by Maren Smith
Chad brought them another round of shots while they were dancing, and soon after Izzy felt a familiar pressure in her abdomen. “I have to pee!” she yelled over the music.
Nodding, Mari led the way to the small women’s bathroom off the side of the bar. They each stumbled into a stall, giggling the entire way.
“Hey, Mari. Wanna see my ass?”
“Why would I want to see your ass?”
“To see the lines on it, duh!”
“Oh, yes!”
They stumbled back out of their stalls, and Izzy lifted the hem of her dress. Running her fingers over the raised welts, Mari let out a whistle. “Damn, girl. The sheriff did a number on you. And are those bruises?”
“Huh?” Twisting around, Izzy squinted to get a good look at her butt in the mirror. “Maybe. He really whaled on me last night.”
Mari snorted, but before she could respond, the door to the bathroom swung open and a pair of drunk college girls tumbled inside. Izzy yanked her dress down, more to hide the damage than out of any sense of propriety. She might have lost her modesty, but she knew for a fact Daddy Ethan would skin her alive if other people found out about the marks he’d left on her.
Still giggling, she and Mari managed to wash their hands and make their way back to the bar. Unfortunately for them, Jake spotted them and it didn’t take long for him to figure out they’d broken his two-drinks-per-hour rule.
“Uh-oh,” Mari mumbled.
“Uh-oh is right, little girl. You are in so much trouble.” Taking each of them by the arm, he guided them to a recently vacated booth. “Sit. Do not move until I come get you.”
“Somebody’s gettin’ a spankin’,” Izzy sing-songed when he’d disappeared into the back.
Scowling, Mari flopped back against the bench. “Your sexy sheriff isn’t gonna be happy with you, either.”
There was an interesting point. Would Ethan be mad? He’d never said anything about a drink limit. But Jake had always insisted that not drinking too much in public was a matter of safety.
Fuck. Maybe she was in trouble.
“Aw, man.”
Reaching across the table, Mari patted her hand. “It’s okay, sis. You’ll survive.”
But when she looked up and saw Sheriff Daddy pushing his way through the crowd toward her, she wasn’t so sure.
“Ladies,” he greeted them. “I’ve been told you need an escort home.”
“We need Jake to stop being such a stick in the mud. Arrest him!” With a sudden, uncontrollable bout of giggles, Izzy pointed across the room to where Jake was glowering at them from the bar.
To her surprise, Ethan laughed. “Come on, brat. Let’s get you girls home.”
“Aww, man. I wanna stay.” But she let him pull her out of the booth along with Mari, the pair of them following along behind him like obedient little puppies. The thought brought to mind his question about leashes and she snorted.
“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Opening the back door of his cruiser, Ethan lifted an eyebrow at her.
“I was thinking about leashes and puppies,” she replied with what she hoped was a saucy wink.
Her response earned her a loud, booming laugh before he nudged her and Mari into the backseat.
When he climbed into the driver’s seat, she leaned forward as far as the thick metal mesh would allow. “Daddy, am I in trouble?”
“That depends, baby girl. Did you break a rule?”
“Well, I broke one of Jake’s rules.”
“Jake’s rules aren’t my rules. Which rule did you break?”
“His stupid two drinks per hour rule. He doesn’t like for us to get drunk at the bar.”
“That’s something we can discuss. But as it’s not a rule I already have in place for you, no, you’re not in trouble.”
“Yay! Next question.”
“Yes?”
“Are you still gonna fuck me tonight?”
“Izzy!” Mari covered her face with her hands. “You are impossible!”
“What? This is important information!”
“I think you’d be better served by a good night’s sleep, baby girl.” Chuckling, he turned the cruiser into their driveway. “We have plenty of time for, ah, other things later.”
“Meanie.”
“Down to my bones,” he agreed cheerfully.
He helped them into the house and after making sure Mari was comfortably tucked into bed with no risk of being sick, he scooped Izzy up and carried her down the hall to her room. Instead of tucking her in fully clothed as he had with Mari, he tugged her dress up and over her head and helped her out of her panties.
“Is your bottom sore, brat?”
“Uh huh. It has pretty red marks and bruises.”
“There’s a faint little bruise right here.” He poked a particularly tender spot, making her yelp. “But nothing too bad. And the lines should fade by tomorrow. Let’s get that plug out of you and get you to bed.”
“Plug?” She wrinkled her nose and tried to focus on what his words actually meant. “Oh, yeah! That thing.”
Half an hour later, she was plug free and snuggled in bed with Ethan’s chest as her pillow.
“Do me a favor.” Her words were slightly muffled by her yawn.
“What’s that?”
“If this is a dream, don’t wake me up. I’ll never forgive you.”
“Go to sleep, brat. I’ll still be here in the morning.”
As promised, he was still sprawled on the bed next to her, snoring like a freight train when she woke the next morning. Her head felt a little heavy, but it wasn’t the worst hangover she’d had, so she decided to take advantage of his unconscious state.
Sliding under the covers, she discovered that one part of his anatomy was mostly awake. And all it took was a couple flicks of her tongue for it to stand at attention. Delighted by the reaction, she took the head into her mouth and sucked, hard.
“Jesus!”
Beneath her, his body jerked, and a hand came up to fist in her hair. “Come here.”
Ignoring the growled order, she continued rolling her tongue over the sensitive tip, until he gripped her by the arms and pulled her up to straddle him.
“Brat. What have I told you about following orders?”
She pouted down at him. “But I was having fun.”
“Well now you can have fun riding my cock without coming.”
“You wouldn’t!”
A heavy swat caught her by surprise. She jumped at the unexpected sting.
“Ride, brat. Before I decide to fuck that pretty little bottom of yours instead.”
Because that sounded far worse than no orgasms, she shifted and lowered herself onto him. In this position, he stretched her and filled her in ways he hadn’t before, and she let her head fall back on a moan.
Another heavy swat reminded her she was supposed to be moving. Shooting him a glare, she lifted her hips and rolled, riding his cock just as he’d ordered.
“Good girl.” Moving his hand between them, he pressed his thumb to her clit, lightly stroking as she rode, sending little shockwaves of pleasure to her core with each movement. But just when she felt that familiar tightening inside of her, telling her she was right there at the edge, he pulled his hand away.
“Daddy,” she whined. “I wanna come!”
“No. Naughty brats who don’t follow instructions don’t get rewards.”
“I just wanted to make you feel good, I didn’t mean to be a brat. Please, Daddy.”
“Hmm.” Eyes half closed, with an evil smirk playing at his lips, he moved his hand back to her clit. “Beg some more and I might change my mind.”
Before she’d let Ethan Clarke touch her, she’d never begged a man for anything. Certainly not pleasure. They either gave it, or they didn’t. And yet, with him, it seemed as natural as breathing. “Please, Daddy. I need to come so bad. Please.”
“I’m not quite convinced, brat.”
With every stroke of his t
humb across her clit, the pressure built, until she let out a sob of frustration. “Daddy! Please!”
“Please, what?”
All she could manage was a low whine.
“Use your words, brat. Tell Daddy what you want.”
“I wanna come, Daddy, please, please let me come!”
“Fuck, I love the way you beg. Come for me, brat.”
The order, combined with the added pressure to her clit, sent her flying over the edge he’d kept her teetering on for so long. When she collapsed on top of him, panting and whimpering, he flipped her onto her back and drove into her all in one swift move.
“Mine,” he growled.
Arching into him, she smiled. “Finally. Took you long enough.”
With another growl, he sank his teeth into the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder. The flash of pain was all she needed to send another molten wave of pleasure crashing over her. This time, she took him with her, and they collapsed onto the bed together in a sweaty, gasping tangle of limbs.
“You might be the death of me, brat.”
“But what a way to go, huh?”
Laughing, he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. “No complaints here.”
“I can’t believe you bit me.” She hissed when she prodded the mark. “That shit hurt.”
“What can I say? I like seeing my mark on you. All over you.”
Pounding on the front door interrupted her smart-ass reply. “Who the hell could that be this early on a Sunday?”
“Probably somebody with a noise complaint about the screaming.”
“Oh hush. I wasn’t that loud.”
“Were too. And I bet I can make you scream even louder.”
“Bet you can’t.”
With mischief sparking in his eyes, he lunged for her and dug his fingers into her side. The move shocked a scream out of her, and then a squeal as she dissolved into laughter.
“Get off of her, Sheriff!”
All movement stopped as they both turned to find a deputy in the doorway, his shaking service weapon trained on Ethan.
Lifting his hands above his head, Ethan slowly backed away from her. “What’s going on, Johnson?”
“You just step away from Ms. Izzy, Sheriff. Nice and slow.”
“Bobby Joe, what the hell are you doing?” Completely forgetting that she was stark naked with Ethan’s cum dripping down her thigh, Izzy rolled off the bed and planted her fists on her hips. “Put that gun away before you hurt someone!”
“I’m not the one hurting people, Iz. We had an anonymous tip that the Sheriff here beat you.”
The room spun around her. The edges of her vision went dark. “What?”
“Yeah. Said if we check, we’ll find bruises. And Jesus Christ, is that a bite mark?”
“Look, Bobby, this is just a huge misunderstanding.” Frantically playing the night before in her mind, she tried to think of how this could have happened. “The bathroom!”
“What?” Ethan asked, not taking his eyes off his deputy.
She turned to explain, but she was cut off by the shocked gasp from behind her. “Izzy, what did he do to you?”
From the hallway, Jake spoke up in what Izzy thought of as his trying-to-stop-a-bar-fight voice. “Deputy Johnson, if you could just put the gun down, I think we can explain everything.”
“Explain what? Look at her, Jake!”
Exasperated, she turned back to the doorway. “Bobby, you absolute walnut. He didn’t beat me. We were having sex!”
The room fell silent at her declaration. Deputy Johnson’s face paled, then turned an alarming shade of red. “Sex?” he squeaked out, lowering his gun slightly.
“Yes, Bobby. You see, when two people like each other…”
“That’s enough, Isabella,” Ethan snapped. “Deputy, if you’ll give me a few minutes to get dressed, we can hopefully clear this up without making a scene.”
It seemed to Izzy the “not making a scene” ship had sailed, but she kept her mouth shut until Bobby and Jake had closed the door behind them. As soon as it clicked shut, she whirled on Ethan, but the ice-cold fury in his eyes stopped her in her tracks.
“Who did you tell, Isabella?”
“Nobody, I swear!”
“Really?” With a disbelieving snort, he bent and snatched up his khakis and shoved his legs into them. “If you didn’t tell anyone, then how the hell did this happen?”
“I just told Mari, I promise! But we were —”
“You know,” he rolled right over her like she hadn’t even spoken. “I always knew you had a mouth on you. But I never figured you were such a bald-faced liar.” With his shirt and pants on, he gathered the rest of his gear and rounded the bed, cornering her between the dresser and wall. “We’re going to go downstairs and get this sorted out. After that, we’re done. I knew this was a mistake.”
“W-what?” Tears blurred her vision and for a moment she couldn’t breathe past the pressure in her chest. “You’re dumping me? Because of one little fuck up?”
“I’m dumping you because I can’t trust you.”
She almost wished he’d just hit her. A bare-knuckled punch to the face would have hurt less than his words. “Ethan, please.”
“Get dressed, Isabella. I’ll meet you downstairs.” Turning his back on her, he yanked open the bedroom door.
“Ethan! Ethan, come back here.” A sob burst out of her when he kept walking. “Daddy!”
Chapter Seven
“What the hell is going on?” Pale-faced and wide-eyed, Marisa stood in the doorway as Izzy frantically pulled her dress from the night before over her head.
“Somebody heard us. Last night, at the bar.”
“Heard what, Iz?”
“In the bathroom, Mari! When I was showing you the marks on my ass!” That had to have been where the complaint came from. It was the only thing that made any fucking sense. Without bothering with underwear, she pushed past her sister and ran down the stairs. Ethan was standing in the middle of the room with a much more relaxed looking deputy and a frowning Jake.
“Ethan, will you please just talk to me?”
The eyes that met hers weren’t the playful, teasing eyes she’d seen over the past two days. Or even the stern, disapproving ones she’d been seeing practically her whole life. These eyes were cold, empty, and she felt the chill straight to her bones.
Dismissing her without a word, Ethan focused his attention back on the deputy. “Bobby, I think if you talk to Ms. Taylor, you’ll find nothing to back up any claims of violence or abuse on my part.”
“Of course not! Look, Bobby, we just…” Oh, sweet Jesus, could this possibly be any more humiliating? “It just got a little, ah, rough, okay? You know Ethan, you know the kind of man he is. I swear everything that happened between us was a hundred percent consensual.”
“Jeez, you guys.” Looking about as comfortable as a hen in a room full of foxes, Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about all this. But you know I had to look into it, Sheriff. And what about all those bruises and stuff Izzy has? Some might call that reasonable cause.”
Cheeks on fire, Izzy forced herself to speak up. “He didn’t beat me, Bobby. He just – oh, God. He spanked, me, okay? Plenty of people enjoy being spanked, and I happen to be one of them.”
“Oh.” Bobby’s face turned as red as hers felt. “Well, that puts things in a different light.”
Ethan cleared his throat, drawing Bobby’s attention back to him. “Am I free to go, deputy?”
“Ah, yeah. I suppose.”
“Thank you.” Turning on his heel, Ethan strode to the front door.
Izzy moved to intercept him, but Jake stopped her. In his eyes, she saw some of the same coldness she’d seen in Ethan’s, but it was tempered by a smidge of sympathy. “Let him go, Iz. Give him some time to be pissed and get over the hurt a little bit, and then you can talk to him.”
“Jake, I swear I didn’t mean for anybody to find out. You
believe me, right?”
“I believe you, sweetheart. But that’s not really the point, now is it?”
Sick to her stomach, Izzy pulled herself from his embrace and raced back up the stairs. She locked herself in her room, and that was where she stayed the rest of the day. Even Mari couldn’t coax her out. The only person she wanted to talk to was Ethan, but the few times she tried calling him, the calls when straight to his voicemail and all of her texts went unanswered.
Chapter Eight
One week. One week since he’d touched or even seen his brat. Scowling at his own thoughts, Ethan pressed the button to start the coffee maker before stalking to the front door to get the Sunday paper. It was infuriating that even in his own mind he still considered her his, after everything that had happened. That he still ached for her, even after her recklessness had almost cost him everything.
Yanking the front door open, he stopped short when he found Mari on the other side, her fist raised like she’d been about to knock.
“Um, hi,” she whispered, glancing around nervously. “Can I come in?”
The temptation to slam the door in her face was strong, but he willed it back and allowed her to step inside. Closing the door behind her, he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at her.
“Why are you here, Mari?”
“I just wanted to talk to you. About Izzy.”
“That’s between her and me, Marisa.”
It was almost cute the way she flinched at the use of her full name. He’d spent enough time with her and Jake to know she was used to only hearing it when she was pushing her luck about something. But he wasn’t really in the mood to find much of anything cute.
“I know, I just wanted to see if I could clear some things up. About what happened last weekend.”
“There’s nothing to clear up. I asked her to keep our private life private and she didn’t. End of story.”
“It’s not that simple. Ethan, I swear to you, the only person she talked to was me. I was with her the entire night, other than when she was with you.”