Silently, Dr. Mitford pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket and handed her one. "Calm down, Lily. It's okay."
"It's not okay," she sniffled. "He's so good to me, and you think he's hurting me. All my life, I never thought I could have this... It's not fair. Can't we just be happy?"
"For all of me, you can. Lily, I'm sorry this is so hard for you to talk about. But you understand, don't you, why I had to ask those questions? I'd rather be nosy with a hundred happy masochists than let one woman or child go to their grave because I couldn't be bothered."
She nodded, slowly getting herself under control, and blew her nose. "I understand," she managed to say, a little more calmly. "But it's... it's hard to talk about. Part of me thinks I must be crazy to want this, but... I do. More than anything."
"Then my unprofessional advice would be to hold onto it," he said, putting away his things. "One hour in a dark room after lunch, every day. Sensible work hours with frequent breaks. No caffeine after sunset, no more than one aspirin a day, and a cup of chamomile before bed. All right?"
"That's all?"
"That's all." He grinned a little. "Easy prescriptions, but I may be tempted to tan your hide if you don't follow them, missy. Lord knows if I could enforce all my recommendations with a good strapping, my life would be a hell of a lot easier."
"I think Rob would probably take care of that for you," Lily murmured with a blush.
"I bet he will. Do I have your permission to discuss your case with him?"
"Yes," Lily answered readily. "Of course. Does it have to be chamomile?" she added plaintively, making a face.
"It does." Then he smiled. "But I tell you what—my oldest daughter is a beekeeper, and I bet she'd love to meet you. Why don't I send her out with a little fresh honey to sweeten your cup?"
The idea pleased her at first, but she paused. "You'd just—you'd just tell her I like honey?" she said awkwardly.
"No. I'd tell her a real special, smart lady likes honey." He laid a gentle hand on her arm. "I would never reveal any sensitive information without your permission, Lily. Whether it's to Rob, my daughter, or the coffee shop gossips."
"Thank you," Lily said genuinely. "I'm grateful, I truly am."
* * * * *
A few evenings later, as Lily was washing dishes after dinner, Rob came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "How you doing, baby girl?" he said softly. "You seemed kind of keyed up during dinner."
She put the glass she was rinsing in the drying rack, and leaned back against him. "Good," she answered, closing her eyes. "A little restless—I'm not sure why. I've been a good girl, and haven't had any caffeine since lunch...."
He swept her fair hair off her neck, kissing it tenderly. "You want to go out tonight? I guess I've kept you kind of cooped up. We could grab a couple drinks down at the Silver Spur."
"I'd like that," Lily answered. "It's funny—I never even thought about socializing while I was out here. I guess I had a lot of dumb ideas about country people. I wouldn't have expected to meet someone like you, or Harry, or Laura Mitford."
The doctor's daughter, an energetic woman in her mid-thirties, had come by the morning before, leaving Lily with a big jar of wildflower honey and a sense of astonishment at how vibrant and lively the life she'd imagined so dull could really be. Laura had welcomed her eagerly, telling her about book groups, drum circles, and other activities Lily had never imagined finding in the middle of Montana.
Rob laughed softly. "I guess I wouldn't have expected to find such a sweet, old-fashioned city girl, so I can't fault you too much, baby." He stepped back, giving her a firm, controlling swat on the rear. "Go on and get ready, sweetheart. I'll take a shower."
Lily scampered off after a delicious little squeak, changing her comfortable jeans for sexy ones and pulling out the high-heeled boots that had been relegated to the back of the closet after she'd realized how useless they were for walking over any kind of rough terrain. She hesitated a moment or two over her top, then chose a fitted, scoop-necked blouse that was alluring without being overly revealing. Emerald studs that set off her eyes and a swipe of bright lipstick completed her toilet, and Rob laughed when he found her downstairs before him.
"I thought I'd found the perfect girl, and now I know it. I once dated a girl who made me wait half an hour every time I picked her up. And she'd come out all dolled up and not half as pretty as when she was rubbing down a horse out in the stables with no makeup and her hair back in a ponytail."
"Maybe you should've spanked her," Lily teased.
"Maybe. Ain't many women take to it as sweetly as my little girl, though," he said with a kiss.
It was a short drive into town, and only the diner and the bar still showed signs of life. The rest of the little community tended to close up when the sun went down. Rob had his arm around Lily's waist as he led her into the Silver Spur, and Lily knew the pride he felt at being with her, because she felt the same way. He was so handsome, with his crisp shirt rolled up to the elbows showing off his muscled forearms, and the aura of quiet strength that made him completely irresistible to Lily. The bar was just as she'd imagined—sawdust and peanut shells on the floor, country music played hot and loud by a band more enthusiastic than skilled. Some people were dancing, and Lily admired their skill as she ordered a dark beer at the bar. "Is that a two-step?"
"Sure is—don't you know how to dance?"
"Does tap count? I took classes for a few years when I was a kid." Lily's spirits were high from the lively energy of the place, and she burst into a simple soft-shoe, throwing her arms wide and laughing as she finished, to a smattering of applause and mirth from those nearby.
Rob drew her close, grinning. "Well, I guess you can dance, baby, so this should be easy to learn." He began to lead her in a two-step, whispering instructions in her ear. She fumbled a little, at first, but soon began to understand the rhythm with her body and the variations on the simple basic step. Soon Rob was twirling her expertly as Lily laughed, loud and delighted at the pleasure of moving with him in this new way, following his lead, trusting him to turn her hesitant dependency into something beautiful and joyful and free.
A high, triumphant blare from the steel guitar, and then the band settled into an old Conway Twitty song, soft and slow, and Rob pulled her close, whispering softly in her ear as they swayed together in a gentle rhythm that neither had to teach or learn. Lily rested her forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the peaceful comfort and desire that he brought her. "You're so good to me," she said in a voice that shook slightly.
"You don't deserve anything less, angel," he said tenderly. "I think about that damn fool ex-husband who let you go, and I'd want to beat the shit out of him if I didn't feel so sorry for him. You shine so much, baby, and any man who can't see that'd have to be a blind fool."
"Or an insurance agent," Lily said wryly, deflecting the pain from the deep wounds that resurfaced from his loving words. Fear, too. The last week had been like a beautiful dream, but they hadn't really talked about the future, and Lily didn't want to. What would happen when the house was clear? What did he want, really want, from her? What would this beautiful madness cost her?
"Or that," he chuckled, giving her a hard squeeze.
After a few more songs, they sat down again, just talking over their drinks, and Lily marveled at how easy it seemed, as though some part of her had come to mistrust what came easily. She'd thought it would be strange, shifting between being his docile little girl and his lover, but it wasn't. It was all the same. Care and tenderness and trust. Just as the band's shifts between high tempo dance music and slow love songs was welcome rather than jarring, so too was the movement between the different emotional places between them.
Rob drained his glass, then said, "I'll be right back, sweetheart. Call of nature."
When he was gone, Lily ordered them another round, chatting with the bartender, who, it turned out, also came from Seattle. He was about twenty years her junior, so
they didn't have many places in common, but he became animated as he told her how he'd tried to learn to throw fish around like they did at the Pike's Place Market. "Mom came home one day and every single fish she'd bought the day before was covered in carpet lint and stinking to high heaven. Boy, I thought I was going to meet my maker that afternoon," he laughed. "She was smart, though. She made my dad take me out and teach me to fish, and that's what I did every Saturday until I'd caught as many as I ruined."
Lily was about to follow up, but he gave a friendly nod, refilling her peanut bowl, and moved away. She was surprised for a moment, for though the place was lively, it wasn't what she'd call busy, but then she felt a presence at her elbow, and a hand at the small of her back. "There's my handsome man," she said flirtatiously.
"Now that's the kind of greeting a man likes to hear."
Lily froze, her spine going ramrod straight. It wasn't Rob's voice, and as she turned, she saw a stocky, sandy-haired man grinning at her. "I'm so sorry," she said, making the apology as cold and offended as possible. "I thought you were my friend."
He leaned his elbow against the bar, not removing the hand from her back. "Maybe I am," he teased. "I'm a real friendly guy. Pretty lady like you can have more than one friend, can't she?"
"I have lots of friends," Lily said coldly. "And none of them touch me without my permission." She turned back to scowl at her beer, determined to ignore him.
"Aw, c'mon, lemme buy you a drink." The offending hand was sliding lower—still decent, but only just barely.
"I've got one, in case you're blind," Lily snapped.
Then came the sound of Rob's voice, as welcome as cavalry trumpets to a beleaguered infantry, and the hand fell away from her back very suddenly. "If he ain't, that can change real easy," Rob said, his low voice as cold as gunmetal. "You like your eyes, Jack?"
"Rob!" The man's voice went up about an octave. "I didn't—hell, I didn't know she was your girl, I just came in. I was just havin' a little fun, trying to make her smile." He threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "No harm meant."
"Trying to make her smile?" Rob spat contemptuously. "You couldn't make a hyena giggle, Jack. Now maybe you'd like to apologize to Lily here."
"Sorry," he gabbled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. Just being friendly." He was backing away, wide-eyed, and Lily might have laughed at the spectacle if she hadn't been so intensely annoyed.
"Go find a hole in the wall and chat it up," Lily said flatly, taking a long drink from her beer. "You're about a thousand more times to get lucky that way." She leaned back against Rob, who had moved to stand protectively behind her, ignoring the figure in full retreat. "Ugh."
"Yeah," he agreed. "I'm sorry about that, baby. Got to talking with a fella outside the men's room, and next thing I knew that creep was all over you."
"It's okay," Lily said softly, twisting a little so she could look at him. "Not mad?" she asked, sounding slightly nervous.
"No, honey. Not your fault." He squeezed her tight. "Let's get home now, yeah?"
She agreed quickly, for the incident had spoiled the fun of the evening for her, and she was quiet and pensive on the ride home. He took her to his place—they spent most evenings at Lily's, but he had opened his home to her, too, and she'd gotten to know Larry and Joe, Rob's hands, at least a little. But the ranch house was quiet and still now, and Lily was glad for the peace and privacy as she put on the kettle for her obligatory bedtime cup of chamomile.
"Rob..." Lily looked over at him and, when he made a little inquiring noise, continued. "Fuck your little girl tonight?"
"Glad to, sweetheart," he answered, but he looked a little worried. "Are you all right?"
"I am," she answered. "I just... want to feel you in me tonight. Please. I need you," she concluded in a tiny voice that was nearly a whisper.
He was quickly on his feet at that, and reached around her to turn the kettle off. He drew her close with one arm around her waist, his other hand gripping the nape of her neck firmly in a way that made Lily shiver and melt. "All you have to do is ask, little girl," he breathed, kissing first her forehead, then her eyelids, her cheeks, and finally her mouth, rousing Lily from timid need to ardent desire very quickly as his skillful tongue took her mouth as fiercely as he would soon claim her whole body.
Heat rose between them, and Rob walked her back towards the kitchen table, pulling off her top and throwing it aside, then spinning her around so her back was to him. He deftly unhooked her bra and cast it away as well, his big hands coming up to cup and squeeze her tender breasts. He was gentle at first, but Lily's eager noises soon encouraged him to treat her a little more roughly, pinching and slapping her nipples to make them stand up hard. "I'm going to fuck you right here, baby," he growled, one hand coming down to unfasten her jeans. He stepped back just enough to push them, with Lily's panties, down to her knees, and then pressed forward again, crowding, controlling her with his body. "Bend over."
Lily obeyed immediately, anchoring herself on the old butcher-block table, presenting herself to him shamelessly. His. His. Her pulse drummed the truth of it, over and over, and the strength of his body behind her only confirmed that truth as he roughly spread her legs a little more, fumbling in his pocket for a condom before sliding it onto his hot, ready prick. One big hand splayed between her bare shoulders, pushing her down as he guided himself into her wet, eager quim. "Such a good girl. Always ready for me," he praised.
Lily didn't really respond except to mewl softly, shoving her hips back demandingly, wanting to feel the whole length of him inside her. "Hard, Rob, please, please," she gasped eventually.
"Hard," he confirmed in a low voice, thrusting roughly inside her until Lily felt pain as he bumped her cervix. She didn't care. She wanted it, wanted to be split open by him, filled with him, again and again. Every thrust said "his." Every thrust said "safe." Safe, owned, his. No choices, no worries. Lily didn't use any more words, but she cried out sharply each time he slammed deeply within her, forcing her hips forward into the table. She was needy and tender and so wet for him, and before Lily even had time to consider it, her pleasure came upon her, the tight coil inside her belly releasing with such force that she yowled like a cat in heat, bucking violently.
Rob didn't stop fucking her—probably couldn't have stopped at that point—but he growled, one hand moving to twist in her hair painfully. "Did you come?"
"Mmmm... nnn... I'm sorry," Lily gasped at last, once she had recovered enough to understand her own disobedience. "Didn't mean to...."
"Bad girl," he scolded, continuing the rough, punishing thrusts that were becoming uncomfortable indeed for Lily's flesh, now oversensitive from her orgasm. "I warned you, baby." He slammed into her several more times, then came hard, groaning at his pleasure. He suspended himself above her, braced on both strong arms so as not to crush her slender frame, considerate even in his displeasure, then pulled out, and disposed of the condom. "Stand up," he ordered, fixing his jeans.
Lily stood slowly, turning to face him, staring at the floor so she wouldn't have to see his anger. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. "It was just so fast."
"You know what you're going to get?" he asked, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look up at the stern, uncompromising lines of his face.
"Cold shower and a spanking," Lily said in a small voice, shivering already in anticipation of the punishment.
Rob nodded. "That's right. Disobedient girls need to be punished, so they remember their place." He released her, set to stripping her until she was completely naked. He kicked her discarded clothes aside, and took her wrist tightly in his hand, leading her to the bathroom.
Lily was tearing up already, more at his anger than at the prospect of the punishment, fearful though it was likely to be. She climbed docilely into the tub at his swat on her behind. Rob didn't waste any time in turning the shower on full blast, icy cold, and though Lily had meant to be very good for her punishment, the shock and startle of it mad
e her rear back out of the spray. His lips pressed together, and he didn't scold her, but he twisted his hand in her hair again, dragging her back under the nozzle.
It was horrible. Every muscle in her body contracted painfully, trying to protect itself from the shock of the cold water, and she was shivering convulsively very quickly. "H-how l-l-long?" she asked pitifully.
"Two minutes for coming without permission, and one more for trying to resist your punishment," he said sternly. "That number won't go down, but it can sure go up, so I'd suggest you start behaving."
"I'm sorry," Lily whispered, tears now flowing down her cheeks because nothing, nothing was as awful as this, and she felt so vulnerable and miserable, as naked before his anger as she was under the constant stream of cold water. She closed her eyes, counting in her head. One Mississippi...two Mississippi... She counted slowly, not allowing herself to hurry, for the punishment would last as long as he said, not as long as she thought it should. She had just reached one hundred seventy-five when the water went off, and she clung to the shower wall in relief, sobbing hard.
Rob tossed her a towel. "Dry yourself off. I'll be right back."
Bereft and miserable, Lily toweled hers body roughly, trying to bring some warmth to her white, chilly skin with her vigorous rubbing. When she was mostly dry, she climbed out of the tub to stand on the bath mat, naked, still shivering and crying a little, waiting for him. He returned in a few moments, tossing Lily one of her dresses and a light cardigan. "Get dressed," he ordered.
"Yes, Rob," she whispered, miserable at the lack of care and tenderness. But it was her fault. She'd disobeyed. She'd earned it. And if she could just get through whatever hell he was going to unleash on her poor butt in the next half-hour, then she could be his good girl again. Lily clung desperately to that thought as she dressed, pulling the thin cardigan tightly around her. It wasn't a particularly chilly evening, but she rather wished he'd brought her a parka instead.
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