by Qwillia Rain
“Don't let Dottie fool you, girl. I barely get one whenever we buy your treats.” Harold eased out of his seat and pulled his wallet from his pocket as Ariel stacked the plates sitting on the table and picked them up.
Both women watched Harold shuffle to the register. His wife leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Ariel, “I do keep him from getting too many of your cupcakes. It isn't good for his heart.”
Ariel glanced toward the register where Harold teased Sadie into a blush as he paid the check for the late lunch and special-ordered cupcakes. “Is Harold having heart problems?”
Dottie scooted along the seat and reached for her walker, a wicked smile lifting her lips as she waggled her eyebrows. “Oh no. Harold has the constitution of a bull. Healthy as a horse.”
Behind her, Ariel could hear DeeDee laughing with the only other late customer as the waitress followed him to put up the CLOSED sign and lock the front door. Ariel put down the plates she held to focus on helping Dottie gain her footing and settle into place between the supports of her walker. “Then how are the cupcakes bad for his heart?”
“Why, it's the chocolate, dear.”
“The chocolate?” Ariel was perplexed. She stepped back as Dottie shifted to face the door.
“Yes, dear.” Dottie smiled sweetly. “Makes him horny as all get-out, chocolate does. Can't keep him off me. Why, he gets so riled up, he'll go all night. I'm afraid Harold'll get so excited, he'll have a heart attack right in the middle and like to crush the air right outta me.”
Ariel fought to keep from bursting out laughing. The stroke of a male hand over her bottom followed by a firm squeeze spun Ariel around to face the culprit, half-worried it could be Harold.
She reached for the hand and missed it by millimeters.
“Sorry I'm late.” Dane grinned. He offered an innocent look, despite the hearty chuckle from the elderly gentleman approaching them.
“Can't say as I blame you, son.” Harold winked at Dane.
Despite the slight shuffle to his walk and the heavy blue veins standing out on the backs of his hands, the twinkle in the older man's brown eyes made him appear decades younger than An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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most people expected. Ariel wasn't surprised by Dane's stunned expression. The Douglases had that effect on a lot of people.
“Sometimes a handsome bottom just begs to be pinched.” Harold dropped one hand to fondle his wife's ample cheeks.
“Harold!” The reprimand sounded more amused than angry as Dottie looked over her shoulder at her husband.
“Oh come on, Dot. Can't have the younguns thinking there's no fun after seventy.” Leaning toward Dane, Harold chuckled. “Woman hasn't been able to keep her hands off me in fifty years.” He patted Dottie's bottom again. “It's like that donkey said in the cartoon the great-grandkids brought over: I like big butts and I cannot lie.”
“Hmph.” Dottie shook her head, handing her purse and the package of cupcakes to her husband before taking a long look at Dane. Turning to Ariel, she warned, “Keep your eye on this one, young lady.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
But Mrs. Douglas wasn't finished; as she shuffled forward a step, she nodded. “Yup, he looks to have the same stamina. And I'll bet my cupcakes he loves the back door as much as Harold does.”
“Dot, you know you like it that way,” Harold admonished. “Leastwise that's what you've been telling me for nigh on fifty years, woman.”
“What was that song again, Harold?” Dottie changed the subject without answering.
Harold repeated himself. “I like big butts and I cannot lie.”
Ariel could see Dane was at a loss for words as he watched the couple toddle to the door, Dottie's purse hanging from the crook of Harold's left elbow, the box of cupcakes held to his chest in the same hand. Harold mumbled the rap song as he patted his wife's bottom every few steps with his free hand. Dottie didn't mind. In fact, she hummed right along with her husband as DeeDee unlocked the door and held it open for them. Once they'd left, she shut and locked the door after them.
Dane's hand smoothed over Ariel's ass again, then paused to rub his thumb at the top of the crease separating the cheeks. A shiver rushed through her. Leaning close, he whispered against her ear, “I hope we're as hot for each other in fifty years as they are.” He didn't wait for her response as he walked down the hall toward the office.
From the register and the door, Sadie and DeeDee chortled with laughter. Whether it was from the display Dottie and Harold had put on or the stunned expression on her face, Ariel wasn't sure.
Ariel's heart pounded and blood rushed through her veins, thrumming in her ears. Visions of Dane standing beside her, patting her ass, and chuckling over the embarrassment it created in some imaginary grandchild swam through her mind. Anxiety and fear brought the sweat to her palms, and her head began to throb. It was too easy to fall into the little fantasy of being with him a year, five years, a dozen years, from now. But what happens when he leaves? When he walks away. Or worse, what if he were taken from her?
Ten years of coping, of living day to day without her parents, hadn't erased the pain of their deaths. A part of her ached to have her father's arms hold her close, to have him tell her how 98
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proud he was of her. To have her mother smile at the wild hairdos Ariel wore and the crazy colors she dyed her hair.
She'd had her parents for seventeen years. It wasn't long enough.
Now Dane is teasing me about decades? No. Her stomach knotted at the thought of him leaving at the end of the month when Alayna returned. What kind of basket case would she be if she let him have one year?
She hid her fear beneath a snort of derision. “Yeah, whatever,” she muttered loudly enough for DeeDee and Sadie to hear. Keeping her mask in place, Ariel pushed through the doors to the kitchen. “It's a game,” she whispered to herself, wandering mechanically through the required steps of cleaning up and shutting down the kitchen. “He didn't mean what he said. When Al gets back, he'll leave, and things will go back to normal.”
Her heart slowed its racing beat. The familiar procedures soothed her nerves. “Nothing to worry about,” she mumbled, stacking sealed containers and transferring them to the cooler.
“Nothing at all.”
* * *
Ariel turned from locking the door behind DeeDee and Sadie to find Dane leaning against the tiled counter next to the register. His expression was remote, cool, but the glint of amusement in his eyes teased her with a promise for more.
“You, Tink, need a spanking.”
She rolled her eyes and sashayed toward him, refusing to hide the grin on her lips. “You and what army, surfer boy?”
“I'm sure that ass of yours was no virgin to a paddle or a firm hand before I got hold of it.”
Dane came away from the counter and met her in the middle of the dining area.
Chairs were stacked neatly on top of the tables. The polished wood floor gleamed in the afternoon sunlight that filtered through the closed blinds over the windows and door.
Ariel shrugged but didn't admit to anything.
“You can't tell me your parents didn't take you over their knee at least once in your childhood?” He stepped closer, crowding into her personal space.
Ariel didn't back down. Her hand lifted to smooth over the tie hanging loosely beneath his collar. The suit jacket he'd worn earlier must have been left in the office. “They did. When I got caught.”
“And when was the last time you got caught, sprite?” Dane wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands smoothing over the heart-shaped part of her anatomy under discussion.
“I was eleven. Mom found me poking holes in her diaphragm.”
Dane's laughter echoed in the quiet room and vibrated through her chest, stirring the heat simmering low in her belly.
“Why would you do something like that?” He cupped her bottom and tugged her closer.
“I wanted a ba
by brother, and my parents weren't cooperating.” Ariel smiled, remembering how appalled her mother had been that Ariel even knew what it was, let alone how it prevented pregnancy.
“Well, you've been sorely lacking in some discipline, young lady,” Dane informed her with a sharp swat to her bottom.
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Ariel jumped at the sting, but she gasped at the fire that seared her pussy. “And what makes you say that?” She tried to ease from his hold, but he wouldn't release her.
“Benton Baking and Grill.”
She blinked up at him. “Are you talking about the muffin tins I ordered the day before yesterday?”
Dane nodded.
“Give me a break. We've had requests for jumbo muffins—”
“Who's in charge of the office?” Dane asked, holding her gaze without cracking a smile.
“Come on.” She groaned. “You can't be serious?”
“Who's in charge of the office, Ariel?”
She crossed her arms and pinched her lips together for a moment before snapping, “You are.”
“Did you talk to me about ordering the pans?”
A glare, a huff, then, “Yes, but—”
“Shall I show you what happens when a certain person breaks the rules?”
Ariel knew her eyes were wide. Arousal vibrated through her body. A building thrum worked through her blood into her center, constricting her breath with the varied images skittering through her head. Her heart thumped in her chest so hard, she was sure Dane could hear it. He can't possibly mean—There's no way he'd really—Not again… She swallowed, unsure if the moisture coating her palms was induced by fear or excitement.
There was no denying her panties were becoming uncomfortably damp, but she couldn't really be getting turned on by the thought of Dane spanking her. Could she?
“Shall I?” Dane prompted again.
“I'm not sure,” Ariel hedged, too turned on to say no, but too nervous to say yes.
His fingers lifted to smooth over her cheek and jaw. “Neutral territory, remember. We can take it in stages, Tink. Baby steps if you want. Or you can say no.”
Ariel cursed the weakness she'd shown him. Swallowing the bit of fear, she stood tall and met his gaze. “Okay, we can take it in stages. But you have to quit calling me Tink.”
Dane chuckled and shook his head. “Stages it is, and no, Tink stays.”
“Why?”
Dane turned away from her and took his time to push most of the tables in the center of the dining area close to the booths on each wall. “Because that's who you remind me of.”
Ariel thought about it for a moment. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him, sure her disbelief was plain on her face. “Are you saying I remind you of some bitchy little fairy?”
Dane laughed again, striding to the one table he hadn't pushed to the side. Situated closer to the counter than the door, it was centered between the booths on both walls with a clear view of the front of the café and at an angle to the hallway leading to the office. He began to pull off the chairs stacked on top of it. “Not a bitchy little fairy, love.”
Ariel snorted and propped her hands on her hips. “Excuse me, but I did see the movie, and that fairy was a bitch. And pushy. And—”
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Finished with removing the chairs, Dane stepped in front of her and covered her lips with his hand. “Not a bitch, Tink. Just feisty. She knew what she wanted, and she fought for it.
Exactly like you.” Leaning down so his forehead rested on hers, Dane continued, “She was also very curvy. Sexy. Sensual.”
Ariel swallowed and held his gaze. He slipped his hand away and slowly dragged his fingertips over her lips, down her chin, and along her throat. She wasn't sure what she could say to his comments. “Oh…well, okay. So if you think I'm Tinker Bell, who does that make you?
Peter Pan?”
The gleam in his eyes and the wicked grin lifting his lips had the cream inside her melting.
“Oh no, Tink. Peter Pan could never have handled his sprite.”
Ariel forced her buttery legs to hold her up. Fuck, this is too much. “Then who?”
“You know who.” His fingers worked the buttons on her chef's coat loose before he shoved it off her shoulders and tossed it onto the counter. He stripped her tank top and bra away and then dropped his fingers to the fastening of her slacks. “Take off your shoes.”
Ariel toed off her shoes, fighting the thoughts zinging through her mind.
“Who?” she asked again.
Dane pushed her slacks over her hips, then crouched to pull her panties down as he slid her pants off and helped her step out of them. His warm breath blew across her wet pussy as he answered, “Which character did Tinker Bell torment and tease the most? Who was the only one she harassed without end?”
“You don't mean?” But Ariel could easily picture it. He might not have the pencil-thin mustache, long, black, curly hair, or the metal hook, but he practically exuded the swagger and confidence and pure give-'em-hell attitude of a pirate.
“If you're Tink, that makes me Captain Hook.” Dane winked at her as he rose.
“He was the villain,” Ariel reminded him.
He shrugged. “One man's villain is another woman's mate.”
Ariel could feel her body sway toward him, her breasts tingling, nipples taut, limbs trembling for his touch. The taunt in his words, the hidden message, couldn't be what he actually thought. Trying to regain control, she drew a deep breath and argued. “He was evil.”
Dane slipped the tie from his collar and lifted her hands. His lips brushed her knuckles.
“No, my pixie, not evil, merely alternatively motivated.”
It wasn't until he tugged the knot tight that Ariel realized Dane had used his silk necktie to bind her wrists. “Wait, no. You didn't say—” She tried to twist free of the binding.
Dane gripped her forearms, stilling her struggles. “Shh. Haven't you ever been tied up?”
Ariel shook her head. Her heartbeat calmed as he stroked his hands over hers. “No.”
“Trust me?”
The low, soft request caused Ariel to clench her inner muscles, trying to keep the moisture from spilling out. Some escaped onto her thighs, betraying her passion. Even knowing he waited for an answer, she hesitated. No warning sounded in her head. No cautious voice or frisson of unease stirred within her. Her gaze was still connected to his. “Yes.”
The smile started in his eyes. Full of pride and satisfaction, it reached his lips and warmed Ariel's soul. A niggling voice of caution finally piped up and was immediately squashed. Later.
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She'd listen to it afterward, but at this moment, the fact that Dane was proud of her willingness to trust him filled her with a sense of accomplishment she hadn't felt before.
“When you broke the rules, Tink, how did your father punish you?”
The cool question threw Ariel for a moment. She'd assumed the lesson he would teach her would center around sex. Hard, fast sex. Perhaps even a command to suck him off or please him without being allowed to achieve climax herself.
“Come on, tell me. How did your father punish you?” Dane asked again as he led her, using the length of loose tie, toward the table.
“Sometimes a spanking, but mostly he wouldn't let me help in the kitchen.”
“Ah. Keeping you from your cooking must have been torture?”
She nodded.
“I promise never to keep you from your pots and pans, Tink, but we'll have to find out what will motivate you to follow my rules.”
Her body tingled at the fantasies playing in her head. Dane taking her over his knee again, using his hand, maybe a leather or wooden paddle, or even the sting of thongs applied to her backside, pushed up the heat in her body. When did pain start being an aphrodisiac to me?
“Lean over the table,” he ordered, holding t
he end of the tie as he stood beside her.
She did as she was told, barely stifling the gasp when her warm body made contact with the cool wooden surface.
“Arms in front of you.”
She held her hands out, watching as he rearranged himself to face her across the table. His hands worked at something underneath. The tie binding her pulled taut, then loosened before he stood up. A quick tug confirmed he had secured her to the table.
Her belly and breasts pressed into the wood beneath her. The muscles in her thighs and calves were stretched, but not too uncomfortable. If she remained like this for long, it might be a different story. Drawing on a bit of bravado, she looked up at him. “Now what, captain?”
He leaned down and braced his forearms beside hers. “Now, my Tink, we see what kind of punishment works best on my naughty pixie.”
She stretched her head up and slid her lips over his. “How naughty would you like me to be? I'm sure with the right incentive…”
Dane nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “I do like when you're naughty, love, but not when you break the rules.” He pulled away to better meet her gaze, drew a deep breath, and smiled down at her. “You're wet and ready, but it's important you learn that I'm in charge of the office. Supply orders, schedules, and purchases must go through me.”
“Now, just you—”
“No.” His tone was implacable. Rising, he stepped around the table until she could barely see him over her shoulder.
The first firm swat landed without warning. The sting along her bottom made Ariel yelp and push up onto her tiptoes. “That hurt!”
Another slap landed against the other cheek. “It's supposed to. And no more than it did the last time I spanked you.”
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Four more swats landed, two to each plump cheek, but Ariel didn't cry out again. She clenched her teeth and glared dry-eyed at the closed blinds on the front door.
The pain was bearable. Dane wasn't applying any real force to his slaps. If he thought a few swats on the ass were going to keep her from running the café the way she wanted, he was sorely mistaken.
When he stepped around to face her, her determination must have been clear in her face.