan. Feeling the bed shift when Henry moved beside her, she slammed her eyes shut. Okay, girl. You are buck naked with an equally naked man right behind you. How in the world are you going to manage to get out of this bed and dress before he comes to his senses?
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