A Mouse in His Pocket
By
Patricia Green
(c)2011 by Blushing Books(r) and Patricia Green
Copyright (c) 2011 by Blushing Books(r) and Patricia Green
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books(r),
a subsidiary of
ABCD Graphics and Design
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
The trademark Blushing Books(r) is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Green, Patricia
A Mouse in His Pocket
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics
Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us!
There are plenty more stories such as the one you've purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our might selection!
http://www.blushingbooks.com
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter One
"Oh, Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree...hmm, hmm, hmm..." Jenny's soft singing accompanied her as she backed up further and further from the mother and son who wanted their picture taken. The Student Recreation and Wellness Center lay behind her as she framed the shot.
Visitors to the campus often wanted a photo or two to take home with them, and in this case, Jenny was happy to help. She'd finished her workout and was about to head for the Student Services Center to check on paperwork for her final semester at UNLV. Almost done! By June she'd have her BFA and be on her way. To where, she wasn't sure, but she was sure it would be exciting.
The photo was almost framed; a few more feet back and... "Oh!" She stumbled, the camera flew up, and she sat abruptly on something warm and firm.
A thick forearm, ending with a broad hand, shot out to catch the camera.
"Hey!" A deep voice chuckled. "It's raining women!"
Jenny shot to her feet, and spun around. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!"
A good-looking guy in a sheepskin vest, smiled up at her from his wheelchair.
The visitors ran up, took their camera, and hurried on.
Jenny turned back to the seated man and offered her apologies again. "I'm so sorry! You're okay, right? I didn't squish you too much?"
He laughed. She was taken with his long, black hair and chiseled features. He looked like maybe he was Native American. If he hadn't been in the chair, she'd have been tongue-tied and stupid-sounding. But the fact that, seated, he was a little shorter than her all-too-petite 5'1", made her feel a bit less intimidated. And his smile was so kind; she couldn't help but smile back.
"I'm fine."
She pulled the ear buds out of her ears and gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry. What did you say?"
"I said that I'm fine." He stuck out his hand. "Buck Stillwater."
She took it gently. "I'm Jenny Cooper."
"I teach in the business department."
"I'm an art student." She was still holding his hand. Her brain clicked into place and she carefully withdrew it.
He smiled again. "I'm not made of marshmallows. You can squeeze my hand like any other person."
"Oh my goodness! You must think I'm a complete ninny." Her cheeks got hot.
"No. A lot of people make that mistake." He grinned wolfishly. "But, except for the legs, all the other parts work."
Now her face was on fire. Her reply was a whisper. "Oh my goodness."
His laugh was infectious and she giggled. Buck seemed like a nice guy. But he was a professor, at least five years older than she. She tried to look older and more put together.
Smiling, he said, "I was on my way to the Wellness Center for a bite to eat and then a workout. Would you like to join me for some lunch?"
Jenny could hear "Hallelujah!" playing with tinny persistence from her dangling earbuds. "Um..." She weighed the immediacy of her paperwork versus the opportunity to get to know Buck better. Buck won, hands down. "Sure."
He grinned and turned his chair, his arms flexing and bulging as he spun the cambered wheels. As she walked alongside, she was impressed with his physical presence. His shoulders were broad and his biceps were thick as they emerged from his sheepskin vest. His forearms were heavy with muscle, too.
"So what do you teach?"
"Financial math and accounting. But in January I'll be going full-time with my accounting practice."
Not the most exciting career, but steady employment. "In Las Vegas?"
"No, but not far. Do you know where the Paiute reservation is?"
She did. She'd been to a summer festival there two years prior. "Ah-ha."
"That's where I grew up. I have offices there now, and everything's ready for me to start full-time. I just need to finish my commitment here."
They'd reached the Wellness Center, and he pressed the handicap door opener before she could scurry forward and grab the door. He rolled in confidently.
They got soup and sandwiches from a vendor and sat across from each other at a Formica table. "You're an artist, Jenny?"
She nodded, feeling rather foolish with lettuce sticking out of her mouth. "Yes. Well, kinda. I'm going to get my Bachelor of Fine Arts in June."
"Creative! I'm guessing watercolors. You have a softness like flowing colors."
"Gosh, thanks. But, no, I'm focusing on sculpture."
He looked at her hands and she wondered if he'd find her short nails and long fingers unattractive. "You must have strong hands." He ate a little. "I do some sculpture myself. Little epoxy putty figurines. I don't have much talent for it, but I enjoy it. Have you had anything in galleries? Where can I see your work?"
A little warm spot grew in Jenny's middle. He was interested in her sculpture! "No gallery shows...yet. But I have a couple of pieces in the art building."
"I'll have to roll over there and take a look. Maybe you could show me, so I don't get lost in the student gallery and miss them."
His eyes were so dark, like endless tunnels to something magical. She was drifting there for several moments before she realized that he'd asked her out. "I...um..."
He smiled. "Do you have a jealous boyfriend?"
Actually, she'd never had a boyfriend. She was shy around men, and her plain looks didn't seem to attract many. "No. I'm just a little flustered. I don't usually get asked to show off my pieces."
"Hmmm, well, your pieces interest me." He winked.
Her cheeks went hot again. He was going to force her to invest in thicker makeup. She hoped he wasn't solely interested in her for sex. Could he even have sex? He'd said all the "other parts" worked. She'd taken that to mean... What was she thinking!
Focus. "I can show you my work."
"When?"
"Tomorrow?"
"I'll be lecturing until about 2:00. I could meet you at the art building at, say, 2:30."
She had classes in the morning, but she was more than willing to hang out in the sculpture studio in the Ham arts building until they could meet. "Okay." Her smile was genuine. She hadn't had a date in more than six months.
He rolled back from the table. "Great. On that note...it's time for my workout."
They reached the exit and he gave her a grin. "I'll see ya tomorrow, Jenny. Thanks for joining me for lunch."
Shyness swept over her. She was going to see him aga
in. It was kind of hard to believe. "You're welcome, Buck. Thank you, too."
He grinned and headed toward the gym.
Jenny popped the ear buds back in her ears and turned on her player. "Joy to the World!" crescendoed triumphantly.
* * *
Even rolling at full speed, it took a while for Buck to make it to the Ham art building. He gave himself a couple of minutes outside to cool down, then made his way into the structure. Jenny waited for him, examining a large, abstract painting across from the doors. He didn't want to sneak up behind her, so he greeted her from several feet away.
"Hiya, Jen."
She turned and her smile lit up the room. Her hair was soft and brown, her hazel eyes gleaming green in coordination with her green sweater. She was sweet and lovely, and, best of all, she was all his for an hour or so.
"Hi, Buck." She met him as he came forward. "How are you today?"
"Getting better every minute."
She blushed and smiled shyly. "I'm glad."
"You're okay? Ready to show me around?"
Nodding, she waved him onward and took him through the gallery. When they got to the little pedestal with the clay bust on it, Buck was fascinated.
"You did this?"
She nodded, a small line between her brows. Maybe she was worried that he wouldn't like it. It was flattering that she cared.
"Wow." The detail of the woman's face was exquisite. Her eyes were intelligent, but troubled. She looked like a fairy tale princess with worries. "She's gorgeous." Words were inadequate and he wished he could come up with the right ones.
She looked shyly at the floor. "Thanks. You're very nice to say that, Buck."
"Show me what else you have here."
As she led him along, he listened to her descriptions of some of what they saw, but part of his mind was focused on Jenny the woman. He wondered what made her so shy about her excellent art. To be exhibited in the gallery at UNLV was an accomplishment. Her instructors must respect her talents. He'd like to find out what made her tick. She was pretty and gentle. Not all women captivated him like she did. He'd known some who kept his attention for a while, but they didn't inspire the protective feelings he had for this shy woman. He wondered if she might ever be naughty enough to require a spanking. Did she have a bratty streak?
She looked at him oddly as he grinned at the thought of her over his knees. Buck schooled his features into something more appropriate as they came to her second sculpture. It was as exceptional as the first, and he praised it. This one was not a bust, but a small, bronze nude of a winged woman.
"The detail is amazing. That must have taken a lot of patience."
"Details are important, don't you think?"
"Very," he agreed.
They chatted there for a few minutes before she said, "I suppose I should stop yammering on about art and let you have your afternoon."
"I'm enjoying our time, Jenny. Look at me, hon."
She gave him a cautious, tentative look.
He smiled. She looked so young, though she must've been twenty-one or--two. "You're so shy," he pointed out. "Like a little mouse."
Her cheeks went crimson. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I like you, little mouse."
Her smile was sweet. "I like you, too."
* * *
As Christmas drew closer, the houses lit up throughout the Las Vegas suburbs. Jenny and Buck went on several drives in a variety of neighborhoods, looking at the lights and displays with alternating awe and laughter. They sang Christmas carols in Buck's SUV, and Jenny loved the mellow sound of his baritone voice. They even spent a couple of Sunday afternoons at the homeless shelter at Jenny's church, helping people whose holidays looked bleak.
Jenny learned about the childhood accident that left him paralyzed from the mid-thigh down. And they went to the reservation to meet some of his family. Not everyone was there. His younger brother, Drake, was in northern Nevada working with the Bureau of Indian Affairs security division. And his father was happy-tipsy.
Buck wasn't embarrassed, but kind of worried-looking, his eyes following his father around the room as though he was afraid the man would trip and fall and he wouldn't be able to catch him. As the oldest of Albert's children, Buck had a responsibility streak a mile wide.
Jenny strove to be herself, but she wanted things to move to a different level with Buck. His constant attention was exciting and made her feel good, but maybe she wasn't good enough to keep his interest for long. She'd spent so many years trying to make her parents pay attention to her, by excelling in school, earning an academic scholarship to UNLV, and with her art. But they had little interest in her. At best, they could be described as benignly neglectful.
Buck was different. He seemed to be interested in what she said and did. When he'd pulled her down to face him and had given her a searing kiss, her heart tried to beat right out of her chest. Bright sensation blossomed all over her body.
But she was convinced she wasn't desirable, that men wanted women with sex appeal. Her younger sister, with her blonde, blue-eyed beauty laughed at the idea that anyone would be interested in Jenny, saying that only someone with half-a-body could find Jenny attractive. A sneer twisted the younger woman's rosebud mouth. "At least I date whole men."
Jenny's heart clenched. "You wouldn't know a whole man if you met one, Mary. The men you date are empty shells, conceited and crude. And, sleeping with every male you meet is whoring, not dating."
"You're a stupid virgin," Mary countered. "What do you know?"
Jenny drew in all her dignity and gathered up her coat and gloves. She had to get out of there before she said something more regrettable.
When Buck met her for dinner that night, his frown was immediate. "Hello, little mouse. Although, I see you're not exactly my little mouse anymore."
Uh-oh. The salon pick-me-up had been a bad idea. "You hate it."
"I liked your real hair color, Jenny."
Her stomach sank to the floor. "I'll dye it back."
He led them into the restaurant. "What made you change it?"
"I thought you'd like it better." She wanted to tell him that she'd been trying to look more sexy, but she didn't actually feel more sexy, and apparently, the change didn't rock his world either.
She took her seat at the table, unable to meet his eyes. She'd done a stupid thing. "I'm sorry."
He peered at her for a few moments, then nodded. "I like you for more than your hair, Jenny."
The waiter handed her a menu at that moment and the conversation turned to other things. She forgot about her hair until after dinner. Buck invited her to his house.
He had a little two-bedroom bungalow on the outskirts of Las Vegas, east, toward the reservation. She'd been there once before, and found it warm and inviting.
He eyed her hair again as they took off their coats. "Jenny, we need to talk about your hair."
She was sick. He was going to break up with her because she'd been so insecure. The really frustrating thing was, she liked it better brown anyway, even if it wasn't bright and flashy. "I'll fix it."
"Okay." He rolled into his living room and levered himself into a cushy chair, placing his feet firmly on the floor. "Come here."
She approached him timidly. "Are you very mad?"
"More disappointed than mad, but I do think you should be punished."
"Punished?"
"Yes, punished. Spanked."
Her whole body went hot. "Are you kidding?"
He shook his head, the little pony tail he wore bobbing on his neck. "Not at all."
"But why do you want to spank me?"
"Because you're trying to be someone other than yourself. You're great the way God made you, Jenny." He gestured. "Come closer."
Wanting to please him, wanting him to forgive her for being such a ninny, she moved to stand in front of him, trembling.
He reached out for her, his hands going to the fastenings of her jeans and making quick work of the button
and fly. Modesty compelled her to hold his hands still.
"Do you trust me?" he asked. She nodded. "Then let go. I'm going to spank your bare bottom."
There was a tingle between her legs, but she pushed it aside. "Buck..."
He sat back.
"I..." How could she tell him that she'd never been nude with a man before? "I'm shy about taking off my clothes in front of a man."
"You've only done it in the dark?"
Her body tingled again at the idea of talking about sex with Buck. They'd never discussed it before, though he'd flirted about it more than a few times. He was going to think she was a complete failure as a female, but she wasn't a liar. "I've never done it at all." Her voice was a whisper.
She watched from beneath her lashes as his eyebrows shot up.
"Well." He stared at her until she started to squirm and move to button up her pants. He stayed her hands. "I didn't say you weren't going to be spanked. But, we may have to change the order of events. Give me a kiss first."
She let her gaze roam over his dear face, and her affection and trust came to the fore. He wouldn't harm her, she was sure of it. When he reached for her to bring her face to his, she melted inside. His mouth against hers was sensual and compelling. She wanted to climb into his lap and kiss him forever. When they broke, however, he went right to the sides of her jeans and began to push them down her hips.
"I'm going to kiss you more, but first things first."
She gasped as her jeans got down to her knees and his hands went to her bikini panties. They were the ones with the little green Christmas wreaths with woven red bows. "Oh my goodness," she breathed, shutting her eyes tight as her private parts were exposed.
"Is there mistletoe in those wreaths?"
She thought she might die of embarrassment.
"They're cute. I'm teasing you." His touch was gentle, but impersonal turning her around. "Lie over my legs."
"Can't we do this later? After a few more kisses?"
A Mouse in His Pocket Page 1