Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories

Home > Romance > Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories > Page 47
Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories Page 47

by Sierra Cartwright


  “I don’t know what that is.” Her heart pounded, and his scent, warm leather and masculine man, filled her head and disrupted her concentration. People would get the wrong impression; they would talk. She freed her hand from his grasp.

  This was why she avoided family gatherings. Because of moments like this, moments that would send her to her lonely apartment aching and yearning. She’d go back to her annoying job, her empty life, and Hunter would return to...Sienna. Were they living together? The grapevine hadn’t filled her in on that.

  Her knees shook. Don’t think about it.

  “It’s a practice I’ve always been drawn to and have embraced as a lifestyle in recent years.” He stopped and glanced around the crowded room, and she became aware of the noise. Multiple people talked and laughed at once. He sighed. “I’d like to sit down with you, but this isn’t the place or time. Could we have coffee or meet for a drink?”

  It sounded almost like a...a...date. The knife twisted, and pain rampaged through her body. The similarities to a date were there, but that’s all there was. No way could she sit across from Hunter and chitchat.

  Yet, she yearned to accept. His wish was her command. Her reaction was simplicity itself, except for the complicated knots in her stomach, the way she would feel after they parted.

  What do I do? What do I say?

  “Hey, you two!” Sienna slithered over and slipped her arm through the crook of Hunter’s elbow. Hands off, he’s mine, hard eyes warned. “Mom says dinner will be served soon,” she said, as if she belonged here, as if Ariel intruded. A ginormous diamond caught the light and sparkled on Sienna’s right hand.

  I shouldn’t have come. “I’ll go check on things in the kitchen then.” She fled for safety.

  “Ariel!” Hunter’s commanding tone stopped her. She peered over her shoulder. Frustration and an odd sort of heat lit his gaze. “Think about what I said.”

  Damn him! She would think about nothing else.

  “What did you say?” Sienna’s sharp voice cut through the din.

  The noise, however, drowned out his rumbling response.

  Chapter Two

  “That’s between Ariel and me.” Hunter removed Sienna’s diamond-decorated hand from his arm. She’d kept the ring from a recent broken engagement. Her former fiancé who’d dodged the bullet probably considered it a small price to pay for his freedom. Hunter didn’t want to be rude, but from the moment he’d entered his parents’ home, Sienna had stuck to him like glue. How had she managed to finagle her way into the party?

  Many years ago, they’d dated for a while and fucked a few times, but the relationship had gone no further. Somehow, though, she’d always managed to attach herself to one of his buddies during high school so that she’d been a regular visitor in the Peyton home. Not that it had done her any good. Sienna of the unnaturally flashy red hair, stiletto shoes, daggered fingernails, and even sharper personality wasn’t his type. He knew she didn’t consider him her type either, but she hated to lose.

  The sweet, submissive little brunette hightailing it into the kitchen was his type. His step sister. Emphasis on the step. The parents had put so much emphasis on family, it had taken him a while to accept she wasn’t his real sister and to permit himself free rein to the feelings he’d suppressed.

  “Excuse me,” he said, and charged toward the kitchen.

  The Rod and Cane Society had helped him get his head on straight. The organization of domestic discipline practitioners, which emphasized traditional roles for men and women, had made him see he needed to step it up with Ariel and take the lead. He loved her, he desired her, and he longed for nothing more than to get her into his bed and bottom-side-up over his lap for the rest of their lives.

  Before she’d begun hiding her longing, her infatuation had been expressed openly and honestly in every glance and gesture. As a stupid kid, he’d been flattered, had found it cute, but had taken it for granted.

  Sublimating his feelings by dating and fucking other women hadn’t worked. Even after he’d come to grips with his emotions, the anticipated reaction of their parents held him back—as did Ariel herself. She’d crushed on him for so long. What if he’d become a “habit”? Could puppy love mature into something enduring?

  Then his mother scared the crap out him by mentioning how Ariel was hot and heavy dating a Mark somebody. I think it might be serious, she’d said.

  What if he’d waited too long? His knees had gone weak with relief when Ariel said the relationship had ended. He’d told her he was sorry, but he wasn’t in the least. Yes! he’d almost shouted.

  He’d pegged Ariel as a submissive to his Dominant years ago from the way she automatically obeyed his simple requests, responded to nuances in his moods. She would thrive under guidance and leadership, but would she embrace the spanking aspect? Some of his girlfriends hadn’t been able to. Sienna damn sure wouldn’t. Ironic that the one person who deserved a butt-blistering more than any other was the one he least wanted to spank. He’d fucked Sienna a time or two, but hadn’t ever spanked her.

  He found Ariel talking to one of the aunts who was slicing baguettes. For the kind of discussion they needed to have, he required Ariel’s undivided attention. He squeezed through the kitchen—why did people always end up there?—and entered the den. Tables with red cloths decorated with small bouquets of scarlet roses had been set up. A valentine had been placed at each setting.

  “Okay, everybody! We’re ready,” his mom called out. “The food is set up buffet style in the dining room. Grab a plate, serve yourself, and then find your name card in the family room.”

  Hunter glanced at the nearest table and saw that the valentines had names written on them in his mother’s handwriting. Ariel was seated at a table with Reagan and her husband. He’d been placed with their parents—and Sienna. Mom, how could you? He stifled a groan and glanced around. People were lining up for their food; no one was paying attention. He could switch the cards and seat himself next to Ariel and stick Sienna with Reagan. His sister wouldn’t thank him; she and Sienna had never gotten along. Also, it might upset his mother who wouldn’t like him messing with her arrangement. Reagan and Ariel had probably asked to sit together.

  Crap. He stomped toward the dining room. Well, at least the dinner part would be over quickly.

  *****

  Would dinner never end?

  The food had been eaten, but people lingered over conversation. Not only was he separated from Ariel, but Sienna had touched him at every opportunity. Her fingers brushed his when he passed the salt at her request, her foot nudged his under the table, and she laid a hand on his arm just about every time she addressed a comment to him—which was often. The woman hadn’t stopped talking since dinner started.

  Ariel, seated at the table directly in front him, focused on her plate. He tried to catch her eye, but she never seemed to glance his way.

  Hunter drained his iced tea glass and turned to Sienna. “Would you get me another glass of tea, please?”

  Annoyance at being asked for a favor flitted across her face before her eyes narrowed. He could see the wheels spin in her head as she calculated how to capitalize on the request—to further the charade of intimacy.

  “I’d be happy to.” She smiled. “Can I get you anything else while I’m up?”

  “Tea is all. Thank you.”

  Sienna took his tumbler and her wine glass and left the table. Hunter leaned close to his mother on his left. “Why did you put Sienna and I together?”

  “I didn’t,” she murmured. “Sienna must have changed the name cards. Dinner is winding down. You want to make your announcement?”

  “Yes. Please.” That should move things along, and then he could focus on Ariel.

  Sienna returned to the table with his tea and another glass of wine for herself. Her third? Fourth? She seemed to be hitting it a little hard, but he didn’t care what she did as long as she left him alone.

  “Thank you,” he said, and accepted his gla
ss and took a sip. Ugh. He shuddered. He drank his tea unsweetened. He’d swear the drink contained more sugar than tea and was certain she’d done it deliberately. Nobody drank iced tea with that much sweetener.

  Ding. Ding. Ding. His mother tapped her spoon against her water goblet to get the attention of the chatting, laughing guests. When the room quieted, she glanced at her husband before standing up. “I’d like to thank you all for sharing Valentine’s Day with Jake and me. He asked me to marry him on Valentine’s Day, so it’s always been a special holiday. It might seem a little strange to celebrate a day for lovers with a big group, but Valentine’s Day brought us together as a family. To spend this evening with all of you means the world to us. Our daughter Reagan baked a scrumptious red velvet cake, but before we have dessert, our son, Hunter, has a little announcement.”

  Next to him, Sienna nodded and smiled. Hunter sought out Ariel. She was finally looking his way. Her eyes were wide.

  His mother’s introduction of his “little” announcement somehow made it sound more important than it was.

  He’d quit his job with the engineering firm to start his own company with the idea of moving back to town. He could have opened his business anywhere, but he needed to be closer to pursue Ariel. A distance of hundreds of miles wasn’t conducive to courtship.

  Sienna touched his forearm—again. It was all he could do to not rebuff her, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. Annoyed, he pushed back from the table.

  Ariel’s chair crashed to the floor as she bolted from room.

  *****

  Ariel kept her emotions in check until she hit the front sidewalk. Then the sobs burst out in a great gushing force, the tears blinding her as she ran to her car, parked halfway down the block.

  No. No. No!

  She could not listen to the man she loved announce his engagement to that she-witch. It had been bad enough to watch them converse through dinner, Sienna touching him, smiling so lovingly when she fetched him a glass of iced tea. Ariel had hoped against hope the clinging behavior was just Sienna being Sienna, but Hunter had done nothing to discourage her.

  Her mother had seated them together. Then Hunter had readied to make his announcement. Sienna had gripped his arm, smiling up at him, her huge diamond solitaire gleaming on her left hand. It had been on her right hand earlier in the evening. Obviously, they’d intended to keep the engagement quiet until the big reveal.

  Ariel flung herself into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine.

  “Ariel! Wait!” Hunter charged onto the porch and waved. “Ariel!” He ran toward her car.

  She gunned it and screeched away in a blaze of burning rubber.

  She’d made a fool of herself by running away without any explanation. How embarrassing. She couldn’t imagine what they all were thinking. Hunter, her mom. Reagan. Her brother-in-law, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends. Remaining would have been far worse. No way could she congratulate him with any kind of grace.

  Her cell phone rang in her purse. Her stepmom’s ringtone. Driving, and in no condition to speak to anyone, she let it go to voice mail. Moments later, it rang again. Reagan. Then Hunter’s ringtone. Her heart almost stopped.

  She got to her apartment without any memory of driving. Grabbing her purse, she stumbled inside. Her chest hurt like her heart had contracted but forgotten to let go.

  Her family would worry. She couldn’t speak to them, but at least she could text them she’d gotten home. Pressing voice mail, she listened.

  Her stepmom: “Honey, are you all right? What happened? Call me.”

  Reagan: “Sis? What’s going on? You ran out like your chair caught fire.” Pause. “But nobody noticed.” A snort of laughter erupted from Ariel’s nose despite her pain. Her sister was a terrible liar.

  Final message. Hunter’s. “Ariel, I’m coming over. We have some things to discuss.”

  No! She could not talk to him. Not now, maybe not ever. She fired off a group text—I’m Ok. Don’t worry—and charged for the bedroom. If Hunter was headed here, she had to leave. She tossed a few things into a tote bag then dashed out the door.

  *****

  Hunter grabbed his jacket from the closet.

  “What in the world made her run away?” his mother asked.

  “I’m going to find out.” He shrugged into his coat.

  “Hunter...where are you going?” Sienna’s sharp voice was plaintive, slurred. Her drunkenness didn’t surprise him.

  She’d downed wine like it was soda. He grimaced before turning around. His parents were standing right there, and he wasn’t so much of a cad that he would embarrass a woman in front of an audience, but Sienna had hung on him all evening, and the discomfort in his gut hinted she might have been part of the reason Ariel had fled.

  “Sienna, that’s none of your business.” He looked at his parents. “When she’s ready to leave, you shouldn’t let her drive.”

  “I’ll bring her home, or she can spend the night in one of the spare rooms,” his stepdad said.

  Hunter hoped it would be former. Sienna had spent way too much time in the Peyton home, but his stepfather was ignorant of Sienna’s machinations. He had a hunch his mother was catching on, though.

  “I’ll let you know when I find Ariel.” He left.

  On his way to his car, he called her cell again, but she didn’t pick up. He arrived at her apartment to find it dark and closed up. Her car was gone. He’d been so sure she would have run home. Dammit! Could she have gone to a friend’s instead? Stopped at a coffee shop?

  He, his mom, and Reagan had received a text so he knew she’d received his message. Was she avoiding him? Now that he’d made up his mind, he wouldn’t let her go. Not unless he heard from her lips that she no longer loved him.

  If she was on the run, where would she go?

  A hotel? A friend’s?

  No. Hunter smiled, confidence surging. He knew. He glanced at his watch. Good. He had enough time to stop at a couple of stores and pick up a few things.

  Chapter Three

  Ariel squinted in the darkness as she drove up the winding mountain road to her parents’ vacation cabin. They’d spent many happy weekends and holidays at the log home. Hunter had taught her to swim in the nearby lake one idyllic summer. Her childhood diary chronicled what he’d said and done, how he’d supported her, his hands strong and sure under her back, his attention all on her. Then reported how all of three of them had played, she and Reagan ganging up on Hunter to overpower him but ending up getting dunked instead when he’d picked up each girl and tossed her into the drink with a big splash.

  Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea.

  But it beat facing Hunter, and at least she could be alone to lick her wounds and regroup. Dear Diary. It finally happened. My heart broke today.

  She didn’t keep a journal any longer. What would be the point? She would be saying the same thing over and over. I love my stepbrother. He doesn’t love me, and we can’t be together. She’d filled notebooks and notebooks with laments just like that. What had ever happened to those volumes, she wondered?

  Ariel slowed, watching for the turnoff to the narrow lane. Tires crunched over the gravel as the car rolled up to the garage. She didn’t have the opener to raise the door, so she left her vehicle in the driveway and stomped through a light dusting of snow to the front door.

  She dropped the keys then couldn’t find the slot in the dark. By the time she let herself in, her fingers were half-frozen. She flipped the light switch then cranked up the thermostat. They kept the temperature just high enough to prevent the pipes from freezing. Ariel rubbed her cold hands together.

  A fire. That’s what she needed until the house warmed up.

  She returned to the great room. Somebody—her dad, probably—had set the fireplace with logs to be lit at the next visit. The day after Christmas at her parents’ house in town, the family had convened here, but Ariel had begged off, claiming she’d planned a ski trip.

  I can’t
spend my entire life running from him. She couldn’t continue to avoid family gatherings because he would be there.

  What I need is a backbone. A stiff upper lip. A set of balls, maybe. Like Sienna. If any woman has cojones, she does.

  Ariel used the gas-log lighter to the start the fire and in no time toasted her hands over the crackling flames. The central heating had begun to work its magic, too. Now that she was here and could think straight, she remembered all the things she should have brought with her.

  She’d packed PJs, flannel pants, and a long T-shirt style top, but nothing for the morning like fresh clothes or even underwear. She might have things here though. A robe maybe. Between her sister and her mother, all of whom kept a few items, she could find something to wear. She wouldn’t go naked.

  She left the warmth of the fire and snagged her tote. In her bedroom, she stripped out of the red dress, leggings, and boots she’d worn to the ill-fated party and donned her jammies. Her pink fluffy robe hung in the closet, and she slipped it on before going to the bathroom. She’d cried off most of her makeup already, but she removed the rest then washed and moisturized her face and brushed her teeth.

  Better. Far from perfect, not quite human, but better. If there was some ice cream or chocolate in the cabin, that would help a little, too.

  In the freezer, she found a near-empty gallon container of chocolate mint chip. Ice crystals had formed, and it was hard as a rock, but for emergency rations, it would do. Back in the great room, she tugged a comfy chair closer to the flames and curled up with the container and a soup spoon.

  How would she face this new paradigm? Her family was very close, social. How could she bear seeing Hunter and his wife at birthdays, holidays, barbecues? How could she attend their wedding and wish them well when she wished was she was the bride?

  Why couldn’t she get over her infatuation and fall in love with a nice man? Like Mark. Or any of the others she’d dated. Why did they all seem so boring, so lackluster? Why had she fallen for the one man she could not have?

 

‹ Prev