The Cowboy's Secret (Cowboys After Dark: Book 3) (10 page)

“Okay,” she mumbled, moving gingerly on to the couch.

Stepping on to the porch he found her father had arrived and was waiting in the Mercedes. Walking quickly forward he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Mr. Tate, Anastasia has been climbing out of her second story window and sneaking out at night. I suggest you cut off any nearby branches.”

“Damn, she has?” the man exclaimed.

“In a shoe box in her closet is some marijuana. Obviously you need to find it and throw it away.”

“Marijuana? This is worse than I thought,” he frowned.

Clint continued relaying the additional information, but wanting to spare the old man any embarrassment, he refrained from talking about the sexting.

“She’ll be fine,” Clint finished. “I think we’ve caught her in time, but I’m keeping her phone for a bit. See if anyone interesting should call.”

“I am so indebted to you, Clint, I really don’t know what to say.”

“I did spank her so you can use that. If she gives you any attitude just threaten to send her back here. It’ll work, trust me.”

“I will, thank you, thank you. We’ve been so worried.”

“I’ll go and get her, and I suggest hugging and affection when she gets home.”

“I’ll call her mother and let her know. Maybe she can get rid of that drug stuff before we get there.”

“Good plan. Call me if you need anything,” Clint finished, “oh, and I did ask her where she got the marijuana, and she said something about it being dealt at your lumber yard. Might want to do some random drug testing. Don’t want to put her in harm’s way, so wait a week or so.”

“Excellent, thank you, Clint, I’ll do that.”

Clint hurried back inside, anxious for Anastasia to leave with her father.

There was another miscreant waiting, and knowing Sam, Clint figured Amelia was locked away somewhere. He smiled, thinking back to the fun times he and Sam had shared. Sam was big on giving naughty girls a time-out, preferably in bondage and a blindfold.

Five more minutes, Amelia, and I’ll be down to deal with you. This is turning into quite a day!

I
t felt as if an hour had passed before she finally heard the key turning in the lock, and glancing at her watch she saw she’d been sitting on the trunk for twenty-five minutes. Standing up she ran her fingers through her hair, then squared her shoulders, ready to apologize profusely and beg his forgiveness, but when his large frame stood in the doorway, his frown heavy and his eyes dark, she couldn’t find her voice.

He studied her for a moment, unfazed by the awkward silence, then closing the door behind him he shook his head.

“I’m not sure what to say to you,” he said sternly.

“I’m terribly sorry, Clint, I really am. I didn’t mean any harm.”

She paused, waiting for a response, but getting nothing from him she continued.

“The thing is, after what you told me the other night about why you’re a hero around here-”

“You mean after I told you I spanked a young woman for being a brat,” he interrupted.

His remark was pointed, and he said it knowing it would embarrass her, and as he watched her turn red he thought,
yep, just like that.

“Uh, yes,” she stammered, hating the crimson blush that was crawling across her face.

“Go on,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I was just so, uh, curious, and I got here early, and when I saw those people arrive up at the guest house, and you take the girl in…I thought maybe you…uh…”

Lost for words and completely mortified, she stopped talking and stared at the floor.

“You wanna see what’s in that guesthouse so bad, let’s go take a look?” he declared.

“No, really, it’s okay-”

“Come on, after you,” he interjected, giving her no room to refuse, and opening the door he gestured for her to walk ahead of him.

Swallowing hard she walked nervously past him and into the barn. She could see the golf cart sitting outside waiting, and wishing the heat would leave her face she moved unsteadily towards it.

Following her out Clint’s eyes fell to her plump, full bottom.

You wanted to be caught. You may not know it but you did, and you want me to spank you for it. You want me to slap my hand on your butt, and I’m gonna oblige.

He watched her park her delectable seat cheeks on the bench of the golf cart, and as he climbed in next to her he couldn’t help but picture her stretched across his lap.

You put her over your knees and she’ll feel your cock growin’. You want that?

NO!

Put her against the wall, or over the couch.

But I wanna feel her wrigglin’ against me. It’s been so damn long.

Slippery slope…

I’ll figure it out when I get there.

Doing his best to shake the silent conversation, he drove up the knoll and rolled to a stop outside the small house, then jumping out he walked quickly around to her side and took her by the elbow.

“Come on, come and see,” he ordered.

As his fingers gripped her tightly, she felt the butterflies spring to life. The feeling was utterly different to that which she’d experienced with the cowboy who had grabbed her earlier, but before she had a chance to think about it further, Clint was bundling her through the door.

“Take a good look around,” he said sternly, releasing her arm as he closed the door behind them.

Amelia was aghast. Her eyes had fallen upon the buffet displaying his spanking implements, and frozen to the spot she stared at the various crops, floggers, paddles and straps.

Watching her, his cock coming to life, he broke into a small smile. Her eyes were huge, and he had no doubt she was experiencing an unexpected gush of wetness between her legs.

Finally able to shift her gaze her eyes wandered across the room, and she spied the spanking chair; moving towards it she stared in wonder. On first glance it looked like an oddly shaped wooden chair, but then she saw the extensions folded against and under it.

Holy crap, I guess if you’re in this thing your arms and legs could be tied in all kinds of strange position
s.

Her gaze continuing past it she spotted the leather couch with the wide, padded arms, their use immediately apparent, then hearing a noise she looked across to the small kitchenette and saw Clint pulling a beer from the refrigerator. He looked back at her but said nothing, and taking a deep breath she walked across and stood on the opposite side of the granite counter.

“So, uh, this is where you, uh do it?” she muttered.

“You can’t bring yourself to say the word, can you?” he frowned.

“I do find it difficult, yes,” she admitted.

“Yep, this is where I spank the brattiness out of the women who need it,” he stated, locking her eyes.

“That girl…?”

“That girl is none of your beeswax,” he said firmly. “I keep everythin’ strictly confidential. If they gossip they come back for a second dose.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” she nodded quietly.

“Now then, what are we gonna do about you?” he asked putting his beer on the counter and walking around to stand beside her.

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently.

“Please don’t pull that crap on me,” he scolded. “It’s not gonna help your cause.”

The heat that had crossed her face was turning into a blazing fire, and unable to look at him she studied her fingernails.

“I’m really sorry,” she stammered. “I know it was wrong of me to try to look through the windows.”

“Remember what I said the other night when I told you about that girl I spanked?” he asked, his tone softening.

“You said a lot, which part?” she asked, still unable to look at him.

“The part about the cat.”

“Oh, that, yes, I remember. I’m really sorry, it was wrong of me, I know.”

“See, the thing is, Amelia, I don’t think you’re sorry at all. I think you’re sorry you got caught, but I think you’d do exactly the same thing again. Am I wrong?”

Turning towards the counter, she ran her hands across the cool, hard surface.

“Maybe not,” she muttered. “I am a naturally inquisitive person.”

“You, young lady, are a naughty, nosey parker,” he declared, “and I’m gonna give you a choice.”

Not wanting to lift her eyes, and aware of a fresh hammering in her chest, she brought her top teeth to her lower lip and bit down.

Shit, here it comes. I know one of the choices will be a spanking. Shit, shit, shit.

“You can either leave, right now, and never come back, or I can punish you, and yep, that means spank you. Afterwards you can ride Jiminy, though you’ll be a trifle sore, and you can ride him every day if you want, and I’ll help you with your paddocks as I promised, and we can remain friends. Your choice.”

“I, uh, that’s never happened,” she stammered.

“You’ve never been spanked?”

“No, never.”

“Then it’s about time, and it certainly explains a lot,” he remarked. “Lack of boundaries, nosiness, which you call curiosity, and I’m sure there are countless other-”

“Okay,” she interrupted, and finally lifting her eyes to meet his, she murmured, “yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asked, locking her gaze.

“Yes, choice number two.”

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I choose for you to spank me,” she breathed.

As he stared down at her, his hardness pressing against his trousers, he could feel her need. She wanted him to kiss her, to wrap his arms around her, to hold her tightly against him, to press his chest against her breasts, and to completely consume her.

Put her against the wall, there’s no way you can have her over your knee and not lose your mind.

You’re right.

“Go and stand about three feet out, facing the wall over there,” he instructed, pointing to the open area behind the couch. “Lean on your hands waist-high, and arch your back.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, and dropping her head she moved slowly across the room.

As he watched her take up the position he’d described, he knew the butterflies were fluttering in her stomach, he knew she was filled with a hot, nervous apprehension, and he knew he was about to do something she’d suddenly discovered she desperately wanted.

He was all too aware that many women carried the inherent desire to have their bottom warmed by a caring man, or to be tied and hungrily taken, devoured with an uninhibited passion, but for some the need didn’t surface until later in life. His Dominant instinct told him she wanted to be spanked very badly and had probably been thinking about little else since that first night at Tom’s Tavern.

Walking across to his buffet to select the right implement, resisting the temptation to use his hand, he impulsively changed his mind. It was too exquisite a moment; he had to feel it, he had use his palm, he had to fondle her flesh and experience the intimate connection his hand would deliver.

As he turned and moved towards her, his eyes feasting on the luscious sight, he knew he was crossing a line; this was personal, this was real, and he knew exactly where it could lead.

A
melia shuddered as his fingers whispered across her backside. She could imagine what a provocative picture she made, and it was fueling an intense craving that had sprung to life. She was humiliated but filled with a carnal heat, she was mortified but tantalized beyond her dreams, she was embarrassed but electric sparks were flying off his fingertips.

A moan escaped her lips as his fingers became his palm, and he cupped her cheeks, one, then the other.

“I know what you’re feelin’,” he whispered, his breath kissing her neck. “I know how delicious and decadent you feel, I know how hot you are, and I know how much you don’t want me to know it.”

“Ooooh,” she bleated, completely at a loss of words.

“This isn’t what I do with the others who have been here, you need to know that. You understand what I’m tellin’ you?”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered.

“Now I’m gonna spank you, and I’m gonna spank you so you’ll know you’ve been punished, but not anywhere near as hard as I could, or probably should.”

“Th-thank you,” she managed.

“One rule, don’t be throwin’ your hands behind you. It ticks me off, and you don’t want me to be ticked off while I’m warmin’ your behind. Got it?”

“Okay, I won’t,” she promised.

Standing at her side he smoothed his hand over the britches, wishing he could yank them down and spank her bare skin, but he knew it would be too much, and not just for her. Deciding to land six on one side then six on the other he went to work, smacking with a moderate degree of zing. She made small uttering sounds, and as each smack landed a radiant heat traveled through his hand, down his arm, and straight to his loins.

Shifting sides he began on her opposite cheek, keeping the same slow, easy rhythm, relishing the plump bottom hidden beneath the thin fabric. Finishing the second round of smacks he paused, gazing with joy and admiration at the full seat in front of him. He could imagine her bound across his chair, his heavy flogger lashing with abandon, drawing a luscious wetness from her cunt.

“Clint,” she muttered.

“What is it?” he asked, moving to capture her eyes. They twinkled up at him, the green almost an emerald green, emanating a deep, lustful craving.

“Are you done?”

“Certainly not,” he frowned.

“Okay, just wanted to know,” she murmured,
thank God, I never want this to end.

He discerned the hidden message behind the question; it was one he’d heard many times before.

“I’m just gettin’ started,” he said firmly, and watched her eyes as the relief and joy danced across them.

Taking a step forward he circled her waist, and hearing her urgent gasp he smiled as he began slapping harder, landing the swats with a faster pace, sweeping his hand upwards to ignite a spicy sting. A few minutes passed and she began panting and squirming.

“Ooooh, Clint, please, I’m sorry, really I am, I’m sorry, I know it was wrong.”

He moved away, in no small part because of his cock surging in his trousers, begging for relief.

Damn, maybe I should stop. I need some private time, bad!