The Last Match

by Stevie MacFarlane

“I don't want to miss a minute. I never know when I’ll get another opportunity to see this,” she sighed.

  “Plan on seeing it every day of your life, baby,” Marcus said smiling. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about marrying me, which better never happen,” he growled, nuzzling her neck.

  “Marcus, can I ask you something?”

  “Yes, you may,” he replied, grunting when she elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Are you sure you want to get married?” she asked quietly.

  “Of course I am,” he replied, stunned. “Why would you think any differently?”

  “I don't know. I’m just wondering if you got swept up in the whole ‘romance of Vegas’ thing? There are days we only see each other at meal time and sometimes you even eat in your office. I was just wondering if now that we’re back in New York, you’ve come to your senses. Am I truly everything you need?”

  “Honey, you’re perfect. I think I fell in love with you the moment you fell through that bookstore door and opened your sassy little mouth. As far as Vegas, that was just where we were when I realized I couldn’t live without you. I’m sorry I spend so much time working, and I promise as soon as this book tour is over, I’m going to take a break.”

  Susan snorted. “Marcus you’re a workaholic; you need to face it. You're lucky you can take a break to go to bed and I am in that bed,” she told him grumpily. “What do you mean by a break anyway? Are you going to take a day off, a week off?”

  “I'm going to take enough time off that you will be begging me to go back to work. I'm going to spank you and make love to you and spank you again for good measure,” he teased.

  “That's not funny, Marcus. I been very good… have I been too good?”

  “Red, I’m not sure that’s possible,” he said.

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” she stated sulkily. “I’ve done every single thing you asked me to, including giving up junk food.”

  Marcus laughed. “You haven't given up junk food; you’ve just gotten very good at hiding it. Do you think for one minute I can't smell the Cheetos on your breath when you get a chance to sneak some? The other day when I picked up your jacket, a whole handful of tiny silver wrappers fell out of the pocket and we both know where they came from.”

  “Well I've cut back on my drinking,” she stated. “And I haven't worn high heels in weeks.”

  “That's true; I'll give you that, at least until I find out differently. I'm just wondering how long it will last. After all, you're going to be here unsupervised and I can't help worrying about what kind of trouble you might get into.”

  “Marcus, I swear you act like I'm a teenager sometimes.”

  “And sometimes you act younger than a teenager,” he said, calmly taking a drink of his coffee.

  Susan clamped her lips together; there was no way she was going to be drawn into an argument with him that she couldn’t win. She knew her weaknesses and her faults and she knew in some ways he was right, but she felt she’d changed since coming to the Lodge. She took her responsibilities seriously and made sure their home was in immaculate condition. Other than ruining a few of his shirts and occasionally making an inedible meal, she was proud of herself. Never in her life had she managed to keep a job, any job, more than three months until now. It's not exactly a job anymore, her little voice whispered. Caring for Marcus was no hardship and in fact was quickly becoming a way of life. She loved him.

  It occurred to her that he might be getting bored with her. She herself was getting pretty damn sick of quickies in the dark despite the fact that he always made sure she climaxed. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t spanked her in a while.

  “If you knew about the Cheetos and the Kisses, how come you didn’t spank me?” she asked curiously. “Is that no longer interesting to you?”

  “Honey, you sound disappointed. In fact it almost sounds as though you're asking for a spanking, and if that's the case, I'd be more than happy to oblige.”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” she snorted, “like that would ever happen. I'm just curious.”

  “As it happens, I've been thinking about the same thing, and I wonder if maybe we shouldn't set up regularly scheduled spankings for you,” he said seriously.

  “You've got to be kidding,” she gasped, sitting up straighter and shaking his arm off her shoulder.

  “Not at all. Apparently I've been neglecting you, so from now on, I think you should present yourself in my office each night for a good spanking before you go to bed. That way, you won't have to worry that I don't find you interesting anymore, and let's just say, I'm sure I'll be coming to bed earlier,” he grinned.

  “What about your writing?” she asked sarcastically.

  “It can wait,” he stated firmly.

  “Marcus, I think that's an absolutely absurd idea. I can't believe even you would think of such a thing.”

  “You see that mountain over there?” he asked, pointing in the distance. “If you could spend five minutes in my head, where I’m thinking of all the things I want to do to you and with you, you’d be climbing over that mountain right now just to get away from me. I think it's an excellent idea,” he said, setting down his cup and rubbing his hands together, grinning in anticipation.

  “Well,” Susan said, getting up from the chase. “You can just forget it because that's not happening. I'm going to make breakfast. Maybe a good meal will bring you to your senses.”

  “Don't count on it, Red. I'm already looking forward to it, and if you know what's good for you, you'll be in my office before bed tonight.”

  “Yeah, well I do know what's good for me, and that's not it,” she shot back over her shoulder as she stomped toward the house.

  “Keep it up, baby, and you might find yourself in that position well before nightfall,” he laughed, following her into the kitchen. “We can always make it morning and evening you know,” he teased, sliding his arms around her and kissing her neck.

  “Oh, why don't you just go find something to do? I'll call you when breakfast is ready,” she told him, squirming free.

  Marcus gave her a hearty slap on her butt as he left the kitchen whistling.

  Good grief, she thought while cracking eggs into a bowl, why the hell did I even mention it?

  They’d officially met through Sugar Babies, an exclusive match-making agency for men of somewhat discriminating tastes. It wasn’t an organization Susan had ever heard of, and had she not run into the owner, Sam Barringer, on her bike while making a delivery for the messenger service she worked for, she probably wouldn’t know about it now. That day, she’d taken a hell of a spill, and after Sam helped her up and stemmed the bleeding from her elbow, he’d given her his card.

  At first Susan had scoffed, sticking the card in her pocket just to pacify Sam, but a few days later when her temper got the best of her and she told her boss where he could stick his job, desperation reared its ugly head. Days away from being homeless, flat broke and having already hocked everything of value she had, she made the call.

  Her life changed dramatically; within hours, she found herself ensconced in a beautiful hotel, sharing a suite with Kelsey Reed, another one of Sam’s prospective matches. Kelsey was young, insecure and in an even more unstable situation than Susan, and Susan quickly found herself in protective big sister mode. Becoming best friends, they would be eternally grateful they’d been matched with twin brothers Ty and Marcus McCarthy.

  Marcus was a bestselling author with a fetish for spanking naughty female bottoms, and Ty was a compassionate veterinarian, a perfect companion for the shy, inexperienced Kelsey. Susan’s and Marcus’s relationship was a little more complicated.

  With a temper to match her flaming red hair, Susan provided Marcus plenty of justifiable opportunities to change the color of her butt from cream to crimson, which delighted him. In his opinion, the allowance he deposited in her account once a month was a bargain and well worth the price to have her in his arms and in his bed every night. That Sus
an soon came to love his dominant nature and unfettered sexual desires was a bonus in his mind, and a cross to bear in hers.

  Now that Ty and Kelsey had gotten married during a whirlwind trip to Vegas and Marcus and Susan were engaged, everything seemed to be settled. Once she admitted her love for him and accepted his proposal, things cooled off, at least it seemed that way to Susan.

  Marcus was busy writing and getting ready for a book tour while Susan was full of doubts. Not a woman who was used to being ignored, she wondered whether, now that the thrill of the chase was over, he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t exactly the easiest woman in the world to get along with, but in the beginning, that seemed to amuse Marcus. The last thing he wanted was a perfectly behaved girl who would make him feel like a heel for indulging his favorite pastime. It was much more fun spanking someone who truly deserved it, and Susan usually gave him reasons on a daily basis.

  This was a concern to Susan. As much as she bitched and fussed each and every time he pulled her over his knee, the sex afterward was incredible. Now that he hadn’t spanked her in quite a while, she found she was missing the attention. A fucked-up situation if she’d ever seen one, she thought as she scrambled egg whites for an omelet. Normally Susan didn’t have to look too far for trouble; it found her. If she had to deliberately do something outrageous over and over, it would get old, not to mention exhausting. Slapping his breakfast onto a plate, she fumed. She had too much to do to waste time trying to get a rise out of a man who was buried in his work. Besides, the rise she wanted should be achievable with a few minutes in the bedroom or on his lap, preferably sitting upright.

  “Marcus,” she yelled from the kitchen, “your eggs are ready.”

  Marcus entered the kitchen and sat at the table, picking up his napkin. He watched as she made as much noise as possible, tossing dishes and utensils into the sink. She scrubbed at the countertop like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks, puffing the hair off her forehead. One thing about his Red, when she was in a bad mood, everybody knew it.

  “Aren’t you eating?” he asked.

  “I’m not hungry,” she snapped back, doing her best to ignore him.

  “Red, I suggest you spit out whatever’s stuck in your craw,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

  “There’s nothing stuck in me, anywhere,” she replied, beginning to load the dishwasher.

  “Then what is it? You’ve been acting strangely for days.”

  “Maybe I’m just strange,” she suggested sarcastically. “In fact, I think you’ve hit the nail right on the head,” she snapped, tossing down her cloth and stomping out of the kitchen.

  “Come back here,” he ordered, getting to his feet.

  “Kiss my ass,” she called over her shoulder as she ran for the stairs.

  He was on her in seconds, his long legs eating up the distance despite her head start. Taking her firmly by the arm, he escorted her back to the kitchen, pulled out a chair and sat her down.

  His eyes dared her to get up as he took his seat, and she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

  “You have until I finish eating to tell me what your problem is,” he informed her, taking a bite of his omelet.

  “Or what?” she demanded.

  “Or I will get a wooden spoon out of the drawer, flip you over the breakfast bar and proceed to decorate your pristine ass with dozens of lovely red ovals,” he promised.

  Susan blanched. She counted a wooden spoon in the top three of her least favorite implements of discipline, just under a switch and her heavy wooden hairbrush. Looking out the glass door at the lake, she managed to keep one eye on Marcus’s progress, jumping up as soon as he was finished and reaching for his plate.

  “I’m waiting, but my patience is wearing thin, Red,” he said, wiping his mouth before snagging her wrist and pulling her onto his lap. “You’ve got a pissy attitude, and I want to know why. I can spank it out of you, but I’d prefer to know what I’m up against.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she sulked. “I’m antsy and irritated, that’s all. Just let me be; I’ll work it out by myself.”

  “That’s not acceptable,” he replied. “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life playing guessing games with you every time you’re in a bad mood. Now, you can either talk to me or we’ll try a different approach, your choice,” he warned.

  Damn, she’d wanted a little attention and now that she had it, she wished she could start the whole day over. What was she supposed to say, ‘when you don’t spank me or pay attention to my behavior I feel like you don’t love me?’ She’d sooner super-glue her own lips together!

  Or, ‘I feel like I have to protest when you say you’re going to spank me or you’ll lose interest?’ Not hardly. She’d sound like a blooming idiot, and besides that, when she really, really didn’t want a spanking, he’d never believe her again, always thinking she was just playing the game.

  Marcus sighed and shook his head in wonder. Standing with her in his arms, he walked to the breakfast bar, where he plopped her down. Holding her with one hand, he yanked open a drawer, removing a wide-bowled wooden spoon. It seemed ridiculously effortless for him to flip her over on her tummy and yank down her baggy pajama pants, baring her bottom. The cold granite had her arching away from it, giving him a perfect target, and he took advantage without a word.

  “Any time you’re ready to talk,” he offered, bringing the spoon down with a snap of his wrist. Power wasn’t necessary in this circumstance. The bright red oval appeared instantly as she let out a howl. She wiggled and squirmed as each consecutive smack landed on a different spot and he methodically worked his way across her ass. Several times she screamed, ‘wait, wait, wait,’ yet each time he paused, she kept her lips firmly together as tears ran down her face.

  “You are so stubborn,” he scolded. “Talk to me, Red.”

  But she didn’t and he carried on until she was sobbing and there wasn’t a white area left to spank.

  “Round two?” he asked, amazed.

  “No, no, please,” she managed to get out between hiccups. “I’ll tell you,” she cried.

  Marcus scooped her up and carried her to the big leather sofa in the great room, holding her in his arms as she soaked his shirt with her tears. He kissed her hair, her cheeks and her eyelids, tasting the salty moisture. It was several minutes before she was able to blow her nose on the tissues he handed her, and she kept her face buried in his neck as she began to speak.

  Susan was painfully honest. She told him she was lonely and felt he spent a good deal of time ignoring her. When he interrupted, she placed her fingers over his lips and he shut up. It was painful to tell him that she needed more, more sex, more spanking and just more of him in general. Telling him that she didn’t feel loved when he ignored her poor behavior almost choked her, but she’d come this far, so what was the point of holding anything back? If he decided that she was too much trouble or too needy, it would be best if she found out now. She needed more to occupy her time than taking care of his house and spending a little time with Kelsey each week. It was driving her crazy, and although she enjoyed the solitude of the lodge, she enjoyed it because they were alone, not because she wanted to be alone all the time.

  Marcus listened patiently, rubbing her back, his cheek resting on her head as she poured out her heart to him.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered. “You’ve always seemed so independent; I guess I just thought you were fine on your own. I know it’s a busy time for me right now, but I promise I’ll do better in the future. Just let me get through this tour, and when I get home we’ll work out a schedule so that I’m working during specific times instead of all these crazy hours.”

  “Okay,” she sniffed, hugging him.

  Marcus smiled as he gently pulled her arms from around his neck and sat her up. Kissing her, he brushed the last of her tears away before laying her over his lap.

  “What…what are you doing?” she squeaked, peering over her sho
ulder.

  “I’m spanking you,” he replied, rubbing her bottom.

  “Why? I just spilled my guts to you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” she demanded, trying to scoot away.

  “It is, but I would have preferred you’d been honest with me from the beginning,” he scolded, bringing his hand down with a sharp slap. “I shouldn’t have to pry it out of you or blister you with a wooden spoon to get you to tell me how you’re feeling,” he continued, smacking away as she squirmed.

  “I love you, Red, with all my heart and I’m going to be your husband. One way or another you’re going to learn to share your feelings with me. I refuse to let secrets and misunderstandings drive a wedge between us. Is that clear?” he asked grimly as he moved from her flaming bottom to the back of her thighs.

  “Yes,” she screamed.

  “Are you going to be more forthcoming in the future?”

  “Yes, Marcus, I swear,” she cried, trying to cover her bottom with her hand and finding it caught in his firm grasp.

  “Before you become impossibly bad-tempered?”

  “Oh, yes, please believe me,” she pleaded, her bottom on fire.

  “Alright then,” he replied. “Ten more to reinforce my feelings about this kind of thing,” he said as he spanked the fullest part of her bottom five times on each side, in exactly the same spot.

  Susan was sobbing as he helped her stand and picked her up.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked worriedly.

  “Upstairs, darling, to deal with another one of your complaints and to take care of something that started by having your pretty ass over my lap and is quickly becoming most uncomfortable,” he smiled.

  “I’m pretty sure I win the uncomfortable contest,” she sobbed into his neck.

  “I imagine you do, Red. Remember it the next time you think about hiding your feelings from me,” he growled, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Chapter Three

  John Braden looked at the engraved invitation that had been delivered by messenger and smiled.