Just One Night

by Carolyn Faulkner

  "I understand," he reassured her, taking her hand as he drove and putting it on his thigh.

  "And you're not mad about me paying for lunch, either?" she ventured.

  He shook his head. "No, ma'am, I am not. My only hesitance is that I don't want you spending your hard earned money on me. The chauvinist in me definitely wants it to be the other way around. But, although I still have a few rough edges, I am an enlightened, informed, feminist man—mostly."

  She had to laugh at that.

  "And I absolutely understand that you want to pay for things, and frankly, I thank you for even offering to. Lots of people not only don't pay, they never bother to even offer, because they assume I'll cover it. It kind of makes you get to feeling used, after a while, if you let it."

  "I can see that. I want to pull my own weight as much as possible."

  "I respect that, baby. I respect the hell out of that." Rad brought the backs of her fingers to his lips to kiss. "But know I'm not going to let you bankrupt yourself, either, because there are things I want to do with you or share with you that you might not be able to afford."

  "As long as you won't resent it, that's fine by me."

  He wasn't looking at her as he spoke. In fact, he was deftly changing lanes. But when he said it, she knew he really meant it by the tone of his voice. "There is no way I would resent the opportunity to make you happy and do anything that you might enjoy. I'll take any excuse at all to keep you near me."

  The content—and tone—of their discussion made her bolder. "So, how will I be able to tell when you're angry with me?"

  "Well, I'm not given to anger, generally, just so you know. I don't like to yell. My father yelled a lot, and to me, it signals a loss of control."

  Andrea nodded. "Yelling scares me."

  He squeezed her hand. "But to answer your question, you'll know when I'm unhappy with you, most probably, because you will very likely have gotten a firm scolding, and your bottom will be burning—much more so than it is now."

  Rad caught her lopsided grin out of the side of his eye. "What?"

  "My rear end doesn't hurt at all now." The words were out of her mouth before she realized it; she'd been a complete idiot and bragged to him about something she should certainly have kept to herself. The hand that came up to be clamped over her mouth was too late. "Damn!" she exclaimed from behind it, not appreciating the evil chuckles it inspired in him at all.

  "Well, now. That tells me I'm not spanking you nearly hard—or long—enough. Thank you ever so much for bringing that important bit of information to my attention."

  She stomped her foot in anger at herself. "Son of a bitch! When will I learn to keep my fat mouth shut?"

  He just sat there, grinning like an idiot.

  So she smacked his shoulder in retribution, even though she knew he barely felt it, especially in comparison to the spankings he gave her!

  It was a glorious, utterly hedonistic weekend. They spent their days, generally, wandering around the city, going to whatever events caught their eye. They spent the next day at a kite flying event in the park, then took a drive into the mountains to hike, heading home exhausted and falling asleep in each other's arms. And, although they had been intending to go to a matinee showing of It on Monday, they never made it. And neither of them ever felt the lack, either. Instead, they spent a long, lazy, luxurious day in bed—eating there, making love there, and talking there.

  That was one of the best things about Rad, as far as Andrea was concerned. He liked to talk—about everything. They discussed archeology, religion, politics, sports—although that was a bit of a lopsided conversation—nothing was off limits. He liked to talk about their relationship, too, such as it was in its nascent form, unlike Connor, who had ducked nearly every conversation she'd tried to start with him about their failing marriage, until the very last one where he'd left her.

  And Rad didn't seem obsessed with his phone or the television, although he was on it more than she was—that wasn't very hard for anyone to do—and she never felt that he was neglecting her for it. She rarely watched anything but educational documentaries, like Planet Earth, and her phone was little more than a phone to her. She owned a laptop, but she hadn't brought it with her. If she needed to, she could use her phone for the same things, without having to lug that around.

  Rad was grateful she wasn't as bound to technology as most people were. It was probably a saving grace for him at the moment. He had always wanted her to relax—for someone who was as staid as she was, at least in part—she was very tense all the time, and he tried to help her with that. But he was really the one who needed to and couldn't. He felt as if he was living with a sword of Damocles over his head, and it was driving him crazy. He knew he should just come clean to her, but he didn't want to screw things up between them.

  He could see forty from where he was standing, and he had finally found a woman with whom he knew he could—hell, he was largely there already—fall in love. She was so perfect for him, and they had such a wonderful time when they were together. He'd let it go too long already, and he didn't think she'd forgive him for not telling her from the outset. But he knew it was going to bite him in the butt at some point. Rad only hoped that Andrea could forgive him, when—not if—she found out.

  He really didn't want to let her go Monday night, but she insisted, since she didn't have anything at his place that she could wear to work. Well, she did—but it was the same outfit she'd worn Friday, and she wasn't eager to give her eagle-eyed, gossipy coworkers a chance to razz her about it.

  Rad insisted on taking her bag and accoutrements out to her car for her, tucking it in the back seat and opening her door for her.

  "You're sure you have to go home tonight?" He was so cute when he didn't get his way.

  Andrea looked up at him as she put her hands on his chest. "Yes, I do, and you know I do, for the same reason that has been true all along. I can't work on no sleep."

  She popped up on her toes to kiss him, but he held her there, as she'd suspected he might, deepening the kiss and bending her back over his hard arm.

  She pulled away from him, not vice versa, leaning her forehead against his. "You've got to put me down, Rad."

  He growled ferociously at that, but he set her carefully on her feet at the same time then reluctantly handed her into her car, only to lean into it and kiss her again. "Drive very carefully."

  "I will."

  "Do you have everything you need?"

  "Yes, I do," she said, remembering that she needed to get gas and hoping that she remembered that on the way home, too. She turned the car on so she could see how much she had, wondering if she could make it all the way home, where gas was a little cheaper than in the chi-chi berg he lived in.

  But the indicator went all the way to full! She knew she shouldn't have that much gas, because, even though Friday had been payday, she hadn't stopped to get any because she wanted to get to him as soon as possible.

  "How did that happen?" she asked out loud.

  "What?"

  "I shouldn't have a full tank of gas. I had about a quarter when I drove here—maybe less."

  "Oh."

  "I hope the indicator isn't broken." She frowned, biting her lip.

  "I'm sure it isn't," he soothed.

  Something about how he said that made Andrea look from the gas gauge to him, and back again. He could do a lot of things, but looking innocent wasn't one of them. "Tell me you did not fill up my tank, Rad."

  He blustered and tried to bamboozle her, but when confronted, he was a terrible liar. Wearing a ridiculous grin on his face, he looked around him, as if there was someone else there, and said, "Must've been the gas fairy."

  She turned more toward him in her seat. "Well, I hope the gas fairy realizes that if he does that again, he's going to get a smack."

  He raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't think the gas fairy would take very kindly to that kind of thing, I'm afraid. In fact, if that happened, he might feel the nee
d to exact retribution of a like kind."

  Her face darkened on a frown. "That's not right."

  "All's fair-y in love and war," he said with a straight face.

  "Oh, that was so bad! I should smack you just for that."

  She made as if to go, but he leaned in to kiss her one last time.

  "Thank you very much, gas fairy."

  "You're very welcome, gorgeous."

  That weekend established a pattern for them. They were generally separated by circumstances during the week—usually his—but she spent the weekends at his place. Well, one of his places, anyway, but she didn't know that the beautiful house she stayed in with him was only one of several places he owned.

  She couldn't believe her luck. He treated her like a queen. Sometimes he came for her in a limo, sometimes a motorcycle, one time a sports car, and another, in a surprisingly old pickup truck that didn't seem to suit him in the least. His wardrobe was a mystery to her, too. One day, it was a million dollar suit, the next, it could be a skin tight pair of well-worn jeans. Andrea didn't much care about any of it, as long as he was there.

  As much as he wanted to rush her into it, Rad was taking his time introducing her to a D/s lifestyle. He spanked her relatively frequently, especially when they had sex, but he didn't want to give her another punishment spanking—to move on to a real one—until they'd had a chance to talk more about what each of them might want from that kind of relationship, or, indeed, whether she'd be interested in adding that into their mix or not.

  He would love to have her as his sub, but he had rapidly graduated to the point where he would take whatever of her he could have. The more he saw of her, the further in love with her he fell, until he was bursting to tell her. She played her cards very close to the vest and hadn't really said much about how she felt about him, and he understood that, considering what kind of life she'd come from.

  Usually, it was the other way around. Women couldn't get men to acknowledge their feelings or talk about them, but he didn't mind being the catalyst for her to discover more of hers and, hopefully, figure out that she loved him, too. But even if she never got there, as long as she was willing to be with him, he'd be okay.

  It was one night during the middle of a vacation they had taken together to Colorado, when he decided to pin her down, literally and figuratively.

  Even though she had the seniority at her job to take her vacation pretty much any time she wanted, since she didn't have a family to worry about, she let everyone else take time over the holidays and during the middle of the summer. Andrea hated the heat anyway and preferred to be at work, where the air conditioning was much better than from her one, small window unit.

  So, as was her habit, she had taken—before meeting him—her four weeks and scattered them in the spring and fall, making sure she took her time after and before the snow fell. Those were her two favorite seasons, anyway. She sometimes headed to New England, sometimes to the shore. It depended on how she was feeling at the time and also how her finances were going, and she was just as happy to avoid the tourists, anyway, even though she was one herself.

  He had some business in Denver, which wasn't too far away from where they were staying, in a condo he owned that she assumed he had rented from the resort where it was located, which was an assumption he didn't bother to disabuse her of.

  Because it was the Rockies, and snow arrived earlier there than in the east, they were able to ski. Well, he was, anyway. She was only able to fall a lot. Yet he stayed with her, encouraging her while she was learning on the Bunny Slope. "Pizza! French Fries! Pizza! French Fries!" And when she inevitably ended up on her keister, or worse, face down in the white stuff, she'd inevitably counter with, "Snow Cone!"

  Still, she was a great sport, and by the end of her first day, she was almost—almost—able to go down the Bunny Slope without falling… often… sometimes… occasionally… rarely. She'd even encouraged him to go down the double black diamond slopes he liked, although he only did that twice, not wanting to be away from her much.

  He got her home and put her in a hot tub to soak, bringing her a snifter of brandy, even though it was only about four o'clock in the afternoon, to help ease the pain of what he thought were just stiff muscles.

  Then he helped her out of the tub and saw the enormous bruises on her hips, bum, and knees. "Aw, honey, I didn't mean for it to be so painful for you!"

  "I'm fine. Just a little sore," she said, shivering a little.

  Rad ducked away for a second to turn up the heat lamp as well as the heat in the room, even though he was sweating.

  He dried her off very gently and thoroughly. "I was going to have us go out to the Lodge for dinner tonight, but I think we'll eat in. Why don't you take a nap until dinner, hmm? You must be exhausted."

  "I'm not tired," she disagreed on a loud yawn, making him laugh.

  "Nonetheless." He gave her a look with raised eyebrows that she knew meant he intended to get his way, no matter what she wanted.

  And she was really too tired to argue with him about it anyway, regardless of what she'd said. So she let him tuck her in and slept for three hours. He only woke her up at seven so her nap wouldn't interfere with her sleep patterns, which he had learned were rather delicate and easily upset. The first thing he did was hand her a hot toddy, and it was fabulous! She wanted to be awakened that way every day and told him as much.

  "That could easily be arranged, Ms. Evans. Are you hungry, I hope? I'm starving."

  "Me, too."

  He'd ordered dinner in. "I ordered for you; I hope you don't mind."

  She didn't. She could be fussy, but he already knew more than enough about her so that she trusted what he'd gotten for her would be perfect, and it was.

  They shared a tomahawk style ribeye, with parmesan garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus, and another toddy, not to mention cheesecake for her and bread pudding for him.

  She had to admit it; she could get used to eating—to living—like this. It was amazing! The food, the accommodations, everything about everywhere he took her was top flight, and going home every weekend to eat Kraft Macaroni and Cheese was getting harder and harder, especially since he was always so reluctant to let her leave him.

  Andrea knew if she but said the word, he would have her living this kind of life every day, with him, in his beautiful house. But she wasn't there yet—if she ever got there before he tired of her. A couple days of it a week were about all she could allow herself to indulge in. She wanted to keep a foot in the real world, however drab and dull it was.

  As they were cuddled in front of a roaring fire on the couch, in their matching thick, fluffy robes, courtesy of the resort, Rad kissed the side of her head. "I want to talk to you about something."

  "You're sick and tired of me and you want me to go home?" she offered, so he didn't have to.

  "What?" He looked horrified at the thought. "No! Don't even kid about that, Andrea." He stared hard at her, and she had to look away. "I should spank you for even thinking that."

  "Why?" she asked, not particularly alarmed by his threat. If he was going to spank her, he would already be doing it. "You do know, most of the time, when I say something outrageously derogatory about myself, I don't mean it? That I'm usually just going for a laugh?"

  "Well, I can't tell the difference, and that wasn't at all funny to me, either."

  He sounded just about as unhappy with her as she'd ever heard him.

  "I'm sorry. I won't say anything like that again."

  "Damned straight."

  She loved hearing her expressions coming out of his mouth, in that proper accent of his.

  "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.

  Rad sighed, trying to shake off the bad mood that her comment had gotten him into. "I was going to ask you how you felt about adopting a D/s lifestyle, although I don't know how stringent I want to be about it."

  "D/s? That's Dominance and submission, right?"

  "Yes. It would mean
, effectively, that I would make rules for you that you would follow. And if you didn't follow them, I would punish you."

  "Spank me?"

  "Yes, although my hand may not be the only thing I use."

  She wasn't at all sure she liked the idea of that, but that wasn't what she questioned him about. "Hmm. What kinds of rules?"

  "Well, I like making rules that make sense to the both of us, in most cases. I'm not a cruel man, I don't think, and I'm not interested in just using it as an excuse to catch you out and spank you. And, frankly, if we decide to do this, and we both agree to that kind of relationship, it would be my prerogative to spank you whenever I want. I won't need a reason."

  She frowned darkly. "Hey, I don't think I like that idea at all!"

  Rad chuckled at that. "Oh, I think you might possibly get something out of it, even if not specifically at that moment." His hand delved between her legs, spreading his fingers such that he encouraged her to spread her legs so he could get to the delicious parts of her that he wanted access to. "Especially since you've become incredibly wet every time I've spanked you so far."

  She wasn't about to admit to him that he was right. And, although the spankings definitely did get her hot, one of the best things about them was the form aftercare often took with him—and even if it didn't. She loved how he comforted her while she cried it out in his arms. Sitting on his lap was her favorite place to be, especially when he was trying to make her feel better after he'd had to spank her.

  "That is a vicious rumor," she stated emphatically, trying not to writhe a he slipped those long fingers inside her, but failing miserably. Andrea couldn't tamp down her moans when he began to thrust them in and out of her, either. In fact, one hand grabbed for a couch cushion at the same time the other grabbed the lapel of his robe, clutching it spasmodically. "Rad," she whispered huskily.

  "Yes, baby?" he asked in a leisurely fashion, licking her small ear, then leaning his head against the side of hers as he continued to touch her in ways he knew would make her much wetter than she already was.