by Shirl Anders
She tried to push her one hand near the bed to shove her body off his thighs, but his hand on that side knocked her hand off at the exact same moment his other hand smacked her bare butt. Loudly. She was so shocked, the sting or the fact he’d spanked her several more smacking times was delayed in her mind.
Until she cried, “Ow!”
Then the burn caught up with her! She shook her ass, trying to move it away from his still-spanking hand, while she tried unsuccessfully to get off his thighs. Her breasts bounced like the big mounds they were and her legs kicked, but of course she was no struggle for Zeb to keep her right where he wanted her.
Smack! Smack! Smack! “Zeb! Ow! Stop this!” She fell forward with her ass burning as he spanked her. She couldn’t stop him. “Please,” she pleaded.
“God, you have a spankable ass,” he uttered, with his hand still swatting her as she whimpered. He liked it? “Hottest fucking ass I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll be good,” she tried.
His hand stopped, and she shuddered.
“Did you say you’ll be good for me, sweetness?”
“I don’t know what this is, Zeb, but I will be good,” she swore, while her buttocks burned. Then the strangest thing happened. Her nipples drew taut, her thighs inched open, and her hips humped her mound lightly on his thighs. No. No way! No way was she freaking horny.
His hand rubbing her sore butt was also moving her mound more into his thigh, and suddenly a moan escaped her. She coughed hard, trying to hide it, jerking over his thighs. Her head was dizzy in the downward position. His deep chuckle did not just tweak her clit.
“So show me this good, Carly,” he said, not letting her up, while intimately rubbing her naked ass, which moved parts of her over other parts of him.
She should be screaming at him, but instead, after four ecstasy-laced climaxes in multiple positions, what came out of her mouth was—
“I would, um ... maybe call you to ask you, um, if I could come over next time.” God, was she a teenager? “But you had my panties!” Yep, she was.
He outright laughed. Then when he settled down to get serious, he lifted her and put her on the bed, and he crawled over her. His light blue eyes were shiver-worthy intense.
“My woman to keep safe,” he growled, in the deepest voice she’d heard him use yet. “My woman’s not fucking getting raped. I want no one seeing my woman’s barely covered tits and sexy ass but me. You feeling me, Carly.”
Her eyes were wide and her lips parted as she nodded. That ache that wasn’t in her sex from a badass man spanking her curled into a pang. My woman?
“Carly, we started something here. I want all of it. After this, you don’t want my brand of all of it ... you don’t come back.” He reached between them to cup her mound, and she instantly moaned as he held her. “But remember this, sweetness. You came to me.”
SIX] Him Hard, Her Soft
She came back—
Carly walked outside, got the coffees, fruit, and donuts she’d taken from the comp room at the casino hotel, and she brought them back inside. Zeb watched over her as she did it. Not keeping her there, but making certain no questionable low-grade motel patrons hanging around bothered her.
Of course, all that was after her fifth climax, and Zeb proved to her that his spanking her did turn her on. So much so she went down on him in the shower afterward, until his fists hit the tile and he groaned harshly, then he’d lifted her off her knees to wash her hair. Which didn’t need it again, but no way was she telling him that.
Zeb watched Carly put the coffees in the room’s microwave, then push the button to get them hot. He sat on the chair by the window, glancing out at his bike as he bit into an apple Carly had brought with her. She was cute, trying to fluff her hair with her fingers in front of the mirror, while the coffees heated.
He sure as hell hadn’t expected her. He didn’t mean that morning either. No, he hadn’t expected her at all. He certainly hadn’t expected the things she made him feel. That thing that happened earlier—him spanking her—he’d never done anything like it.
Yeah, he might have wanted to, but he’d never done it. No damn way he was ever telling Carly that. No, he was going to own it. Gladly. Maybe he needed the feelings of control after the uncontrollable mess with his wife. Maybe it was Carly and something about their chemistry together. Yeah, in just the same way he knew he’d met the “one,” this edge was what they were going to be together. Him hard, her soft.
He took another bite of the apple. He’d taken a big gamble telling Carly she didn’t like things the way he was laying them down, not to come back. He’d lied, because he would have found a way to convince her. He’d never had a woman, any damn woman, respond to him like Carly did. Just another certainty that made him know he’d found something he’d never known in his gut before—
The woman for him.
Damn well lucky he’d found her on the dead-end dregs of his marriage. Because if he’d run across Carly while still faithfully married, he’d have had to head the other direction. All the while knowing he was leaving that special one behind that was meant for him. So the craziest damn thing—he was half-assed grateful to Tula May, his lying and cheating and soon-to-be ex-wife.
Ding.
Carly skipped to the microwave, swinging that sassy ass of hers, and he watched every moment. She went up on her bare toes, opening the door and pulling out one of the coffees. Then she settled back on her feet with her elegant nose scrunching as she lifted the plastic lid to look inside the cup.
She blew.
Inwardly he groaned at her puckered lips. Then she stuck a pinky out and dipped it into the cup.
“Ouch,” she whispered, hurriedly withdrawing her finger. She kept that cute finger lifted as she replaced the top, and then swung her hips to him.
“It’s really hot, honey. Be careful,” she said, with a serious but warm look.
He set his partially eaten apple on the windowsill, and he leaned forward to hook her waist, which he brought to him and her nice bottom along to settle on his lap.
“Careful, baby,” she warned, holding the coffee up and that pinky out.
How the hell did the girl for him end up being so girly? He’d never have figured that. He took the coffee out of her hand, then around her back he used his other hand to catch her hand and he lifted it, until he could suck her pinky into his mouth.
“Zeb,” she whispered, as her fine ass got more comfortable on his lap.
He soothed her hurt pinky with his tongue, then slowly released it. “Call me that again,” he asked in a low voice.
Her brows scrunched as she looked at his lips with her pinky near them. “Zeb? Oh—” She was lightly breathless. “Honey?”
“Yeah.” He blew on her pinky.
“Honey,” she all but purred.
Man, he felt that deep.
He licked the tip of her pinky. “It hurt?”
“Not now.” Her arm came around his neck.
“How about your sassy ass? It still hurt?” He knew his gaze glittered.
Her eyelashes dipped and her cheeks reddened. “That was just awful,” she declared with a stage whisper.
He outright laughed, setting the coffee down, then he asked, “That why you came so hard after I paddle your sexy bare ass, sweetness?”
She glared at him with her lips bowing. He hooked her neck and brought her in for a kiss, which he did until she melted onto his chest. Her arms wound over his shoulders and her mouth was teaching him wicked, passionate movements when one of their cells rang.
It was Carly’s, and she was across the room as he watched her pull her cell from the embossed snakeskin purse she carried that had a big leather bow on it. He shook his head at that bow. His girl was girly. Then he saw her cell and nearly laughed. It was freaking pink. But he sobered a moment later at the cloud of emotion across her pretty features. It straightened his spine as she took the call, while glancing at him.
He got the vibe to be quiet,
and he gave her a chin nod.
“Rick, I told you this was a rough one and it’d be a few days.”
Her dickwad husband ... Zeb planted his feet on the ground and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs.
“Babe,” she added with a frown, and Zeb knew her husband had just admonished her for not calling him sweet wifey things. Damn it. He wanted to growl. He could barely imagine how Carly felt, and she wasn’t as into seeing the light of not telling old Rick his jig was up.
“So you wouldn’t be there anyways,” she said, then she added an insincere “babe.”
“No, nothing’s wrong.” She took some of her hair and began chewing on the end of it as she talked and circled slowly in place. “I told you it was rough.”
“You called him?” she exclaimed, with her eyes darting to Zeb, and he half rose out of the chair. “Can’t believe you did that. What did he say?”
Zeb eased back a second later when she looked relieved. “Why do you care if I drive my car,” she said next. “No, you can’t help me with the pageant.”
Then she turned her back to him. “I don’t know why you care about that pageant, Rick. It’s a pain in the ass and I’m still not happy Vincent shoved it off on me.” Then she listened, but said quickly, “Oh, just go do your rodeo clowning, Rick Shaw. Goodbye!”
She twirled toward Zeb, and exclaimed, “I can’t stand it!” Zeb stood and went to her, where she face-planted in his chest. “You need to tell me again why I can’t confront him.”
Zeb brushed under her hair and grasped her nape. “Did he say he’s going to be out all day?” She nodded against his chest. “That’s why, sweetness.”
“Because of the question of why did he come back to me?” she muttered, but her lips were moving on his muscle and it felt good.
He squeezed her nape. “Yeah.” Then he added, “You do not ever call me babe. You feeling me, Carly?”
She turned her nose up to his chin, and her breasts pressed deeper into him. “That’s not hard to promise, honey.”
“So come on, your house is clear, let’s go get some of your stuff.” Maybe he’d get some inspiration looking at their place about what the hell was going on.
They got dressed, with Carly complaining all the way to the truck she’d drove up in that she felt naked.
Zeb took the keys from her and persuaded her toward the passenger side, as he asked, “A thong’s going to make you feel more dressed?”
No way was he giving back that souvenir. She pouted at him as she sat in the seat, swinging her legs in. He lifted his gaze to her face while not reminding her she flew in there that morning in what little she had covering her. Because besides doing it unescorted, or at least with him expecting her, he did not see her having no panties on as a bad thing, as long as he was by her side.
“You’ll be in the truck, no one will see,” he said, after just seeing the outlines of her bare butt swaying through the sunlight and that gauzy dress she was wearing. “We get you home, you change. It’ll be cool.” And he’d still have her panties.
He kissed her and she remained stubborn for a second, then she melted. To his bones he liked he could melt her like that with just his lips. Then when he straightened, he saw Coco over the roof of the truck. She was put together from head to toe, as if she were going out for an expensive day at the spa or shopping. Her hair was curled and twisted up, makeup applied with lots of berry-colored lipstick. She was wearing wide-legged white pants and a white jacket, kind of like they matched. Maybe it was a woman’s suit or something, but she was tiptoe-skipping toward him wearing really high heels again.
“Zeb,” she called. Carly’s neck arched up to him as he glanced down at her.
“Tell me that’s not what you call suburb,” Carly muttered as she pushed back out of the seat, but she stayed close in by the truck. And he saw her hug her chest.
“I just wanted to show you this,” Coco said, as she reached them a little breathless. Well, okay, he might be thinking that Carly was kind of cute girly, but Coco took the prize on high maintenance.
“That’s Coco. That’s Carly,” he said between them, and he liked Carly reaching forward.
“Nice to meet you, Coco.”
Coco’s smile came big as she took Carly’s hand. That was quite a transformation, and his eyes widened as he saw Carly’s widen too.
“So good to meet you, Carly,” Coco said with sincerity and enthusiasm. “I just don’t know anyone here, and your Zeb was very kind to me.”
Carly glanced over her shoulder at him, and he moved to hug her back at her smile. “I’m glad he helped you,” Carly said, while looking up at him, then she turned to look at Coco, who still held her hand.
“I can see you two are going out, but could you take a quick look at this picture. Maybe you’ve seen him.” Coco lifted her other hand to show them a picture of a slightly balding man, but probably Coco’s age, in a suit standing in front of a building that had a sign, “Maxwell Accounting Firm.” “That’s my husband, Gordon,” Coco whispered. Then she added, “He’s missing.”
Carly squeezed Coco’s hand. “Is it serious?” she asked, looking closely at the man. “I mean the missing part? Do you really think anything has happened to him?” Zeb’s hand cupped her waist from behind, and she really liked him offering solid and close support at her back. Carly could clearly see why Zeb offered to help Coco, who seemed nice, but a bit lost.
“Um—” Coco bit her bottom lip. “Not the police yet. I’m sure he’s in this town, and when I find him, he’ll explain it all.”
Zeb cleared his throat. “Not seen him, Coco. But I’ll keep a lookout, while you should go and get a better room at Redrock Casino’s hotel. It has more security and better customers.”
Carly let Coco’s hand go. “I can get you a discount at Redrock, my boss runs it, and I haven’t seen your husband either. Sorry.”
Coco’s pretty eyes got bright, and Carly thought she might be on the verge of tears, but she was holding it back. “Thank you so much for looking,” she exclaimed. “And caring. I’ll think about that room. Now you two go on and have a wonderful day in this sunshine.”
Coco whirled around with her perfume swishing them in scent, then she clicked her heels back toward her room, and her free hand, not holding the picture, rose with a backhanded wave. “Loved meeting you too. Bye bye, sugars.”
“Sugars,” Carly whispered, as Zeb growled the endearment, then louder he said, “Redrock, Coco, I’m telling you.”
Coco didn’t look back, but kept waving, as Zeb started to mutter, “Going to have to watch out for her ... just know it.”
Carly hugged him, turning away from watching Coco enter her room next to Zeb’s. She squeezed him tight. “Zeb Andersen, badass biker, military man, who also saves suburban women from—”
He squeezed her back, pushing the air out of her lungs before she could finish as he growled, “Badass, is it?”
She leaned against him, nodding with her lips very close to his mouth. “Badass hot,” she rumbled in her best Zeb growl.
His lips chuckled over hers as they kissed, and she forgot to worry that Finn, the owner of Rowdie’s, might see her. That’s what astounding sex and a new smoking hot affair did to a person—it blew their mind right out of them.
And she’d loved it.
SEVEN] You Saved My Life
Zeb stood by the breakfast bar in Carly’s two-story house, looking through the mail piled there, while Carly packed some bags in the other room. He looked at each envelope with part of his attention as he spoke.
“So he’s a rodeo clown?” Zeb asked with a voice loud enough Carly could hear.
He set an insurance envelope to one side, then a bank statement with only Carly’s name on top of it. Her dickwad was seriously uncool leaving the house with so many undone repairs. Just walking in Zeb had seen the garage door was not closed to the bottom and whacked off its tracks, a broken rail, broken doorbell, and a busted outside light. Not to mention the tor
n screen door, and then inside he’d quit adding them up after he saw the dishwasher half pulled out like a forgotten project.
“It’s one of the things he does. Only I thought he wasn’t doing it anymore. But maybe with the rodeo in town they asked him to fill in.” Her voice floated out of the bedroom. “He’s a jack of all trades, always trying a new scheme. I think the latest is warehouse rolling doors. There’s some new kind that will revolutionize the docking door system.”
“Yeah, right,” Zeb muttered under his breath.
It looked like he and Carly were the same on one thing: neither of them had been a very good judge of character about the depths of their spouses’ psyches. Zeb had thought Tula was one kind of person, but after they married that had all changed, like she’d been gaming him or something.
Just a glimpse of Carly’s life and he could see that was happening to her also. He wondered if she saw it or ignored it or didn’t have a clue. Then there was the other issue: he’d heard her saying on the phone that she was going to judge the beauty pageant and he’d yet to tell her Tula was likely in it. That was not going to go over very well with Carly—
“Bastard!” Carly screeched from the other room. “Lowlife, two-timing slug!”
Zeb grabbed the mail he’d set aside, shoving it into his back pocket, and he headed to the bedroom. He glanced into the room, and Carly whirled on him with a skimpy yellow bra held up, which if he was any judge would no way fit her stellar chest.
“This is not my bra,” she exclaimed, with bruises of hurt in her eyes, but also anger. Her other hand lifted while shaking, and he saw a necklace with a silver stallion charm on it.
Damn it.
He knew whose necklace that was.
“This is not mine either!” She tossed both down on the bed. “He had them right there in his coat thrown on the floor. In our bedroom!”
Carly was married—Zeb knew it. The necklace was Tula’s, and he should be pissed about that, but when his eyes turned and caught sight of her marriage bed, it made him simmer with feelings he’d never felt before. Being maddened with possessiveness was at the top of those sudden emotions.