by Megan McCoy
Jeb gave a short sharp whistle and the horse, which had backed away during their conversation, looked at him and trotted obediently to where they stood. “Guess it’s time for us to head to the lodge,” he said. “You want to drive back?” He smiled at her, and her brain stalled while her other parts throbbed. Geez, she wanted him.
“Drive back? Steer? I don’t think so. Maybe a lesson or two first? I can’t figure out how to sit on him, much less drive him. Besides,” she all but purred shamelessly, wantonly, “I like being behind you.”
Jeb laughed, and grabbed the reins of the ready to be mounted horse, and swung himself into the saddle with a move that looked like dancing, so smooth and fluid, she couldn’t wait to see what his other moves would consist of. On her, over her, in her, oh yes. “You know the drill now,” he said, moving his foot from the stirrup.
Feeling very small next to the huge piece of horseflesh and totally overwhelmed by this so very male man, she lifted her foot to the stirrup and once again found herself settled in behind him. Snuggling in close and wrapping her arms around him, she decided this could be her new favorite place to be. “There’s no commute like this in Chicago,” she sighed happily.
“What’s your commute like?” he asked as if they were strangers on the street making polite conversation.
Which they kind of were, she decided. Other than a sizzling kiss that had rocked her world, forever. What did she know about him? She needed to find out more. He could hate chocolate, or be into rubber, or a hundred other deal breakers. Who knew?
Commute. He asked about commute.
“Very often it consists of an elevator ride away. Most of my hotels put me up in a suite for the amount of time I’m there. I’m a cleanup woman. I go in, clean things up, from management to staffing and straighten out someone else’s mess, then train a new manager to take over. So it’s just easier if I live on site.”
“You don’t have a home of your own?”
She could tell he was surprised. “Well, it’s not like I’m homeless. I have a very nice place to put my head every night,” she said, dryly.
“Where’s the rest of your stuff now? You didn’t come with much,” he turned the horse toward the lodges, but didn’t make it run like he did before. They were at a slow walk and her bottom appreciated that. Plus, she didn’t want the ride to end. Ever.
“Like my winter clothes and things? I left them in storage. They have rental storage in the big cities,” she said, and pushed herself a just a bit closer to him.
“Like your furniture and knick-knacks and pictures? Females always have knick-knacks and pictures,” he said.
“Oh, I have all my pictures on a flash drive, not that I have too many. I’m not really a knick-knack person. Something else to dust, you know.”
“Also makes a place feel homey,” he said.
Cassandra felt surprise. That was true. But she never really contemplated the word ‘home’ in regard to her. She lived in hotels. After her mom divorced her dad and took off, her neglectful father had a string of what she thought of as ‘hard’ women running in and out. He’d pick one up at the latest bar he frequented, she’d come home with him, and be there from one night to a few months then just be gone one day when Cassandra came home from school. Mostly, after the first few she didn’t even bother to learn their names and she certainly never let on she could hear the noises through the thin walls of whatever place they were living in.
She’d left home for college at eighteen, and had only very sporadic contact with her father since. He seemed to like it like that. So did she, truth be told. He had never been outright cruel to her, just basically ignored her for the most part. She felt very pleased she could return the favor.
She was relieved that she and her mom had reconciled though. They didn’t have much in common after all the years apart, but she knew the coffee pot was her mom’s way of trying, at least. Trying to build a better relationship and move forward. It was something.
“I guess homey isn’t my forte, then,” she said, attempting a laugh. “I just want a place to put my head at night, and if I’m between jobs, like now, I find another job and stay there.” Well. That sounded pathetic, didn’t it? Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She’d been doing it for so long, it just seemed right and proper. She had never dreamed of a little cottage with a white picket fence and kids running around driving her insane. She always dreamed of a good job in a great hotel with lots of people there to do her bidding.
“Have you always lived here?” she asked. She could see him being born on this place, like his great grandfather before him. That was a romantic thought.
“No, I didn’t move here till Rose and I got married. It was just land back then. We built the den, the barns and outbuildings and then the cabins ourselves. Most of the homestead was her vision, then we added on after she passed away.”
“She sounds wonderful,” Cassandra said, softly.
“Yup. Hang on, Candy, I’ve got to get you to the kitchen before the boss man finds out you’ve been slacking off and paddles your butt,” he urged the horse to a trot.
That was like the second or third time he’s mentioned that, she thought as her butt began slamming up and down on horseflesh again. “Do you paddle all the slackers?” she teased. Now that was a management style she’d never thought of employing.
“Nope. Only the general managers. Kiss them and then paddle them,” he threw back over his shoulder, as they came in site of the lodge buildings. “Kitchen, right?”
Was that where she’d been going? Oh, yeah, maybe it was. Who could remember now and who would notice she’d been gone? She hoped enough time had passed that her lips weren’t still kiss swollen and that her brain could return to work mode. Tyler sure never made her feel like this. No man had. It was probably the fresh air, she told herself. And the new environment. Nothing more. Maybe the blue jeans.
Oh hell, whom was she kidding? She knew exactly what it was and it had nothing to do with the landscape and everything to do with the male she had her arms around.
The horse stopped in front of the kitchen via whatever magic it was that made him do whatever Jeb wanted. Maybe he paddled the horse’s butt? That thought made her giggle, as he kicked his foot out of the stirrup again. She didn’t want to get off and go back to work. She wanted to get off, and not in the way he was probably thinking she should. But flat on her back with him on top of her.
“Damn, it was going to be a long day,” they both thought as she walked into the kitchen and he galloped away.
* * * * *
What was he doing? Jeb thought, heading out to check on some fencing and then up to where the hands were training the new horses to trail ride. What was with that blonde city girl that made his brain fuzz and his dick get harder than it had for years? Was it just need? No, he’d needed before. A quick fun time with a willing woman was usually all it took for him to be satisfied for a month or two. But he’d known there was something about her since he’d watched her speak to his raggedy troop of workers, then turn around and kick the shit out of the table. Spitfire. He loved to tame a spitfire, especially one with an icy façade, steely determination, and barely suppressed passion. He could have taken her right then, and he knew it. Her passion that needed a simple kiss to ignite was the attraction. Was that all it was?
Somehow, he didn’t think so, especially after that little make out session at the lake. She was going to be wild in bed. He could already tell and that was just fine with him. More than fine. Once he got her head straightened out, maybe she’d be a good partner in other areas, too. He hadn’t thought seriously about a woman since Rose passed. He’d had his share, of course, but what was it about this one that made him think he didn’t only want a one-night stand? This city girl who made it clear she only wanted to be here stopgap until she returned to her real life. He just knew he wanted to find out. Maybe do a little fire quenching. It would be the least he could do for her. He wouldn’t mind it either and he loved
a win/win situation.
Chapter Five
Cassandra lay back in Jeb’s arms and looked up at the twinkling stars. How many were there, she wondered. How had anyone ever figured out which was where to even name them? She’d never understood that. They were amazing, but looked so random to her.
The boat rocked on a little swell and she relaxed, realizing she loved the rowboat now. She’d even learned to row it a little. At least she’d learned the technique. Her upper arm strength wasn’t developed enough that she could go far, but that might change.
What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to be here long enough for her body to change that drastically, was she? But maybe she’d take a bit more advantage of the hotel’s brand spanking new work out center when she got back.
Spanking.
There was that word again. He’d mentioned it a few times in the last two weeks, including today, while they tried out this relationship thing. Still not knowing what it was either of them wanted was frustrating since she’d only be here another couple of months.
Sometimes she just wanted to do the deed and get well enjoyed, but done so the tension eased, and other times, she appreciated his patience with her, and the long bit of foreplay. Fine, he’d had her on simmer for a while now. It wasn’t going to take much to ignite a bonfire. She could only hope he could handle a bonfire. Somehow, she wasn’t concerned about it, knowing he could handle anything she tossed his way. Or that he lit on fire.
“I love it out here,” she said, contentedly. It was true. Right here in this rowboat with this man holding her, was the best date she could imagine.
“Best place in the world,” he agreed. “Can’t stay out long, though, tonight.”
“How come? Early day tomorrow?” she asked, heart suddenly pounding and knowing what was coming next.
“Think I owe someone a paddling,” he said, calmly as if he said he was going to order pizza, which you couldn’t do that out here either, of course, but oh my god, did he mean it?
“Really,” she asked, equally as calmly as if her mouth wasn’t suddenly dry and her pulse wasn’t racing and she didn’t just start to tremble with nerves. He pulled her closer to him, but didn’t make another move.
“Yeah, really. You’ll feel better once it’s over,” he promised.
“I’m fine now!” She protested. “It was a momentary meltdown! I’m allowed one. I did it in private.”
Earlier today she’d found two of the housekeeping teams in a guest room, smoking a joint, with a wine bottle chaser. They were on break, yes, but still. None of them were old enough to drink, and this was not a marijuana legal state. Four girls, good girls more than likely, just messing around like girls do and all in their late teens. She’d had to fire them all on the spot, and while all of them cried, one bawled hysterically, and begged for her job back, saying she was sole support of a baby.
Cassandra hated doing it, but she’d been told there was a zero tolerance policy for drugs or alcohol during work hours, and even a break was work hours. Despite her desperate wish not to do it, had carried through with the policy she’d been hired to uphold. Firing was never fun. Firing was horrible. But it was what she knew had to be done.
Later she’d locked herself in her bedroom and sobbed till she was sick to her stomach. Everyone had a part of their job they hated and this was hers. She hated firing people, even when they deserved it, hated thinking of a baby going without. She knew what her teenage years had been like, and if she’d been fired from one of her jobs because of a stupid kid mistake, it would have been beyond horrible for so many reasons. But she wasn’t a teenager anymore and she had a job to do. It didn’t make her feel better about it though.
When Jeb unlocked her bedroom door with a key she didn’t know he had, he had held her hair while she sobbed and threw up, and then she all turned around and all but flew at him. Feeling furious, that he had made her do something so horrible, then invaded her privacy with no thought, she just wanted to attack someone.
Instead of being mad, he’d held her tight until she stopped fighting him and her sobs subsided, and then rubbed her back. Finally, he’d tilted her chin and looked down into her eyes, and said, “You did the right thing. You followed the rules and did what had to be done. I’m glad of that.”
“I’m not glad,” she whimpered. “That poor baby.”
“Baby? They are old enough to work, they aren’t babies,” he said.
“Amber’s baby. She has a three month old baby and no daddy in the picture, and,” she started sobbing again.
“Okay. Did not know. Will figure something out there, maybe this will help Amber grow up some, but I’ll make sure we get her situation checked on and some help. I know people in town. That make you feel better?” He still stroked her back and held her close.
“Yeah, a little bit, I guess,” she sniffled and hiccupped. “I didn’t mean to attack you.”
“I know, but I don’t like this reaction, and after work tonight, I’m going to blister your butt till you get over feeling guilty about it and you are darn sorry about attacking me.”
They’d talked about his opinion on spanking a few times. He acted as if it was just something that needed done sometimes, and she had always been curious about it. So when he simply announced he was going to do it, she felt, oddly enough, as if that was the way it should be and simply nodded agreement into his chest, and then sobbed a bit more for good measure.
“Better save a few of those tears for later,” he’d said. “Now, go wash your face and get back to work. The other workers are upset and you need to handle it. We’ll deal with this tonight.”
Now it was tonight.
“I’m scared of a spanking,” she confessed. “But I’m… I’ve…well…” sighing heavily, she covered her eyes with her hands, like a little kid ‘you can’t see me.’
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Jeb shifted her to the side and picked up the oars to head back to shore. “It’s going to hurt, but you’ll live. Once it’s over, you won’t have a need to feel guilty because you were properly punished. Understand?”
Well, she wasn’t stupid. Of course, she understood. “I guess,” she said slowly and dropped her hands to look at him, watching as a slow smile stole over his face. She did not melt. Did not. Her stomach might have flip-flopped a bit but that was only because of nerves. Not because of his hot self.
She watched his large hands as he pulled the oars, and wondered what they would feel like on her bare… parts. Not only her bottom, but all of her. It had been two weeks since their first kiss. Not that long, of course, in the grander scheme of life, but long enough to go further than second base. They weren’t teenagers. She knew he could. She’d felt his hard thick self against her belly, and a couple times when her fingers went wandering. It managed to rise to the occasion, quite well. What was he waiting for? Maybe he’d want to do that after, before, instead of, spanking her.
Oh! She should tell him that. Maybe he didn’t know she was ready. Maybe the spanking thing was a ploy to get her pants off. Her heart skipped a beat as her mind raced. Was he going to spank her bare? What underwear did she have on? It had been a long time since morning and she didn’t remember. She knew she’d pulled them on after her shower without a thought. None of them were really ratty. Or granny. But some were nicer than others, she had to admit.
“Ugh!” he’d reached shore while she’d been preoccupied with her underwear thoughts, and she’d been thrown against the side of the boat. Not paying attention to his every move like she usually did.
“You okay, Candy?” he asked, dropping the oars and grabbing her. “Didn’t know you were daydreaming.”
“Don’t know how you didn’t know,” she grumbled. “Kind of have my brain full of what’s-going-to-happen right now, because of you.”
“Then let’s go get it done so you don’t have to dread it anymore,” Jeb grabbed her hand and helped her out of the boat.
Yeah. It would be nice not to dread it. Sh
e wasn’t sure she wanted it to happen, however, but she felt pretty sure it was going to unless she had a tantrum and said absolutely no. Weirdly, she’d been curious about spanking all her life. Her best friend growing up, Sherry, had been spanked by her parents often. They had no qualms about doing a yank and spank—yank her up by the arm and flipped over a knee, then paddled till she squalled for any minor infraction. She’d witnessed a few and while she felt badly for Sherry, often wondered what it would be like if it happened to her. They never once acted as if they knew she was alive, while it happened, though. Once their child was properly punished, they just left. Mostly she appreciated that they never involved her, but it had left this niggling thought in her head and as she grew older, went Internet wandering. She’d found a few stories, then a few sites, then some books and well. Now, she was going to experience the fantasy. According to the stories, it was never quite what you imagined it would be.
“Have you done this before?” she asked, nervously.
“What? Tied up my boat? A few times,” he looped the rope around the stake in the dock and grabbed her hand again.
“No,” she said. She was never at a loss for words. Why could she not articulate?
“Oh!” he said as if the idea just occurred to him, and squeezed her hand. “You mean spank someone.”
Mutely, she nodded and snuck under his arm so she could be closer to him. Why the mere strength of him comforted her when she knew he would be using it soon to cause her pain seemed odd, but there you go. She never said she wasn’t challenging. Or maybe just female.
“Done that a few times, too,” he said.
* * * * *
He remembered the first time he’d spanked Rose. They’d met and fell in love so young, and they’d both mellowed as they got older but when they were both teenagers, as kids do, thought the world was black and white. He was right, she was wrong, he was an ass, she was perfect. Neither of them knew how to discuss or argue while dealing with all their raging hormones going wild. They’d both agreed to wait till marriage, but that didn’t mean they didn’t do anything – they just didn’t do everything and it drove them both wild. He worked out his need doing construction and working with the horses. Most of her work was mental with bouts of waitressing, which he had to admit, while physically challenging was also emotionally stressful often.