Leave Me Breathless: A second chance romance

by Douglas, Katie

  “I can walk by myself you know!” she grumbled as I placed her down by one of the empty stalls.

  “You asked me to carry you. Twice. Maybe stop asking for things you don’t want,” I chided her. “Or admit to yourself that you really do want them,” I added with a wink, before turning and heading back to the tack room, confident that she’d follow just as soon as she’d stopped being surprised.

  * * *

  Dylan

  Bob had left with the promise that he would send a squad car to keep an eye on the property. Despite his general demeanor, which radiated willingness to assist with the problem, I couldn’t help being relieved when he’d gone. Lawson and Clay vanished, professing their need to go and do other things, and I was left alone with Jake again.

  “It’s getting on for dinner time, and I think you should eat and drink something other than soup,” Jake told me.

  The way he was taking care of me should have been stifling, but instead it felt good.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked him. I was still reeling from that kiss, outside. Every time I replayed it, a little tingle of pleasure shot through my pussy and I forgot what I was doing. He’d been so possessive. If ever I’d been in any doubt about whether I’d been friend-zoned, that kiss had proved otherwise. It also showed he still wanted me. I wasn’t sure he should, but I was pleased, all the same.

  I didn’t really care about food. I just wanted him to hold me down roughly and fuck me just the way that kiss suggested he wanted to. We’d been apart for two entire years. Good sex was long overdue.

  “I’ll make some spaghetti Bolognese. It’s quick, easy, nutritious, and it always reminds me of that Disney movie where the dogs—”

  “Go on a date outside the restaurant and both eat the same strand of spaghetti!” I finished for him. I already knew why spag-bol was his favorite meal, and remembering made me feel closer to him. “Lady and the Tramp,” I added.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. I mean, technically it was meatballs...” he trailed off and I made a face, remembering the time when we’d gone on a disastrous date to a Swedish restaurant in Phoenix. The waiter had gotten our order wrong and we hadn’t wanted to make a fuss on a date, so we’d both struggled through flavorless meatballs. At the end of the date, we both admitted that was the worst meal ever, and laughed about it.

  It was safe to say neither of us liked meatballs, and anyway, where Lady and the Tramp was concerned, we both agreed the romance was in the spaghetti.

  “I’m not much of a lady,” I said quietly.

  “You don’t have to be. ’Cause I ain’t no tramp, neither,” he said, in purposely bad English.

  “Says who?” I teased. He gave me a look which suggested I’d regret what I just said, then he launched himself at me and began tickling me mercilessly. I shrieked with laughter, trying to wriggle free as his fingers found all my most sensitive places.

  “No fair!” I protested finally.

  “Plenty fair.” His fingers brushed over my nipples and I gasped as shocks of heat went straight to my pussy. He realized what he’d done at the same moment I did, and we both flew apart.

  “Food,” he said gruffly.

  “Yeah. I eat food,” I added, for the sake of saying anything at all to avoid an awkward silence.

  We left the stables and went to Jake’s annex, where he put a pan of spaghetti on the stove.

  It seemed like the more we tried to stay away from one another, the more we got drawn together.

  Watching Jake cook, I was reminded about why I’d fallen for him in the first place. He was thoughtful and dependable, kind but stern, and most of all, he had always made me feel safe. Waking up in his bed today had brought back a deep sense of calm and security that I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Since I ran out on him, in fact.

  It seemed like so much had changed since then, but had it, really?

  Once he’d chopped vegetables, he sat down opposite me while the spaghetti boiled.

  “Are you crying?” I asked, looking at his swollen, slightly damp eyes.

  “No. Onions.” His voice was gruff and I giggled for some reason I couldn’t quite explain.

  Time flowed strangely while we sat there, and although we were making small talk, I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention. I was far more interested in drinking in all the tiny details of Jake that I’d missed without even realizing.

  * * *

  Jake

  Usually, Italian food was my favorite, but tonight I barely tasted it. Dylan was sitting at my kitchen table and we were actually getting along. Our history wasn’t a barrier between us, right now, forcing us apart.

  The way she constantly tucked that stray bit of hair behind her ear was so cute. I’d had so many dreams about her, since she ran out on me, and she always had that strand of hair in the way of her face.

  Every time I glanced up, she looked down at her food in a way that made it obvious she’d just been staring at me. Was she doing the same thing I was? Was she trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory, in case we fell apart again?

  “You dropped spaghetti sauce on your shirt,” she pointed out. I looked down and sighed. White T-shirt, of course. Why didn’t I ever wear red when I made pasta?

  Now I had a little dilemma. Either, I took off my shirt and got it under water immediately to avoid it staining, or I left it on and kept eating. I had a feeling there was some kind of rule about not taking your shirt off in front of a girl you liked.

  “If you leave it, the tomato will stain,” she noted. I sighed.

  “I know. But if I take it off, I gotta put my fork down and go wash it.”

  Her fork clattered against the plate and her chair scraped against the floor. In an instant, she stood behind me, tugging my shirt off.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, helping her out. With a giggle that sounded triumphant, she held my shirt for several seconds and just stared at my topless body. I watched her face. A slight smile curved around her lips and she looked at me for way, way longer than was necessary.

  “So you’ve got my shirt off,” I remarked, trying to stay casual. “Now what?”

  Her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing, and she hurried to the kitchen sink to fix my shirt. When she returned to the table, her cheeks were pink.

  “Sorry, I got distracted,” she mumbled, digging her fork into her food.

  I got back to my own meal, ignoring the fact I was only wearing jeans, now. The silence wasn’t the same one we’d sat through yesterday afternoon in Lawson’s guestroom. It was charged with something new. A sense that only one small thing needed to happen, and we’d be tearing each other’s clothes off, like it was the old days again.

  I tried to ignore it long enough to eat. If I remembered anything at all from last time, it was that I’d need a whole lot of energy to play with Dylan.

  Maybe I should have baked cookies or something.

  * * *

  Dylan

  After dinner, I took my plate to the sink and began rinsing it. Jake came up behind me, his body pressed against mine, and I felt the outline of his hard muscles touching my back. Heat radiated from his shirtless chest.

  “Got room for dessert?” he murmured.

  A thrill of heat ran through my belly. I dropped the plate with a clatter into the sink.

  “Shit! I’m so sorry!” I said immediately. He chuckled. When I looked down, I saw nothing was broken. Not trusting myself to finish the job, I left the plate in the bottom of the sink.

  “Maybe I need to teach you a lesson in washing dishes.” His voice did strange things to my insides.

  “Screw the dishes,” I countered, finding it impossible to stay quiet.

  “I’d rather screw you.”

  It was cheesy, and utterly predictable, but it still made me gasp a little.

  “You mean it?” I turned and gazed up into his eyes. He met my gaze and it was clear he was serious.

  “I mean it.” He leaned forward, and his
breath warmed my neck as he added, “But you’re going to do something for me, first.”

  I weakened, my will sliding away and leaving only need.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re gonna call Bob and tell him you’ve explicitly consented to the spanking I owe you.”

  Chapter 9

  Dylan

  My jaw dropped. I wanted to argue or get mad, but instead I felt my cheeks getting hot and my clit twitching.

  “Won’t that offend him?” I managed.

  “I’ve known him a lot longer than you. I’m pretty sure nothing can shock him. But if you call him out on another wild goose chase he’ll be annoyed.”

  “Couldn’t we just skip the spanking and get straight to the make-up sex?”

  “Nope. You want sex, you gotta consent to sex and a spanking. You know I’m not a regular guy; I got certain kinks I’m not willing to compromise on. It’s all or nothing. You wronged me pretty bad and I’m not gonna be able to move on until we square things up.”

  I gulped. Jake was really going to make me go over his knee. Part of me was relieved because deep down, I knew things would be forever left unsaid if we didn’t do this.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” I tried to sound braver than I felt.

  “I’ll help. C’mon.” He guided me to the couch in the living room and handed me his phone. “All you gotta do is hit call.”

  He made it sound so simple. I stared at the phone until the backlight began to dim a little. Taking a deep breath, I hit the green button.

  “Hey, son, what can I do for you?” Bob’s voice came down the line sounding so real and... there that I squeaked and dropped the phone. Jake gave me a look as he reached down and retrieved it. He put Bob on speakerphone.

  “Hey Bob, sorry about that. I’ve got Dylan here at my place and there’s something she’d like to say to you.”

  “This about the case?” he asked.

  “Not exactly. I’m gonna let her be the one to tell you.”

  My stomach wobbled and I couldn’t look at the phone, in case Bob appeared and gave me a stern look. Oh, God, this was too embarrassing.

  I shook my head.

  “It’s okay, Dylan, you can do this,” Jake encouraged.

  “Sheriff?” I began. “I wa-wa-wanted to let you know I consent to Jake s-s-s-spanking me, tonight.”

  “Really? You don’t sound very convincing,” Bob said, flatly. Jake laughed out loud and my face grew so hot I was sure I’d turned into a beetroot.

  “I have to convince you?” My voice came out as a squeak.

  “Yep.” His voice was so serious, but I knew when I was being teased. Damn them, both men were enjoying this far too much.

  “I consent to Jake spanking me, sheriff,” I tried.

  “Better. I’ll make a note of it. You can withdraw that consent at any time, but you gotta give the boy time to unfasten the ropes.” Bob was rubbing this in as much as possible. I knew it was just ribbing, but I was still so humiliated.

  “I will.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “Son, mark my words, if she gives you any trouble, don’t forget the local store carries fresh ginger and it’s open until midnight.”

  Jake roared with laughter and I squeaked and covered my mouth with my hand, shaking my head.

  “Not fair!” I retorted, but I couldn’t help shaking with giggles at the fact the sheriff just said that.

  “You two kids do what you gotta do. I’ve got a couple of my deputies watching over the ranch for you, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear you two worked out your differences.”

  Jake had turned purple with laughter. I was pretty sure I was purple too—with embarrassment.

  “Thanks, Bob, you’re the best,” Jake said as he ended the call. He was still laughing when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my head against his bare chest. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmured.

  “For you!” I tried to stay indignant but it was impossible because the situation had been pretty funny. “Do you want me to call your mama next?”

  “No,” he replied. “You can do that in the morning.”

  I laughed at the idea of calling his mom to tell her what we’d done. As far as I remembered, she was a devout Baptist whose philosophy was ‘see no evil, hear no evil’.

  “So... how do we do this?” I asked, suddenly feeling awkward and uncertain. Jake was going to spank me, and this time, I was going to take it.

  “We’re gonna go upstairs to my room, and I’ll explain what you did. Then you’ll go over my knee and get spanked.”

  “And then?”

  “Then you’re gonna feel better, and if you still want to, we can have sex.”

  I nodded. It was exactly what I’d expected, given how extensively we’d talked about this in the past. But I was still a little scared, because I knew it was going to hurt.

  Like I’d hurt Jake, before. He’d only wanted a playful spanking, and I’d reacted in pretty much the worst possible way. Then I’d avoided him for two years. I’d told myself he was dangerous, but I’d known all along, on some level, that the danger lay in what I wanted him to do to me and how he made me feel about submitting to him. He made me like it, and that had scared me to the core.

  We’d done sex with ropes, gags and wax before we’d tried spanking. I’d liked all of it. He’d always respected my limits and I’d never felt abused or neglected. Then that one bad day just ruined everything. What if I reacted the same way again? Sure, I couldn’t call the cops and get him arrested, this time, but I could still freak out and run away. If I did that tonight, I knew I’d have to move to Hawaii so I never saw Jake or anyone who knew him ever again.

  “Okay. I’m going to try my best,” I told him. I had been wondering for so long what this spanking would have been like, and how different everything would have been if I’d just gone through with it the first time.

  * * *

  Jake

  I locked my front door and led Dylan upstairs. I knew she was nervous and truth be told, I was a little unsure of how this would work out, too, but I knew she needed me to be strong and take the lead.

  “When we get into my room, I want you to undress completely,” I told her.

  “Okay.”

  “That’s ‘yes, sir’ once we get inside.”

  “Yes, sir.” She sounded so meek and vulnerable when she said it, and I knew she was already sinking into a more submissive mindset.

  I held the door open for her and closed it behind me. No one would bother us up here. Nothing would get in the way. It was just me and her, and I was going to ensure she knew she was mine.

  She fumbled with the buttons on her plaid shirt. It was adorable. The shirt was quite baggy, so not much was revealed as each button opened. When she shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor, however, I got a good view of her breasts. Big handfuls that I used to love gently holding. Her hair was behind her shoulders so my view of her cleavage, bolstered by her white lacy bra, was unobstructed.

  I’d missed that sight. Right now, I didn’t want to stop looking, because I wanted to commit every detail to memory.

  She unfastened her jeans and I watched them slide down her legs. She’d always hated her legs because she said they were short and fat, but I didn’t see them that way. I thought she had the shapeliest legs of anyone I’d ever seen. If it were down to me, she’d be in Daisy Dukes every single day.

  When she stepped out of her jeans, she stood before me in only her underwear. Matching white lace panties; the ones that came down low, like shorts, and covered everything. For some reason I’d always found them more attractive than thongs.

  “And the underwear. This is going to be a bare-bottom spanking.”

  Watching her unpeel her panties, revealing the pale globes of her ass, made my cock so hard it ached for her.

  She unclipped her bra last of all, and her breasts emerged. Her nipples were already pebbled and waiting for attention.

  I would ma
ke her wait.

  “Why am I about to spank you, Dylan?” I’d never much gone for discipline like this, preferring bedroom play; a punishment dynamic was really more Clay’s area of expertise, but right now, I felt this needed to happen, and if it didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to go forward.

  “Because I ran out on you and called the cops—no, that’s not right, is it? That’s not why you’d do this.” She paused for a moment and I waited for her to come to her own conclusion. She had to. “Because I broke your trust. When I left here and lied to the cops I didn’t just lie about you, I told people something we’d done together, in a negative light, despite the fact I’d consented. I convinced myself to stay away from you, and all because I was scared of the fact that... that I liked it when you spanked me.”

  I was a little floored by her last revelation.

  “Why did that scare you?”

  “It made me feel like I deserved what happened to me before. At vet school. It made me feel weak and vulnerable, and I couldn’t handle it.”

  I’d pretty much figured that out since she had finally shared her past with me, but it was still something we needed to talk about.

  “Part of being in a relationship with someone is opening up to them. Letting them see your weaknesses and trusting that they will love you anyway. If you can’t let your guard down with someone, that relationship isn’t working.” Geez, I was starting to sound like Dr. Phil. But maybe she needed to hear it at that moment in time.

  She nodded and I saw tears in her eyes. There was still the unspoken possibility that she might run out on me again, but I was willing to put myself out there. For her.

  “I’m going to spank you, now. I’ll decide when we stop, but you remember your safeword?”

  “Pineapple,” she whispered.

  I nodded. “Climb over my knee.”

  With an air of solemnity, she stood sideways of me and bent over, repositioning herself until her fingers and toes touched the floor and her ass was thrust high in the air over my knee. Her belly pressed against my thighs. Her flesh was soft and warm. A rush of emotion filled me; we were together again. This whole situation felt a little surreal, because I’d never thought she would come back, let alone reconcile.