Taking His Hand (Under His Roof #2) (5 page)

“
Just checking. I found out Amanda’s pregnant, like, fifteen minutes before coming to meet you.”

I listen as Samantha launches into the story of Amanda and her boyfriend and how the baby wasn’t planned, but they’re both apparently thrilled about it. Which is a relief. Amanda is one of Sam’s friends from college. I’ve only met her a few times, and she seems like a sweet, sincere person. I’m happy she’s happy. I try not to think about the fact that Amanda is younger than me, and maybe it should be my turn, soon, to be pregnant.

It is
way
too soon to think about that. My mind wanders back to David as Sam goes over all the details of Amanda’s situation.

When I’m caught up on the latest from Samantha’s friends, I tell her about poor Aria. Sam has heard me bitching about my secretary for as long as I’ve been in management at Lakeside Advertising. Aria is a very sweet young woman, but really frustrated me while she was my secretary. We didn’t butt heads, exactly, but she had a hard time getting work done. It took me a long time to fire her—or, more accurately, get her transferred to a different department.

Sam congratulates me on finally getting rid of her.

“
I hear it gets easier,” she says as she slurps up half her glass of chocolate milk through a clear plastic straw.

“
Firing people?”

“
Yeah. My dad used to have to fire people all the time. He said the first time he did it, he got sick. But it got easier and easier.”

“
That seems…sad.”

She shrugs. “He said it never got
easy
. Just
easier.
Aria wasn’t a good fit for you, and never has been. It was probably dumb of you to wait so long to do the inevitable.”

After breakfast I head to the supermarket before going home. Samantha’s coming to our gathering tonight, too, with a guy she’s seeing whom I haven’t met yet. Apparently we’ll have quite the crowd. What originally started as a quiet dinner with David’s parents—a chance for me to finally meet them—has become a backyard barbecue with David’s entire family and a rather large handful of friends.

I was briefly disappointed as our guest list rapidly expanded. But David reminded me we hadn’t had a proper housewarming for me yet. I like the idea of celebrating that we’ve moved in together. It’ll be fun to celebrate that, and his parent’s return.

It might also be nice not having all the attention of David’s mom and dad focused on me. Having my friends around will make me feel more comfortable. I don’t imagine I won’t like them—if they are anything like the rest of David’s family, I’ll love them. I’m more worried about them not liking me. He cares so much about them, and I assume he cares about their opinion. If they dislike me, would David start to have second thoughts?

I push my negative ideas aside. David’s warned me that I have a habit of assuming things will go wrong. He’s also warned me if I continue to do so he’ll have to, and these are his exact words, ‘spank that habit right out of me’.

I prefer to have no habits spanked out of me, and I cringe as I remember yesterday’s discipline session and today’s quick morning spanking. Whatever it is about these spankings really does work, as much as I hate to admit it. Today I feel calm and together, whereas yesterday morning I was a raging monster.

Smiling, I remember the raging monster side of my personality is why I met David in the first place.

At the supermarket, I take my time, strolling slowly with my cart through every aisle, wondering when I’ll get the text message that it’s safe to come home. I cannot wait for David’s office to be finished. Even though we’ll still need to coordinate a little when he has clients so I don’t inadvertently see one of them as they pass through the yard, it’ll be nice at least to be able to stay in the house.

When I get his text, I swing by the meat section to grab some ground beef for making burgers before checking out with a surprisingly large amount of groceries. Idling away time at the supermarket is not something I should do often. We could feed three times the amount of guests we’re expecting with all the snacks I’ve picked out.

As I drive home, I wonder about every car I pass that’s headed in the opposite direction, back toward the city. If it’s a single woman, I wonder if she’s the one he spanked. I get glimpses of a few young, attractive women, and feel a twinge of jealousy.

Maybe I should take up spanking men. See how he likes it.

I laugh, because I know there’s no way in hell I’d want to spank men for a living. And because I know David would probably hate that idea. Would he forbid it?

Can he do that?

He helps me unload the car when I get home. I catch him raising his eyebrows at the amount of stuff I’ve purchased, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s got some classic rock playing on the stereo. The kitchen smells amazing already, and he’s only just begun cooking. I start setting up the backyard, hauling folding chairs up from the basement and arranging flowers for the tables. David is such a good cook, I let him have the kitchen to himself. Sometimes he calls me in for a kiss, or for a quick hand with something, or to say he loves me.

He is so damn cute.

When I’m bored with setting up outside, I stand around in the kitchen, watching him work and nibbling on veggies he’s cut and arranged on a platter. He’s got a small red stain on his tight white t-shirt. I stare at that while letting my mind wander to what’s
under
that tight white t-shirt. Before David, I never really thought I cared much about appearance. But holy crap, David is such a hottie. Eye candy extraordinaire. Luscious to the max. Intensely, incredibly manly. Muscular madness.

I giggle to myself and he eyes me.

“
Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“
How cute you are,” I answer honestly, not taking my eyes off the stain. “Make something with tomatoes?”

He follows my gaze. “Shoot. Yeah. It’s chutney. I’m trying to use up our tomato supply. I might freeze a bunch tomorrow—we have buckets of ’em on our porch right now.”

I’d seen them when we unloaded the groceries. David is not only a good cook—he also has a green thumb. I’ve been spoiled with lots of garden-fresh produce.

“
Come here,” he says. “Help me with this.”

He rolls up my sleeves for me before taking my hands and placing them into a huge bowl filled with ground beef. I look at him with disgust and he laughs.

“
Mix it up, baby,” he says, cracking an egg into the bowl and adding spices.

“
Seriously? This is disgusting.”

“
It’s easiest if you do it with your hands. It’s not disgusting. You’re going to eat it, after all. It’s just meat.”

I shake my head at him and attempt to mix the meat without crinkling my nose. David stands behind me and runs his hands down my torso, over my hips. He slides a hand into my pants and I instinctually part my legs.

“
Massage that meat, sweetie,” he whispers.

I burst out laughing and he laughs with me before taking my hips in his hands and moving both of our bodies to the music. The Rolling Stones are on, playing
Jumpin’ Jack Flash
. He hums in my ear as we move.

“
When we finish up, we’ll have a good hour or so before Marilyn gets here,” he whispers, nibbling my earlobe.

I sigh happily. That’s great news.

When David declares the meat has been thoroughly massaged and mixed, we make patties together and stick everything in the fridge, then book it to the bedroom. I swear, my clothes are off before I’m even aware of what’s happening. David half-throws me to the bed and climbs on top of me.

“
You are so fucking beautiful,” he says, hovering over me, studying my body.

I feel on display. Once again, I’m naked, and he’s clothed. This time, though, I’m not expecting a spanking. But still there’s that same dynamic. I’m vulnerable. He’s in charge.

God, I love him.

He kisses me, and I arch my back and savor him. His tongue explores me, gentle yet urgent. His hands explore, too, firmly massaging my breasts as I moan. His fingernails graze my flesh while I shiver under him.

I run my hands along his strong arms, over his chest, down to his stomach. Grasping the hem of his shirt, I pull it up, over his head as he moves his arms to help me. I reach for his belt and unclasp it without looking. I know his belt so well by now I could unclasp it with my toes. He grinds against me as I grasp down, feeling for his erection. I love knowing how hard he gets for me.

I feel incredibly sexy when he’s so,
so
turned on by touching me, seeing me, feeling me.

Pinball Wizard
is appropriately blaring away in the living room and I smile up at David.

“
I love you.”

“
I love you.” He pauses from grinding for a moment and stares down at me, his deep brown eyes intense. “I don’t want to make love to you right now.”

I must look crestfallen because he laughs, shakes his head, and quickly follows up with, “I don’t want to make love to you…I want to fuck you.”

The only thing I can do is moan, nod consent, and say, “Fuck me, baby.”

He grasps my wrists and pins them down above my head, keeping his eyes focused on my expression, on my face, as he enters me.

I gasp with pleasure. It always feels so, so good.

“
Maybe,” David says, sliding in and out of me, teasing me with a few quick, hard strokes between soft and slow, “I’ll fuck you but not have you come…and you’ll be horny all night, for all our guests.”

I gasp in mock-horror and he laughs.

“
Yeah. You know I can’t resist making you come,” he admits, throwing my legs up over his shoulders before placing his hands back around my wrists.

I move with him, staring into his eyes as he pounds me. Beads of sweat form around his temple. He’s fierce, yet calmly so. I find I like having his hands around my wrists. I don’t fight them, I don’t fight him. I just enjoy.

When I come, I cry out, filling the room with my pleasure. He grunts, doesn’t slow down at all, and I spasm around his erection, pushing him over the edge. He collapses on top of me and I wrap my legs and arms around him, hugging him tight.

“
So beautiful,” he whispers.

I feel his breaths. Up and down, his chest moves with mine. We’re one.

Marilyn arrives just as David’s popped in the shower. She puts herself to work immediately, helping me clean up the mess in the kitchen that David and I’d left. I really love talking with her. She’s David’s younger sister, two years older than me, and so far we get along well. The first time I had a conversation with her, I felt like I was speaking with an old friend.

“
You know, when I met you, I thought you and David were on a date,” I admit, grabbing two beers from the fridge and handing her one.

“
That’s hilarious. He thought you were on a date, too. We actually made a bet on it.”

“
Seriously?”

“
Yep. Easy twenty bucks for me. It was so obvious you weren’t dating that guy. He’s a client of yours, right? He was
way
out of your league.”

We wander outside and sit at one of the tables. Sparky joins us, collapsing at Marilyn’s feet.

“
Do you think your parents will like me?” I ask, feeling a little nervous.

“
Totally. I’d bet on that, too. They’re gonna love you. Don’t even spend one minute worrying about meeting them. They’re easy. Hey! So, I have a ‘meet the parents’ horror story.”

“
I’m not sure this is the best time—“ I begin, but I’m interrupted by David coming out to greet Marilyn. They hug, she gets distracted, and I’m thankful.

Bit by bit, guests arrive. Mitchell and his wife, Erin arrive, a beautifully frosted chocolate cake in hand. Ryan, David’s youngest brother, comes with a tall, blonde girl with icy eyes, whom he steers toward the edge of the backyard, a six-pack of something Belgian and unpronounceable in hand.