A short while later, she was as ready as ever—for bed or whatever he had in mind—and taking a deep breath, she switched off the light and opened the bathroom door. Jared sat waiting for her on their bed. Immediately, his gray eyes trained on her and he commanded her presence with the crook of a finger. Although outwardly calm, Mr. Cool was still ticked. She’d seen it often enough, the tension in his jaw and his rigidly held shoulders, but his tell-all was the silvery gray intensity of his eyes, a certain dead giveaway. He rarely lost control, for which she was glad. Because the one time she’d seen it—directed at someone else, thank the good Lord—it had been worse than scary. Oh, he wasn’t violent scary, but the icy cold voice and lethal stare, coming from a man of his size, was more than intimidating. The power and strength he exuded were predictable, his reaction not so much. It made folks wary and garnered respect; it was also unnerving as hell.
Swallowing uneasily, she approached the man she loved. She was confident she could trust him, even though she may not exactly like what he had in store for her. Still, Stacy tried a pre-emptive maneuver out of self-preservation. “I don’t know what came over me, Jared. I’m also very sorry for how rude I was to your parents at dinner.” Both statements were true. She didn’t admit that she wasn’t at all sorry for being rude to him. He deserved it.
“I love you, Stacy, so much so that I’m going to paddle your behind for that recklessness stunt. Afterwards, we’ll talk about your behavior at dinner.”
Well, crap! Her tactical offensive hadn’t worked worth a hoot. That was made perfectly clear when he patted his thigh, his non-verbal command for her to get in position. She hated when he made her assume the position. She’d much rather he take control and put her there. He knew that, but he insisted she do it herself. He said that despite their understanding about who was in charge, by willingly coming over his knee—or bed, couch, or table—it reinforced her acceptance of his role as disciplinarian.
Hesitantly moving forward, her hands knit tightly together to control their trembling. She knew stalling wouldn’t help, but she paused just out of reach.
His eyes skewered her, his regard so intense she knew he didn’t miss a single nuance of her body language. He waited, making no move to coerce or influence her decision. He didn’t have to. She had agreed to this arrangement months ago, long before she had accepted his proposal. She knew what she’d been agreeing to and now, she reaffirmed her consent to be spanked for her misbehavior by lowering herself over her fiancé’s lap.
Once she was settled, Jared wasted no time in baring her bottom, sliding her short nightgown up around her waist and pulling her thin bikini panties down around her knees. Without hesitation, his palm connected sharply and repeatedly, applying stinging swats to the fullest part of her rear. He gave her no warm-up, not tonight. Nor was there the slow buildup that she very much enjoyed, no rubbing, and no chatting about her transgression first. In just a few moments, he lit her ass on fire. Knowing his mood, she knew she was in for it. After a dozen blistering whacks, he paused.
“I don’t ever want to see you jumping from a moving vehicle again, Stacy Lynn. Do you hear me? My heart nearly burst inside my chest.”
That brief emotion-laced lecture was all he gave before resuming the spanking. He usually waxed on, taking his time, asking questions. She must have really scared him. Tears of regret stung her eyes and she felt them overflow, tracking down her cheeks as two stunning strokes alternated against each sit spot. Of course, they hurt, it was a spanking after all, but the tears were not so much from the physical pain. Rather, they were for the emotional distress she had caused him, and subsequently, herself.
Two more strokes zinged across each thigh. Okay, now that was physical pain.
Robbed of breath, it took her a moment before she managed to gasp out, “Ouch! Jared, that burns.”
“Good,” he replied succinctly. “Remember this the next time you even think about doing something so foolish.”
“I will. I swear, Jared. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ll apologize to everyone tomorrow for my behavior. I promise.”
At last, his hand stilled and came to rest gently against her blazing cheeks. As he rubbed, the heat spread evenly across her skin. As usual, the fiery sensation also started a tingling between her thighs, which she clamped instinctively together.
“Stand up now.”
She rose shakily and stood before him feeling ashamed over her childish actions. As her panties started to slide down her legs, she reached to stop them.
“No, leave them.” His hands slid up the backs of her thighs and cupped her flushed cheeks as he pulled her into his chest. With his six foot plus frame, even seated on the bed, they were almost eye level. His expression wasn’t any less stern after administering her punishment.
“Tell me what you were thinking about when you jumped out that way.”
She frowned, her gaze dipping to his chin, still not ready.
He grunted. “All right then, tell me about your conduct at dinner. Why are you sweet and genial with everyone you meet, but whenever you get around my mother you turn as prickly as a porcupine?”
She took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her hands, then shrugged and said, “I don’t know.”
His face darkened like a thundercloud. Uh-oh! Wrong answer. Stacy knew how much he hated ‘I don’t know’ and the shoulder shrug always pissed him off too. Now, as ticked off as he was, she’d gone and given him the double whammy. Smooth move, Stace!
“You don’t know why you acted like a petulant five-year-old at dinner tonight?”
“I said I’d apologize.”
His eyes rose to the ceiling. Was he counting to ten, or praying for strength? It didn’t matter because the next instant he exhaled forcefully and rose to his feet. Pulling her across the bedroom by the hand, Jared guided her to what he called her reflection corner.
“If you’re going to act like a child, you can stand in the corner like one until you can explain yourself.”
Stacy felt his looming presence behind her as she got in position with her nose in the corner. The clearing of his throat served as a reminder of his other corner requirement. She could feel his eyes upon her as she reluctantly reached behind her and pulled her gown to the small of her back, baring her burning and undoubtedly red bottom.
“This is so humiliating,” Stacy whispered. She knew better than to complain, especially while he was in this mood, but her mouth didn’t always cooperate with her brain. She wasn’t surprised by the added swats that fell on each cheek. There was no talking during corner time unless Jared asked a question.
“How is this humiliating? This is just you and me, which is a lot less embarrassing than your behavior at dinner tonight when we had an audience. As a reward, you can stay here and reflect on your actions this evening—silently.”
He was right. She’d acted like a brat in front of his parents. It was bad enough to behave like that with just the two of them, but at a family dinner, it was inexcusable.
As the long minutes passed, she stood motionless, muscles tensed and strained, listening to him moving around behind her. He wouldn’t utter another word unless her actions necessitated further correction. Otherwise, there was silence until her time was up. When he went to the bathroom and she heard the water running, she slumped in resignation. Leaning her forehead against the wall, she did what she’d been sent there to do—reflect on her behavior.
Dinner at Jared’s parents had started out pleasant enough. His father, Russell, was a handsome man in his early sixties. The picture of health, he foretold what Jared would look like at that age. Like Jared, he was quiet and introspective, enjoying a lively debate when the subject intrigued him. Tonight, he quietly let his wife chatter excitedly throughout dinner about wedding plans.
Jared’s mother, at fifty, was still a beautiful woman who looked a decade younger than her years. Jared had inherited her wavy sable brown hair, but the rest was his father.
Joanne had a vibrant personality with a natural effervescence that was infectious. Joanne, who had always been kind and accepting of her as a potential daughter-in-law, had offered to take on many of the tasks of wedding planning when Stacy had started dragging her feet. She was unflaggingly patient, voicing not a single complaint about the missed appointments with the florist, baker, or bridal salon. Tonight, she’d spoken at length about flowers; gardenias versus hydrangeas, and roses or lilacs. She had then moved her focus to the upcoming engagement party she and Russ were throwing for them. As Stacy listened to menu options like truffle soup, carpaccio, chateaubriand and bruschetta al pomodoro, her eyes glazed over. She didn’t know what any of that was. Bruschetta was Italian toast, wasn’t it? What the hell was carpaccio? Whatever it was, be it Italian, French, or Swahili, Stacy didn’t want it. What happened to a small, simple celebration? When Joanne started in on wines, caviars, and a white glove service, Stacy shut down. As she went on and on about place settings and crystal, Stacy thought she’d go mad.
“Did Jared tell you JAMA is publishing his clinical trial on that new bone growth stimulator?” Three sets of eyes turned on her. The topic was totally random, and interrupting his mother in the midst of her party planning soliloquy was rude. She’d felt Jared’s disapproving sidelong glance, having little tolerance for disrespect, but anything was better than the mind-numbing endless droning about something that she didn’t want. She just couldn’t let her go on. In the ensuing silence, she wondered if she should say something. No, Jared had promised to speak with her. She looked at him, her eyes silently signaling toward his mother, hoping he’d get the hint. Not dense by any means, he accepted the change of subject.
“I told them about the journal request when the letter arrived several weeks ago. However, I don’t think I told you my other news. Marc, Ben, and I have decided to move forward with the new surgery center deal. Mom, I’d like your opinion on the final contracts before we close the deal, if you have time.”
Stacy’s eyes widened in surprise; she’d met with the attorneys about the final contract revisions only yesterday. Were there some last-minute changes? If so, why hadn’t he mentioned them to her before? She was taking the lead on the business end of this joint venture.
“Is there a problem that I’m not aware of?”
“No. I just thought it would be smart to have Mom’s stamp of approval before we take the final proposal to the board. She knows the inner workings of the clinic. She helped open it after all. With millions of dollars on the line, another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”
Another set of more experienced eyes is what Stacy heard. He didn’t trust her. Hurt and disappointment washed over her and she looked away, her eyes accidentally connecting with Joanne briefly. Russ asked a question about the surgical facilities then and distracted Jared. He answered quickly enough that she didn’t think he noticed her reaction, but Joanne couldn’t have missed it.
As she listened to Jared and his father talk about clinical outcomes, decreased infection rates, and cutting-edge technology, Stacy thought about all the long hours she had put in on this deal. The joint venture with the new surgery center was a great opportunity for Jared and his partners. It would significantly reduce their cases at the hospital, which was a definite perk. They would still need to go to the medical center for complex and risky procedures, but minor surgeries and diagnostic procedures could be done at the new site, which was practically in the clinic’s back door.
She’d sat in on meetings for months, many early on when Jared had little patience for the boring financial details. He hated the business side of any new endeavor, which included poring over tedious spreadsheets, profitability and risk projections, capital expense itemizations, and more boring accounting details that made up the due diligence required for this type of venture. Jared preferred to get a brief summary when he had to make a decision or when a vote was called. Stacy had met at length with the attorneys when they reviewed the contract drafts and gone over the figures with the accountants until they’d been ready to pull their hair out. Some of the amendments, which would make the new business even more profitable, were her ideas, so she was wounded when he asked his mom for a final review.
“Surely Stacy has this well in hand.” Stacy’s eyes flashed to Joanne’s gratefully; she at least understood.
Jared had looked up then, as if startled. His eyes shifted between them. “Of course, Stacy has been pivotal as we’ve moved forward on this project. She won’t mind if you take a look, will you, honey?”
Talk about putting her on the spot. Jared was usually more perceptive than this. He knew how involved she was with this deal. She’d certainly kept him and the other two partners up to date with emails, attachments, and incessant moaning about all the headaches along the way. Until recently, he hadn’t even attended meetings, unless they were clinical in nature. What had changed?
To Stacy, this was out of right field and it stung. This was her project. It was a professional challenge that she considered a measure of her capabilities and success. Now, Jared wanted his mama. Okay, that was unfair. Stacy didn’t have the same education, experience, or business savvy as Joanne, who was a highly regarded business woman holding the enviable position of CFO at a local health system. What bothered Stacy was that in the year since she’d been practice manager, no one had ever brought Joanne in on consult before. They had an experienced team of attorneys and accountants, whose expertise didn’t come cheap.
Granted, with everything and everyone focused on this deal, there had been little new business; therefore, little opportunity to consult. He’d usually ask his mom questions, even picking her brain about business over dinner, but it had been generalities and he’d never asked her to step in before. He did this same thing with his dad about medical issues, but hadn’t ever brought him in on a case.
Stacy could see his point from a business perspective. Joanne’s experienced eyes on the contracts before committing to the deal wouldn’t hurt. How could she protest and not sound petty and ungrateful? Joanne could make a mint consulting for businesses this way and they would be getting her expertise free. Stacy’s self-confidence wavered and she began questioning herself. What if she’d missed something important like capitalizing an expensive piece of equipment or transposed numbers in the revenue projections making $15 million into $51 million by mistake? No, she told herself. She’d been over and over those figures, her research and data were triple and quadruple checked by her and their accountants. Yet if she missed something, it would cost them dearly and she would only have herself to blame. In the end, she had nodded in agreement, sitting silently and swallowing her injured pride in the best interest of the clinic.
The group lapsed into silence after that as they continued with their meal. Stacy, who’d lost her appetite, hadn’t taken a bite. Her chest felt uncomfortably tight, her throat dry and constricted, and she was struck by a sudden wave of nausea. Abruptly excusing herself, she walked out of the room without another word.
She’d passed by the guest bathroom in the main hall, rushing to the smaller one at the back of the house. There were seven to choose from in the Bakers’ sprawling estate. She opted for the one farthest away from the dining room in hopes of getting a bit more time and privacy. She needed to recover her self-control and nurse her hurt feelings for a bit. She’d splashed water on her face and neck, then paced for a while, trying to regain her composure.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she’d tried to be objective. She looked like a kid, much younger than her years. As petite as she was, she often passed for a teenager, carded consistently at bars and restaurants, even at R-rated movies, which irritated her beyond anything. Only a few years out of school, she was still considered wet behind the ears to the business world. Still, she hadn’t done anything that would make Jared or any of the partners doubt her. Looking at the blond hair atop her head, dumb blonde jokes that had plagued her for years began to rattle around in her head.
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How do you change a blonde’s mind? Blow in her ear.
What do you call ten blondes standing ear to ear? A wind tunnel.
What do you call a blonde with a high IQ? A golden retriever.
As she studied her reflection, she saw her tear-bright eyes and cursed herself for her weakness. She’d done entirely too much crying in the past week. She’d identified it as one of the dozens of other issues she needed to work on with her therapist. Her therapist! A thousand thoughts and emotions streaked through her at a frenetic pace. Her tremulous hands came to her mouth in stunned realization. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Jared had always been attentive and concerned with her safety and well-being. Since the panic attack at the country club, he’d been overprotective. Now that he’d seen an attack for himself, it had obviously undermined his confidence in her. What else could it be? Looking for other reasons for his sudden doubt, she discarded each, one by one, coming back to her panic disorder and newly diagnosed PTSD each time. Great, now she had another label for which to be unjustly judged.
Just as being blond didn’t make her dumb, having PTSD or panic from a past trauma didn’t make her suddenly incompetent. Studying her hair in the mirror, she wondered if she should go red like Jessie, or maybe become a brunette. She could color her hair and erase the blond, that was an easy fix, but how could she erase Jared’s memory of her psychological meltdown?
Stacy paced agitatedly in the long bathroom and had been gone for at least fifteen minutes when Jared had come looking for her. She’d worked herself into quite a pique by this time and refused to tell him what had prompted her to leave so abruptly.
Sweet Salvation Page 17