Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  Kelly often felt let down after the holidays. Lonely. Jim reported back to work today after a week off. Despite his occasional bossiness, she'd loved having him around so much, a part of her struggled not to beg him to stay with her for one more day at least. However, Kelly understood how important being a detective was to Jim, so she did her best not to cling like a homesick child when he dressed for work.

  He'd given her a deep kiss with the promise of later, then telling her he should be home by six, he left the house around 8 AM. She was expecting him to walk through the door at any moment when the phone rang.

  "Sorry, darlin', but looks like I won't be getting' back until late. Don't wait up. You need your rest."

  She reflexively rubbed her slightly rounded stomach, still amazed by the thought of a little person growing inside her. "I want to wait up for you," she argued, certain as soon as the sentence edged past her lips she'd be out-voted.

  "No. And that's your Dom talkin', not your husband. Disobey me, and there will be consequences, my lovely."

  Her mouth curved in a half-smile despite the small twinge of reminder those words brought. "What sort of consequences?" she asked, lowering her voice to a silky purr.

  He paused for a moment, then growled, "Most painful ones, I promise you." The vow was delivered in a deeper register, which created a flutter in Kelly's lower region. "Seems to me you'd recall what happens when you don't heed your Dom's instructions properly. And I'm worried about you. You've been tossin' and turnin' more than usual the past couple of nights, so I want you in bed early tonight. What're you plannin' for dinner?"

  Since Jim normally did the cooking for them, and Kelly didn't like eating alone, she shrugged. Realizing he wouldn't appreciate the gesture if he'd seen it, she added, "I don't have much of an appetite, so maybe some tea and toast."

  "Tea and toast's not dinner, Kelly. It's a snack. We've got leftover chicken in the fridge. Make yourself a sandwich at least."

  "Okay."

  "After you eat, you may watch TV or listen to music, but from bed, not the livin' room. Lights out no later than nine, young lady. Hear me?"

  "Yes, Sir," she answered quietly. Despite the small thrill his dominant stance aroused within her, his absence left an aching void. And sometimes listening and obeying were two entirely different things.

  "That's the response I wanted. I gotta go. You sure you're all right, darlin'? You're soundin' a bit off."

  "I'm fine. I just miss you."

  "Miss you, too. Now, fix yourself a sandwich, and get into bed. That's an order."

  "Yes, Sir," she groused with a smile. He worried about her, but she was too restless to lie down. She needed to do something. Something productive. Something Jim would appreciate after he gave it some thought, even if he didn't see the benefit short-term.

  "Good girl. Night, darlin'."

  "Night." As she hung up the phone, she looked around her. Their Christmas tree decorations sparkled back at her with merry insouciance. She could make a start by putting them away. She'd dressed for it, at least. Though hardly sexy, her pink sweats were utilitarian.

  She sized up the task in her mind. As pretty as they were, no seasonal adornments should stay out all year, and Jim's police work often had irregular hours. She checked her watch. Six o'clock. He didn't say she couldn't do other things before she went to bed. Besides, as long as she was lying down when he got home; he wouldn't know the difference. It's not like he had her monitored.

  Uneasy with the thought, Kelly glanced about the room. The man was a detective, so installing a hidden camera would be child's play for him, but such tactics reflected a lack of trust, and Jim trusted her. Finally. She'd almost destroyed that fragile bond with him when she'd lied a few months back, so she promised to always tell him the truth, even if the admission got her in trouble. That meant she wouldn't lie, if he asked, but she wouldn't necessarily volunteer the information, either. With a final glance at the wintry scene outside, she twisted her long blond hair into a braid and strode into the kitchen to fix her chicken sandwich.

  The meal helped restore her energy and gave Kelly focus. Hands on her hips, she stared at their twinkling tree. Christmas had been a magical time, but after the stroke of midnight even Cinderella had to return to sweeping the fireplace. Unfortunately, Jim kept the storage boxes in the attic, which only had a small pull ladder as access. He'd refused to let her climb it when they set up the tree, insisting the flimsy rails weren't stable enough to hold her, and yet the wooden construction accepted his two-hundred-pound, muscled frame without a creak or a groan. Good lord. She was pregnant, not breakable.

  Marching back to fetch their step stool, she placed the molded plastic steps beneath the spring-hinged hatch, climbed up and grabbed the sprig of fake mistletoe Jim had hung from the inset door. The many kisses he'd given her under the white berried plant had heated her inside and out, and the thought of what they'd often done afterward still made her toes curl. Her Dom was an excellent lover, if only he'd realize her condition hadn't transformed her into a china doll.

  He'd entwined the door's pull cord between the shiny, smooth oval leaves to keep it out of her reach and temptation. Delicately freeing the twisted fibers from their nesting place, she gave the thin rope a yank. The force of the door coming down almost knocked her off the small stepladder. Carefully maneuvering the tricky contraption, Kelly stepped off the stool, and bent forward to move it out of the way, when the sliding step ladder slipped down its track and clipped her on the head, knocking her flat.

  Kelly lay sprawled on the floor as stars floated in an out of her vision. She wasn't badly hurt, but suspected she'd have a sizeable lump to show for her efforts. That's when the unmistakable jiggling of keys opening the front door reached her ears. Shit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "KELLY?"

  Why did he have to come home early today? Kelly groaned internally, certain he would turn her small accident into a cataclysmic event. She started to rise up on her elbows and knees, when two strong hands encircled her waist and pulled her upright.

  "What in the friggin' dickens do you think you're doin', Kellian Sarah?" Jim punished her for swearing, so he did his best to keep his language 'cuss free' as well. Though from his tone, she suspected he would like to do nothing more than lay into her royally.

  "I wanted to help by putting away the Christmas decorations," she confessed as she rubbed her sore head with a wince. Good deeds, it seemed, never did go unpunished.

  "Help?" His question held a measure of doubt. "Put your hands down. I wanna take a look at the damage." She obeyed and stood still under his inspection.

  "You gotta a lump that's expandin' nicely. You hurt anyplace else?"

  "No. Only my pride," she admitted ruefully.

  "Hmm. Darlin', your pride ain't the only thing that's gonna be hurtin' in a few minutes. First, though, I want to put an ice pack on that thick skull of yours to get some of the swellin' down. Easy now," he urged, his hands steadying her when she wobbled. "Dizzy?"

  "Just a bit."

  He accepted her response without comment as he guided her into the kitchen and directed her to sit near the table while he dumped some ice into a baggie and wrapped it in a towel. "Hold this in place," he ordered, lowering the bag to her head. "I'm gonna put that ladder back up."

  His footsteps were firmer than usual as he strode toward the hall. Kelly knew from experience that heavy steps meant a heavy hand would soon follow, and she squirmed a little in the chair.

  "You said you wouldn't be back for hours," she called out after him. "What brought you home early?"

  When he didn't answer, she suspected he was swearing at her beneath his breath. Her backside tingled at the thought of what was still to come.

  On his return, he remained in the doorframe with his hands on his slim, jean-covered hips. "I didn't like the sound of your voice on the phone, so I came to check on you. Right good thing I did, too."

  "I thought I could manage it," she whispered lamel
y.

  "Uh uh."

  She tilted her head up to find him scowling at her. "Well, I did."

  He strode across the room to tower over her seated form. Nothing like a lean, angry Texas Dom to make a sub feel smaller than dirt. "Not the point, darlin'. What did I say about the attic ladder?"

  Kelly knew exactly where this conversation would take them, but she didn't hesitate to answer with the truth. "You said it wasn't safe for me to climb."

  "Right. So, why do you suppose I tucked its cord out of your reach?"

  "So, I wouldn't be tempted to disobey you."

  "Correct again. So, you ain't stupid, just stubborn, and that's gonna cost you."

  "Are you angry with me?"

  "What do you think?"

  "That my ass is grass."

  A small grin teased at the corner of his lips. So, he wasn't furious enough she couldn't make him smile, but she didn't imagine even a belly laugh would save her butt now.

  "I'm sorry?" she attempted.

  "Uh uh."

  "Not good enough?"

  "Not by a long shot." He stepped forward to check her head. "Swellin's gone down a bit, I think. Can you stand?"

  She regarded him through lowered lashes. "What if I say no?"

  He shrugged. "I'll carry you into the bedroom and lay you down on the bed."

  "And then?"

  "And then I'll roll you on to a pillow and take my belt to your disobedient backside."

  She winced. "And if I say I can walk?"

  "We'll walk to the bedroom together and I'll give you a choice. Lap or bed. Hairbrush or belt."

  She curled her fingers around his long, blunt-tipped ones, relieved when he didn't pull away. "What about using your hand instead?" she ventured

  "You tryin' to negotiate a lighter sentence with me, Kelly girl?"

  Lifting her head, she gazed into his dark, coffee-brown eyes. "Yes, Sir."

  "You think that's wise given my feelin's on toppin' from the bottom?"

  "No, Sir. But I can't help at least asking the question."

  "Yeah? Well, I doubt my hand is up to the task I've got in mind for your impertinent backside. Now, which will it be? Walk or carry?"

  Kelly winced again. "Walk with assistance?"

  "Fine." He removed the ice pack from her head and placed a hand under her elbow to help her to her feet, then with one arm wrapped firmly about her waist he escorted her into the bedroom. "Time to pick your position, sugar. Which'll it be? Lap or bed?"

  Though she preferred the intimacy of his lap, the angle would be more uncomfortable and she hated the hairbrush almost as much as she hated the cane. However, she was no great fan of the belt, either. At least she could hold on to him if she laid across his knees. Taking a deep breath, she made her choice. "Lap."

  He regarded her for a long moment. "You feelin' dizzy at all right now?"

  A wash of guilt flowed through her for causing him unneeded concern and worry, despite the nobleness of her intentions, so she tried to reassure him. "No. My head doesn't hurt at all anymore. It was a stupid accident."

  "You won't get any argument from me on the stupid part, but the accident could have been avoided if you'd obeyed me, which means you didn't cotton on too well to the last lesson I attempted to teach you on the folly of disobedience. So, this one needs to be a bit harsher to make my point, I think. Now strip while I get things ready."

  Only too well-acquainted with the routine, Kelly slowly removed her comfy sweatpants, panties and top while he snatched a pillow from the bed and picked up the dreaded hairbrush from his dresser before he strode back to her. "Over there." He indicated with the brush where he wanted her to stand as he crossed the room to sit on the hard-backed chair they kept primarily for this purpose.

  She reluctantly took her position on his right, and lay across his pillow-covered knees when he gave the signal. Though she wasn't looking forward to this punishment, she accepted her actions were deserving of his disapproval. His left arm curled about her waist, pinning her in close to the hard plane of his stomach.

  "We'll do this until I'm convinced you've learned your lesson. With each swat, I want you to call out the number and say, 'I'm sorry I disobeyed you.' Say 'melon' if you need a break, and I'll stop long enough for us to have a chat. You clear on your part?"

  "Yes, Sir," Kelly replied with a sniff. His disappointment was palpable, and that alone brought tears to her eyes. Jim's punishments were painful, but not unbearable. What she found unbearable was the knowledge she'd angered him. "I only wanted to help," she mewled.

  "Finding you sprawled out like a dead possum beneath sliding steps is not helpful. I swear you took two years off my life when I spotted you lyin' on the floor." The moment those words were out of his mouth, the paddle-like brush descended with enough force to push a cry out of Kelly's lungs.

  "One. I'm sorry I disobeyed you, Sir," she dutifully repeated.

  "I am, too," he admitted as the wooden implement landed again.

  "Ow! Two. I'm sorry I disobeyed you, Sir."

  "You could have been seriously hurt," he insisted along with another swat. Kelly repeated her words with each stroke while he provided her with the reasons he considered her punishment long overdue.

  By the tenth smack, Kelly's butt burned and tears were flowing non-stop. By the fifteenth, she was gripping his leg and kicking. Her bottom had grown a lot more sensitive with her pregnancy, and he wasn't cutting her any slack. When the twentieth stroke fell she sobbed out, "Oh, God, Jim. I'm so sorry. I won't try to climb that lousy ladder again. I promise. Please stop!"

  "Count," he prompted, though it sounded like he spoke through gritted teeth.

  "I didn't mean to upset you. I was hoping you'd be pleased to discover the chore had been taken care of."

  The brush fell with another quick volley of five, which didn't give her enough time to breathe, let alone say the words he required. "Give me the count. Now, Kelly."

  "Twenty-five!" she cried out in a near scream. "Melon. Please, stop.

  He tucked the wooden implement under his thigh and lightly rubbed her sore hindquarters. "I swear, woman. You can tick me off faster than a poll-taker with a clipboard. You are far more important to me than a living room cleared of holiday decorations. Whatever made you think I'd approve of you doin' this even if you hadn't been hurt?"

  "You work so hard, I thought you would be relieved to find the job already done." Kelly sobbed out once she realized how badly she'd messed things up.

  Jim continued his light stroking to ease her. "Hush now. I'm not pleased you disobeyed me, but I'm not angry, either. Though your heart may have been in the right place, your brain clearly took a vacation."

  She snorted at that, then gave a soft murmur of pleasure. His gentle caresses eased some of the soreness, which created an entirely different need within Kelly. She lifted her backside into his palm, earning herself another smack. A light one with his hand this time. "Ow."

  "Pushin' your butt upwards is a signal you want more, not less."

  "I do want more, but not swats."

  "Yeah? Well, I'm thinkin' you should sleep in the guest bedroom tonight as further punishment for your thoughtlessness. Maybe next time you'll use your God-given intelligence first."

  "No!" Kelly instantly protested and tried to rise, but Jim's arm kept her locked in position. "Please. I truly am sorry for worrying you, and I realize I should have heeded your advice, but don't shut me out of our bed. I don't sleep well when we're apart."

  "Yeah, I know, and that's the only reason I'll relent. You need a minimum of eight hours rest." His hand hadn't ceased running along her back and thighs, but he had yet to touch her where she ached most for the press of his fingers.

  When she spread her legs wider in invitation, he gave her another light smack. So, he understood what she wanted, but chose to deny her. With a sigh of disappointment, Kelly lowered her head and did her best to submit to his will.

  "Good girl," he praised, continuing his strok
ing. "Now, tell me what you've learned."

  "That you can be a real hard-ass when—Ow!"

  After the single hard swat, the brush played a warning tap on her thighs before it stroked the lower curve of her bottom." Kelly drew air between her teeth as the nerves of her already sore backside began prickling again.

  "I'm beginnin' to think I've been too easy on your butt, if you're eager to sass me like that while you're still draped over my knees for punishment. Perhaps I should concentrate on areas a bit more sensitive."

  Oops! Stupid runaway tongue. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

  "Go on. I'm listenin'."

  "Could I sit up while we have this conversation?"

  "No. I like you where you are. So, say your piece."

  Kelly sighed. This would either be a huge mistake on her part, or create a better understanding between them. "Sometimes, I don't want you to be so gentle with me."

  "You think I was bein' gentle?" She could hear the incredulous note in his question, and was tempted to laugh.

  "No, not the spanking. I understand what I did wrong, and why you punished me, but when we make love... Sometimes, I want you to take me like you can't bear to be anywhere else but inside me. Like you need to claim me and my pleasure in a way that leaves no doubt I belong to you."

  "You got any doubts now?"

  "No... I'm not saying this right. I want you to pound into me until I scream out in ecstasy. I want to experience pure animalistic, no holds barred, sex. I won't break, Jim. I promise."

  "You sayin' I've been leaving you wantin'?"

  She tried to rise again, and this time he let her up, though he kept a protective hand at her waist, so she shifted to sit on his lap. Ouch. Even a soft, feather pillow didn't offer her well-heated posterior much comfort at this point, but she had no wish to be any place else. Placing a kiss against his cheek, she murmured, "No. You've never left me unsatisfied in any way. But I want to feel as though your desire for me makes you lose control. That you want me so much you can't help yourself." She suspected her request wouldn't be easy for him, since Jim was a man who prided himself on self-control.