“No excuses. And what does Daddy say about acting out when you are stressed? Then, blaming your actions on stress?” he asked.
Sighing, I repeated Ray’s famous phrase that he told me several times a year whenever I had overcommitted, “Don’t sign up for more than you can handle. Stress is no excuse for rudeness.”
He said, “You are going to pull down those pants and panties and bend right over your marble countertop. Daddy is going to spank that stress right away until you are my sweet, sweet girl again.”
My eyes widened as I watched Ray reach over the oven to the red utensil crock I kept on the counter. He flipped through the utensils, finally making his selection. A long handled wooden spoon. I gulped.
“Ray…” I started, backing away from him. My rear bumped into the kitchen table.
“I’m not going to chase you, Jessica. I’m going to stand right here and wait for you to present yourself to me.” He began to tap his wide palm with the head of the spoon.
“I… uh… err...” I stuttered as my fingers gripped the edge of the table.
His dark eyes roved over me. “Don’t make me count,” he said softly, his hand going to the buckle of his belt.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I quickly went over to Ray. Facing the backsplash, I unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them with my panties down over my hips and bottom. I bent over the marble as best I could, giving Ray full access to my bared bottom.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. He tapped my bottom with the spoon, causing my ass cheeks to clench. “A few warm up swats?” he asked.
“Yes... sir,” I said.
Ray’s paddle-like palm came down on the center of my right ass cheek, smack, then the left, smack. He spanked my bottom, a stinging covering my skin. Then, he began spanking me with the spoon. The wooden implement left sharp, stinging spots on my warmed skin.
Long before a punishment spanking would have normally ended, Ray paused. His hand caressed my ass. Leaning down, he murmured into my ear. “You know what I would really like to do with you?” he asked.
A delicious thrill ran through me. His voice was sexy, and I began to picture the things he would do with me. “Wh—what?” I asked.
“I want to take you out back. Bend you over my spanking bench, warm up that gorgeous ass of yours, then take you from behind and fuck the stress right out of you. What do you say?”
Hell yeah! Ray always knew exactly what I needed. “I say, yes please.”
He helped me peel off my pants. Grabbing my hand, we laughed as we sprinted across the grass to our little sex shop—me bare from the waist down.
Sometimes, a little stress could be healthy.
Jessica
Later that day, still glowing from our private time in our love shack, Ray and I revisited the topic of the banquet.
Digging into the pot roast I had made in the crock pot, in-between bites, Ray said, “We are going to go with the red. Let’s change it to a red, white and blue theme. Perfect for sports, perfect for summer. I’m thinking… All American Sports? Maybe get some striped decorations, some with stars?”
I mulled the idea over. I had to give it to Ray—it was a super cute idea. “That might work,” I said with a nod.
“Tell you what, honey, you still have a teacher banquet to prepare, right?” he asked.
Yes, that and three other things I hadn’t yet told Ray I had volunteered to chair. “Yes… so?” I said, taking a sip of the red wine he had poured me.
“Let me take care of this one.” The kiss he placed on my forehead said that the topic was not up for discussion. I gave a sigh—relinquishing control.
The day of the banquet came. And true to Ray’s word, he took care of everything.
The room was perfect. The tables were spread with the red cloths—just looking at them made my bottom hurt a little. Each place setting had a red and white striped plate, blue napkin, and blue cup with white stars. I had Carrie come over and spend three hours writing each child’s name on the cup in a paint pen—she didn’t teach anymore but she still had that gorgeous teacher handwriting. The cup was a little takeaway for the kids to remember the season.
Ray had run around Poke and the town of Clinton, collecting every single red white and blue or star themed balloon. Bunches of the inflated balloons were tied to little silver holders and placed on the center of the tables. Overall, we had ourselves a good old-fashioned America themed sports banquet.
Three long tables held catered dinner from the local barbeque joint. The hungry kids were grabbing their plates from the table and getting in line.
Throwing his arm around my shoulder, Ray said to me, “You did good, honey. Real good. The kids are having a ball.”
I nudged him in the ribs. “You did great, Ray. I couldn’t even imagine these kids amongst my original black and white themed party. Booooo—ring.”
Shannon, one of the sweetest moms I knew who had four little boys and had never missed a t-ball game, approached me. “Jessica, this is just so cute. I love, love, love the red. Sometimes, as parents, we try to make these events too… stuffy. You know, white linen and candle light. But this looks like something that was made for the kids. The pictures are going to come out awesome.” I could feel Ray smirking beside me, his hand slowly moving to my ass and giving it a discreet squeeze.
“Thanks, Shannon. It was a happy accident. The red was the only thing in stock. Ray was super worried about it, but I assured him it would look great.” I smiled up at Ray.
“I was up in arms about it I guess. Good thing you were there to cool me off, Miss Jessica.” He gave my rear a harder squeeze. I held in a squeal.
“Aww… you guys are cute,” Shannon gushed. She gave us a wave, smiled and took off for the buffet.
I leaned up, kissing Ray. “You’re the best, you know that?” I murmured to him.
“No, you are. As long as you have me around to keep you in line.” He kissed me back. “Just think—in a few days all of this volunteer nonsense will be behind you and you and I will be stretched out in the sand, drinking by the ocean.”
“You are going to be drinking?” I raised a brow to my husband. He used to be a bartender, own his own bar, and only ever had a drink once a year around Christmas time. It would be shocking to see him partaking over our vacation.
“I decided in my old age, I’m going to let loose a bit. Maybe have some fine wine, a craft beer or two.” His arms wrapped around my waist. “Have a few mixed drinks with my sweetie.”
“Mmm… sounds great.” I could already feel the warm glow a couple of glasses of wine gave me, relaxing my shoulders, the tension of the banquet melting away.
Ray gave me a quick kiss, pulling me away from him. “But right now, we’ve got to get back to mingling.” With a wink, he departed, joking, “See you at the beach.”
It was sad, but true. The end of the school year was so chaotic we really wouldn’t get to fully connect until we left for our vacation. Just a few more weeks and my toes would be in the sand. I could not wait.
Chapter 2
Carrie
Over the next few weeks, I had somehow managed to not only keep myself out of trouble, but also hide the cost of the rental house. And order three modest, boring, bathing suits that got the Daddy stamp of approval. Two were full-coverage one pieces, one a tankini. But the way Wes smiled when I tried them on, then threw me on the bed and ripped them off me—told me he thought they were sexy.
Jake and Buttercup had opted for turning their trip into a two week long second honeymoon. They decided to take Jake’s big white truck with the wide, comfy leather seats, and drive to the Outer Banks, stopping at different towns across the country as they made their way to the coast.
Which sounded romantic… for them. Jessica and I both agreed that the total of twenty-three hours of driving time, each way, was not for us. Maybe it was the years we had on Ray’s younger sister and her new husband, or maybe we were just smarter.
Either way you put it, Jessic
a and I bought four plane tickets flying into Wilmington, North Carolina and renting an SUV. We had to have four-wheel drive to—get this—drive across the sand to get to our house! That’s how private it was.
Jake and Buttercup’s vacation plan with scenic stops and the cruise they planned down the North Carolina coast had them only staying with us for two of the seven nights. But they had been so busy with their remodeling company—we’d take any time with them we could get.
Finally, the day came for our trip. Mama and Harry packed up the kids and they were off. Funny—there was not even one tear shed on their end, we parents barely got a goodbye as the kids were so excited to be donning their Mickey ears.
And so were Jessica and I. Well, not Mickey ears, but our bathing suits.
Our flight was fabulous—Ray ordered champagne for, ‘his girls’, handing us each a plastic flute. Jessica and I watched our all-time favorite movie—Legally Blonde, on her iPad. I swear if Jessica wasn’t my best friend, I would want Elle Woods to be. I think I’m going to dress up as the fabulous law student this year when Jess throws her annual Halloween bash.
At the airport, Wes picked up the cutest black BMW SUV that we had rented for the week. Ray suggested lunch on the water on the way to the house. Who would say, no, to that?
Ray did some research on his phone as Wes drove. Finally, he decided on a quaint rooftop bistro. My eyes widened as we walked up the metal staircase. The place was perfect—like something out of a travel magazine. Jess and I sipped on strawberry daiquiris as we sat looking over the wall of the Soul of the Sound, watching the boats go by.
We felt like royalty.
No kids, no stress. Two gorgeous husbands. Fancy drinks, a view of private yachts breezing over the sound. The skirts of our sundresses fluttering in the breeze. Ray ordered for everyone—as we often let him do at restaurants, he’s our own personal foodie guide—and we were not disappointed. Taking into consideration my discriminating palate—code word for picky—Ray had gone with the fish n’ chips. Delicate white fish fried in a golden buttery batter served with a creamy dipping sauce. Accompanied by one of my all-time favorite foods, French fries.
And we had to have dessert. It was vacation, after all. We ordered the house specialty. Fried cheesecake with strawberry sauce. After stuffing ourselves to the gills, I found myself nodding off in the backseat, my head on Jessica’s shoulder as we made our way to the vacation house.
I woke to Jessica nudging me, telling me we were close. Driving over the bridge, I couldn’t help bouncing up and down in my seat when we got our first glimpse of the teal-blue ocean. It was incredible. I made everyone roll their windows down, so we could get a whiff of the salty sea breeze.
And the houses—oh my goodness. I felt like my head was flipping—left to the houses on the sound side, then right to the houses on the ocean side—trying to catch a glimpse of every single one. They were painted in beautiful shades of pastels, even… pink! I saw the little teal one that I had first found on the internet go by, and I gave it a little wave. The houses began to be further apart from one another.
Another mile down, and I saw the yellow one, the second one I had seen on the vacation rental page. A little ice cube formed in the pit of my stomach. With its white shutters and huge porch, the other homes nowhere near it, the yellow house looked perfect.
Had I made a mistake choosing the navy one?
I craned my neck between the front two seats, hoping to see if our house was coming up. Instead, I got a view of the pavement of the road… ending.
Wes put the car into four-wheel drive. Easing off the road, he steered onto the sandy shore. The car bumped along, Jessica and I giggling in the backseat. Dunes as tall as the car rose up to our left. The ocean waves were crashing on the shore only feet from our SUV. There was the first spotting of a little grey wild horse off in the distance.
Then I saw the sign for our house—The Islander. We turned down the sandy drive, low green brush growing on either side.
I gave a little gasp as I got my first peek at the navy and white four-story house. Only, it wasn’t a beach house. It was a mansion.
The dark blue paint was in perfect condition, the top story coming to a little peak with a round window beneath it. The decks stretched out over the entire width of the back of the house. As Wes pulled around to the paved parking bay beneath the house, I grabbed my phone out of my purse, double checking the address I knew by heart from looking at the house on line so often. 1229 Island Drive, The Islander. Yep, this was it.
“Is this it, Carrie?” Wes gave me a glimpse over his shoulder as if to say, looks pricey.
“This is the one!” I said.
Jessica let out one of her low whistles. “Girl, this place is amazing. And I don’t see another house in sight.”
Ray said, “You did good, Carrie. Excellent choice. I can’t wait to see the inside but judging by the off roading we have to do to get back to the store, I think Wes and I had best take off now and come back to fill the fridge, take a tour and unload the luggage. I don’t want to be stuck without dinner supplies.”
Wes said, “Ray and I had planned on dropping you girls off at the house, taking a tour, then four wheeling back off the beach and going straight to a grocery store—we all know Ray can’t stand to be in a house with no food. This leaves you and Jess alone, to explore the house in all your girly glory. Sound good?”
“Yes!” Jessica and I said at the same time.
Wes said, “Be good, you two.”
I gave him a smile, pulling Jessica out of the backseat of the car, hollering, “Bye, guys!” over my shoulder. Jessica and I waved until the black car was out of sight. Then, we ran squealing to the door of the house. I quickly punched in the code to unlock the door, one-seven-nine-one-two. I had also memorized it weeks earlier.
We flung the door open, rushing through the game room in the basement and up to the first floor. Jessica and I ran from room to room, squealing like little girls. There were four master bedrooms. Each one with a king bed and its own bathroom. They were decorated with their own themes. A blue seashell room, a pale green palm tree room, a yellow sun and sand room, and a pretty in pink room with flamingo bedding. My fingers crossed that Jessica would not surprise me and want the pink one. It was mine.
“This one is mine!” she called when she got to the pale blue bedroom I knew she would claim. Laid out on the bed, rolling in the down comforters, Jessica had a huge smile on her face. “How’d you find this place? It’s literally a dream house.”
“A little online shopping,” I answered modestly.
She hopped up from the bed, exploring the huge bathroom. “Carrie—how much did this place cost? It’s seriously the most amazing house I’ve ever been in. Oh yeah, baby—there is an enormous shower here with two shower heads.” She popped out of her bedroom and I followed her to the end of the hallway. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is that an elevator?”
“Yes. It’s going to make getting our stuff up here so much easier,” I said. Not adding that it came with a hefty price tag.
“And we can ride it when we get drunk.” Grabbing my hand, she pulled me onto the elevator, pushing number 3- Main floor. Up we went, the ride smoother than I imagined it would be. The doors opened, revealing a completely open living room with three huge, comfy, cozy, pale blue couches. A long, teak wood dining table with upholstered chairs sat just outside the open—and huge—white gourmet kitchen, with gray marble countertops and floors.
Jess immediately went to the entertainment center, looking at all the movies and gadgets. She squealed with delight over the karaoke machine. When she had gotten her fill of the living room, she dragged me to the back of the house, opening the glass doors and pulling me to the deck.
As the breeze blew through our hair, our laughter died down. Our attention was stolen by the majestic ocean. The view from the balcony had taken our words away. My hands wrapped around the wooden railing as I took in the ocean. The water deepened from a
sky blue, to an azure, changing over to an emerald green where the ocean met the horizon. The white capped waves hit the pale sand, with a soothing, crash. Seagulls circled overhead. Breathing in, I relaxed as the salty, beach air washed me clean.
All the stress of real life… gone.
Jessica wrapped an arm around me. I laid my head on her shoulder. She said, “It’s perfect. Thanks for setting this up, Carrie. What do you want to do first?”
Her gaze caught mine as we both blurted out, “Karaoke!”
By our fifteenth rendition of Girls Just Want to Have Fun, we had almost perfected the vocals. Our sixteenth take was interrupted by the sound of my name being called.
“Carrie!” Wes’ voice carried up from below.
“The boys are back in town,” I said.
“That’s our next number,” Jessica said.
“No, I mean Wes and Ray are here. I just heard Wes call my name.” I didn’t add that I suddenly had a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach over facing my husband. Surely, he would question the price of this palace.
Putting her mic back on the shelf, Jessica said, “I’m starving. I can’t wait to see what Ray cooks up. I’m going out on the deck to get one more look at the ocean.”
“I’ll be right back, Jess,” I said, heading to the stairwell to face my fate.
Running down the hall, I plowed straight into the barrel chest of Ray.
“Hey—slow down, little bit. Where you off to?” he asked.
“Hey, Ray! Just going to see Wes. Jess is on the balcony—join her. Wait till you see the ocean,” I said, breathlessly.
“Headed out there, now. Wes is loading the elevator with the groceries, then sending them up here for us to unload. See you in a minute,” Ray said.
“Carrie!” Wes’ voice rumbled up the stairs.
“Coming!” I called, hustling to my husband, hot-pink flip flops slapping on the wood stairs.
Beach Daddies: A Sweet and Dirty Texas Love Novella Page 3