I gulped, scooting over to my side of the bench seat. I sat quietly as Garrett put the truck into drive, then made a smooth reentry onto the road.
We rode in silence. I took the time to process the wild mix of emotions that overwhelmed me. I was nervous, borderline scared, feeling guilty for my mistake. And I was turned on. By his power, his control, his concerns, and his kiss. And he loves me.
The gravel crunched under the tires as we made our way to his office. There was a single light shining by the door that led inside. Once the truck was in park, I continued to sit. Garrett left the truck, coming to my side and opening my door. I took a deep breath, unbuckling my safety belt. He reached out a hand to me and I grabbed it, grateful for the reassurance. Leaving the truck, he shut the door quietly behind me.
We entered the dark office and it instantly became familiar when he flipped on the light.
His arms were suddenly wrapped around me—tightly. His mouth was by my ear, whispering into my hair, “What do I do with naughty girls?”
My only response to his question was to mew like a kitten—the hold he had on me tightened as I heard the cat like noises I didn’t recognize as coming from me.
Reaching down the back of my jeans, his fingers wrapped tightly around the waistband of my panties. With one fell swoop, he tugged them up into the crack of my bottom, pulling the fabric tightly as it rubbed against my sensitive bottom hole.
I gasped, my head thrown back, as he pulled the panties even higher.
“I think it’s time we pulled these jeans off and punished your naughty, little bottom. Don’t you?
I groaned, I moaned, but I could not say yes.
His grasp locked on my waist. It felt tiny in the expanse of his huge hand. With it he turned me roughly until I was facing his desk. With his other hand still pulling on the waistband of my panties, he guided me until I was bent over the desk. The tightly drawn fabric chaffed at my bum hole.
Standing behind me, I could feel the hard lump of his cock straining against his jeans as it pushed against the crack in my ass.
Reaching around my waist, he lifted my stomach slightly from its press against the edge of the desk, unbuttoning my jeans. Zipper down, he tugged at the denim around my waist, pulling my jeans down to my knees. Leaning up against me, I could now feel his manhood’s presence against my thin panty clad bottom as his other hand continued pulling at the taut fabric.
Moving away from me, I moaned at the absence of his erection—even if it was only pressed against me through his jeans. All I wanted was him to thrust his cock deep within me, pumping hard, my hipbones banging against the wood of the desk. But I knew he would punish me first.
The anticipation of his paddle like hand slapping my bare skin had my tummy in knots. His hand went to the center of my back, pressing my torso against the desk. I gave up trying to hold my head up and lay my cheek against his desk—perfectly folded in half over the workspace of my boss.
Garrett had essentially given me the grown-up clit teasing version of a wedgie. The cool air tickled the bare skin of my ass cheeks as I held my breath against the strain that the fabric tightening in my crack was creating.
I gasped in shock as Garrett’s hand came underneath my bottom, cupping my sex over the damp fabric of my abused panties. His fingers strayed, slowly, lazily, on the fabric over my slit, then pressing hard on my clit. I moaned in anticipation, just before his presence disappeared.
“You tease,” I accused, my voice sounding dark and husky in my own ears.
“I do nothing of the sort. I punish.”
The mewing baby kitten sound was back and my faced burned with shame as I allowed my vocal chords to relay my darkest desires.
With a hard tug, I gasped and rose on my tippy toes as the strained material pulled against my sensitive cleft. His hand came down hard on the bare skin of my right ass cheek. I cried in surprise as its twin landed on the left. I was holding my breath now, the pain from the hard smacks seemed to empty my lungs.
The punishment began in earnest as smack after smack landed, the slapping sound echoing through the small office. He slapped my right side, left side, right side, left side, his hand mercilessly landing in the same exact spot on each side, every time.
“Oh, please stop, Garrett,” I begged.
“This is only the warm-up,” his deep voice promised. “I will see to it that you will be thoroughly punished for doing something so stupid, so reckless…” his angry voice trailed off. And I could tell he was trying to regain his composure, after allowing himself to become angry at my ridiculous misdeeds.
Shame covered me as the pain blinded me. He was in control, but he was angry, and I could feel his misgivings in every slap that landed on my burning skin. My ass had to be cherry red by this point.
“I’m going to give you ten with my belt, little lady. I want you sobbing and a wreck by the end of this punishment—knowing full well that you will never again in your life step foot into a bar.”
“Oh, I already do, I promise I have learned my lesson. Please don’t spank me with your belt,” I begged, my eyes filling with tears from pain and guilt.
“You need the discipline that only I can give you. Of that I am sure.” His hands leaving me, his words were punctuated by the sound of the metal latch of his belt being undone. I held my breath, my teeth clenched tightly together as the ‘whoosh’ of the leather of his belt being pulled through the loops of his jeans entered my ears.
“Please,” I begged once more.
“No.”
The doubled-up leather came down hard across the spot where the curve of my bottom met the tops of my thighs. My thoughts were cloudy, but I think I remembered Garrett once referring to that place as my ‘sit spots’. I gasped and screamed as the leather bit into my bare skin.
“Another.”
“No!”
But the leather hit again, digging in and blinding me with pain. He was not going to stop until I was crying. I knew that now. And I deserved it for the stunt I had pulled. Stupid me. How did I think this would end?
As I heard the leather ‘whooshing’ through the air, I cried before I felt the bite I knew was coming.
The belt landed and again the pain that was like white lightning entered my mind. From the spanked skin of my bottom to the now striped skin of the very tops of my bare thighs, I was a quivering, sobbing mess. I cried as I waited for the next whipping to fall, but it didn’t come.
Instead, in between the burning, stinging skin of my bottom, there was a curious, wandering hand. My legs spread further as I wiped away the tears from my eyes. Now, the lone fingertip slipped beneath the elastic of my panties, entering me and swirling in my wetness. It then left my dark cave and slowly, never leaving contact with my body, slid up my perineum. I held my breath but then inhaled sharply as that fingertip, moistened by the juices of my own sex, pushed past the clenched unwilling muscular circle of the forbidden hole in my bottom and entered that dark space.
Submission washed over me to my core as the tip of that finger entered up to what felt like one knuckle, then slipped back out, only to enter again. Essentially, my boss boyfriend continued to finger my bottom underneath my panties with his slow motions as I melted further and further into the submission that I believed he intended to draw from me.
“I want you,” I whispered and begged from my place upon his desk.
Withdrawing his finger, he asked, “Who’s in charge?” Then I heard the zipper of his jeans lowering.
“You, of course, sir. Only you.”
He spoke as he slowly pulled my wet panties down to meet my jeans. “That’s right, my darling girl. And if you don’t know that now, I’m going to show you.”
My throbbing pussy was dripping with the juices that he had drawn from me when his fingers were so smoothly going where no man had been before.
I pressed my torso into the desk, my face resting against the smooth grain of the wood, waiting, silently begging him to enter me.
Finally, I felt the tip of his hardened member at the entrance of my vagina. With one, hard, unforgiving push, he shoved his big, hard, cock inside of me.
I gasped as his hip bones dug into my bottom, the full size of his hardened cock filling me and pushing at my core. He pulled back, then again thrust against me, filling me with his rock-hard size until I thought I couldn’t stretch any more.
His hands wrapped around my hips, saving them from continuing to bang into the wooden desk.
My dripping pussy clenched around his member, my mind leaving my body as I practically blacked out from the ecstasy his plunging brought me.
Harder and faster he began to pump, holding me tightly and his hold bringing my punished bottom away, then back to slap against the tops of his thighs.
Harder and faster he went, stars filling my eyes and my mind becoming numb to everything that wasn’t the pulsating pounding of him.
Finally, my pussy clenched as tightly as possible around his member and I cried out, “Oh my fucking God, Garrett Love!”
Wanting to wash my own mouth out with soap, I lay panting and sweating over the up to date desk calendar, sure that the dampness of my torso would be smudging his neat lettering. My body was quivering and quaking in the aftermath of his loving.
I was surprised as I felt his chest laying over my limp back, his spent groin pressed into my waist. My face instinctively turned to his. His lips met mine, and laying over his desk, back to chest, we kissed. It was a slow, needy kiss that melted me to the core.
His hands found their way over the back of my neck into my hair. I lifted and twisted around, his body meeting mine. We stood at the side of his desk, our pants around our knees and made out like teenagers, exploring one another’s mouths.
When Garrett walked me to my door, I felt like I was floating. Now, I knew what people meant when they said they were on cloud nine. I wanted to sing at the top of my lungs, twirl in circles, scream his name out into the open space around me. I wanted to be Liesl in the Sound of Music, twirling through the gazebo all doe eyed over her man. No, that turned out horribly for her on second thought. What I really wanted was to be Mrs. Bella Love.
But I would take girlfriend of the boss for now.
Just as I was about to turn to Garrett, ready for his embrace, I saw a white piece of paper laying on the ground. Narrowing my eyes, I just made out the black letters of the title on the page. Eviction notice. Gulping, I realized it must have fallen from my front door while I was gone. I stepped over the paper quickly, hiding it under my boot. Just in the nick of time as Garrett wrapped his arms around me, his face burying into the delicate skin in the curve where my neck met my shoulder. Nibbling, kissing, my eyes closed, my back arched, my body melted into what felt like a pool of lava.
Any tension that had entered my body when I had read those dreaded two words—eviction notice—instantly melted away as Garrett Love kissed me with the passion of a man hungering for my love.
Eventually, we untangled ourselves from one another, him pulling away first stating very maturely that we needed to get some sleep, as he would be picking me up for work in just a few hours. Holding my foot firm on the piece of paper, I opened the front door.
“Why don’t you go inside?” he asked.
“I want to wave to you until I can’t see your truck anymore,” I said sweetly, batting my lashes.
Giving me a curious look, Garrett flashed me a smile, kissed me on the cheek and said, “Just until I get to the stop sign. Then I want you inside.”
“Okay,” I answered demurely.
Giving me one last what looked like a ‘I really don’t want to leave you right now’ look, Garrett climbed into his truck and pulled down the drive.
When he was at the stop sign, he waited. I assumed he was watching me in his rearview mirror, waiting for me to go inside. With a little wave, I stepped over my threshold, shutting the door. Peeking through my curtains I watched as his truck pulled down the dark road and out of sight. As soon as it was gone I flung the door open, picking up the letter that now had my boot print on top of it.
“Damn, damn, double damn,” I moaned as I read the words on the paper I had hidden from my boyfriend boss. “This document hereby informs the tenant, Bella Buchanan of 123 Peach Street that the tenant is in non-compliance with Article 2B of occupant’s lease that states rent is due by the fifteenth of each month…” I scanned the wordy legal jargon, getting to the bottom of the page, “The tenant has thirty days to pay all rent including late fees in full, or will be removed from the property and locks will be changed. All of tenant’s personal possessions must be removed from the property or risk being disposed of by property owner.”
Staring at the paper in my hands, my jaw remained dropped open, hanging like a cod fish. Had I forgotten to pay the rent for two whole months? How was that possible? The past month had been such a whirlwind with my new job and new boyfriend. Maybe I had missed a payment. I know last month I had skipped it all together, as I was desperately searching for a job and meant to pay it as soon as I received my first paycheck.
I went inside, closing the door softly behind me. Pulling out my old dinosaur of a laptop computer, I turned it on, listening to its soft hum and whir as it slowly came to life. “Come on,” I coaxed and wished while watching as the screen flickered to life. I signed myself into Mr. McAllister’s WIFI account, laughing at the password, Sweetie1, despite my dire situation. What felt like five full minutes later I had internet access and pulled up my bank account.
“Eight hundred dollars and twenty-eight cents. How can that be?” I mused. My first paycheck had been way more than that and Garrett had been picking up the tab for all my food. There was no gas bill to speak of as he was driving me everywhere I needed to go. Scrolling through the debits on the account, my heart beat faster at the piling angry red numbers of withdrawal. It looked like that month I was without a job I hadn’t kept a close eye on the account and had blown through my meager savings as well as accruing several overdraft fees. I wasn’t due to be paid again until next month and I owed double what was in my account within thirty days—plus the next month’s rent—or I was going to be kicked out.
Three months of rent. That was the total that would be due to my landlord, in thirty days, or I would no longer live at 123 Peach Street. The top of the laptop met the bottom and gave a final sounding click as I closed it, as if sealing my fate. I had no choice. I would have to ask Garrett for the money. A loan. And to continue picking me up and dropping me off every day as there was no way I was going to be able to afford to fix up old Bessie anytime soon.
Snuggling up into a tight ball, I pulled the old patchwork quilt I kept on the back of the couch over my body and closed my eyes, falling into a troubled sleep.
The familiar honk woke me up what felt like minutes later, but judging by the sun peering through my window, hours had past.
Throwing back the quilt, I looked over my outfit. The jeans were freshly washed and only worn once. I had blown out my hair out yesterday. I figured I could swap out my shirt for a fresh one, throw my hair in a ponytail, pop a piece of gum in my mouth and be out the door before Garrett suspected my late wake-up.
As I hurried through my plan, then grabbed the knob of the door, I just hoped to goodness I would be on my best behavior today and not risk getting spanked, as I realized there was no way I wanted anyone, much less Garrett to get a peek at yesterday’s dirty undies that I was still wearing.
Chapter 5
Bella
The days flew by. With the new donations flowing in from Hopeful Hearts day, the program had doubled in size. All but three of the families on the wait list had been accommodated. I was practically running from place to place throughout the day as was Garrett and the other employees. We stopped for a quick lunch in Carrie’s kitchen where I wolfed down whatever food she was serving—to Garrett’s extreme pleasure— then it was back to the barn for afternoon chores.
The nights found Garrett and me wrapped i
n one another’s arms. Parting was such sweet sorrow as Juliet would say. Each night when he left my house I hated to see him leave but loved knowing he would be back again with the sunrise.
My days became steady. Filled with routine, healthy food, discipline, and love. The week flew by and it wasn’t until two weeks after I had received the eviction notice that I realized I had never asked Garrett for the rent money. I assured myself that all would be well. I would ask him for the loan next week. Then I would pay him back as soon as I received my monthly wages. I would have to live very frugally until I was paid again. But at least I would have my house.
Every day at work it felt like the wrong place and time to ask. And every night, wrapped in one another’s sweaty arms felt like even worse timing. I pushed the eviction notice and overdue rent from my mind, losing myself in daily demanding work and nightly—hard loving.
The evening Garrett dropped me off on my front stoop, and I put my key into the lock and it didn’t fit, at first, I didn’t understand. Stubbornly, I tried the key again. Nothing. No budge at all. I looked to the truck, Garrett’s face waiting patiently for me to go inside.
“I forgot—I promised I’d visit Mr. McAllister tonight!” I called cheerfully.
Calling ‘goodnight and I love you’s’, Garrett rolled up his window, watching as I made my way over the grass to the house next door to mine.
I knocked, smiling brightly over my shoulder as Garrett watched me. Once the door opened and he saw Mr. McAllister, Garrett gave a wave and drove off into the night.
“Whatcha doin’, girlie?” Mr. McAllister grinned, chomping on what looked like a ham and cheese sandwich hanging limply in his hand.
“I got locked out of my house,” I said, figuring it was as much the truth as anything. “I just need to borrow a ladder to get into that back window with the broken lock.”
I had, in fact, locked myself out last year and done this very thing to crawl into the back-storage closet with the broken window latch.
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