He hadn’t meant to say it. He’d certainly thought it, he’d thought it the moment she’d started drinking her wine, her green eyes staring at him over the rim of the glass. For a nanosecond he’d believed it had remained just that, a thought, then her eyes grew so big and she looked so stunned he knew he was wrong; the words had spilled out of his mouth.
“What did you say?” she whispered.
He stared at her, momentarily tongue-tied.
Shit. I can’t take it back. I don’t wanna take it back.
“Would you like me to repeat it?” he asked quietly.
“Um, I’m not sure,” yes, no, fuck, I can’t believe he said that, and why am I so fucking turned on by it. He wouldn’t actually do it, would he? Fuck!
“It’s not rocket science,” he smiled feigning a calm he didn’t feel, then her blatant nervousness pushed him forward. “I said, after dinner, I’m gonna spank you.”
Repeating the simple statement helped; he was feeling his confidence return in the unfamiliar moment. Throughout his life he’d certainly threatened, suggested, hinted, and on more than a few occasions had pulled the bad girl directly over his knee without warning, but he’d never sat across a table and made the statement so blatantly.
“Are you serious? I mean, why?” she stammered, then nervously added,“wait, are you just joking around?”
Her face had turned beet red, and he suspected the gusset of her panties was moist, very moist.
“If I was jokin’ around I’d be laughin’, and the why? You mean besides the obvious? Anyone that has the word naughty in front of their name is due a spankin’,” he said softly, then he leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “I did tell you earlier that you needed a spankin’, twice if I recall.”
“But, um…”
“You’re right, there is a butt and as I said I will spank it after dinner, and there’s another but. I’ll spank you only if you want me to. You can think about it. If you decide it’s something you want, I promise it won’t be real hard.”
If I want? Seriously? I wish my heart would stop hammering. How am I going to eat anything now? My stomach is doing cartwheels.
“You can give me your answer when I walk you back to your room.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
How can I even focus on the menu, or anything else for that matter?
She looked like a deer in headlights, and he reached across the table and took her hand.
“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Let’s talk about the town, our mutual friend Helen and how you know her, and I’ll tell you a bit about my horses. The mare I’m gonna to put you on is called Trixie, and she’s a real sweetie. She likes beginners, she’ll take real good care of you.”
“Trixie, what a cute name for a horse,” she managed. Am I really talking about a horse with the threat of a spanking over my head. No, worse, a spanking I have to decide if I want?
“She looks like a Trixie,” he remarked, “at least I think she does. Sometimes we humans give our animals names that don’t suit them at all.”
In spite of the growing wetness between her legs she kept herself together, but as the meal continued she found herself aching to feel his kiss, and a dire fear attached to a confusing desire to be spanked.
Somehow she managed to chat about how she met Helen at college, then her excitement about seeing his ranch and sitting on a horse, but by the time their plates had been cleared she couldn’t contain herself a minute longer.
“I seriously cannot believe you said that to me,” she exclaimed in a hushed whisper.
“Oh, so you’ve made up your mind then? You want me to spank you?”
“What if I said no?”
“Then I’d walk you to your door and say goodnight.”
“That’s it? No drama?”
“Not from me. I’m not into drama. Are you sayin’ no?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Maybe I should I tell you what I’m thinking?”
“If you want,” he smiled, “but I can guess.”
“You can? Okay, what am I thinking?”
“You’re thinkin’ somethin’ like this. What’s wrong with me? I really want him to spank me, but I don’t. Should I do this? How’s that? Am I close?”
“Yes, you’re close,” she said softly.
“What is it about it that scares you?”
“Everything.”
“You need it.”
“I do?”
“Yep, you do, for many reasons.”
“Like?”
“First, you’re a brat, and you need some of that brattiness spanked out of you, but tonight wouldn’t be about that. Tonight would be about helpin’ you calm down a bit, and understandin’ that you can let go.”
“Fuck.”
“And I will definitely spank your butt for swearin’ all the time. Take this as a promise, the next time you use that word I will swat you, hard, and it won’t matter where we are.”
His smoky-blue eyes were locked on hers, and the heat sprang between her legs at the same time it flushed across her face.
“Would you excuse me for a minute?”
“Of course. I’ll order us somethin’ delicious for dessert.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” she mumbled standing up.
He watched her rise and walk slowly to the ladies room; he understood completely. She needed some space to clear her head and gather her thoughts, and whatever she decided it was fine by him. At some point it would happen; it wasn’t a matter of if, but when, and they both knew it.
The waitress returned and handed him the small leather folder listing the sweet things on offer, and he was just about to order when he saw her walking back. She had an odd look on her face, and instinctively he handed the menu back to the waitress.
“I don’t think we’ll be havin’ dessert after all,” he said. “Just put the check on my tab and add twenty percent.”
“Thanks, Beau,” she smiled. “It’s always good to see you.”
Nicole settled into her chair as the waitress left, and taking a deep breath she picked up her napkin and starting fiddling with it.
“I haven’t ordered anythin’,” he said.
“That’s okay,” she murmured. “Beau?”
“Yes, Nickie?”
“I do want dessert,” she breathed, “but not that kind. I want the other kind.”
“You mean, the kind I deliver while you’re over my knee?”
She stared at him, then slowly nodded her head.
“I don’t even know why. I mean, I feel strange even thinking about it.”
“You’ll soon find out why,” he grinned.
Rising from the table he took her hand, and wrapping his fingers firmly around hers he led out of the dining room and down the long hallway to the elevator; as they waited for it to arrive she leaned against him.
“This is so weird,” she whispered.
“It’s not, but I know you feel that way,” he replied dropping her hand and putting his arm around her shoulder.
The elevator arrived, and walking inside he pulled her against his chest, hugged her tightly, and didn’t let her go until it dinged their arrival on her floor. He kept an arm around her as they headed down the passageway, but when they reached the door she fumbled nervously with the card key.
“Let me,” he said softly.
Taking it from her hand he slid it into the metal box; the light turned green and she let out a long sigh.
“Maybe I’m not…um…can I change my mind?” she whispered as they entered and the door fell shut behind them.
“Of course you can,” he said.
“Thanks for a lovely dinner and, uh, everything,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “I’ll pick you up around ten. Be sure to have a light breakfast.”
He turned, heading to the door, and was almost there when she rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
“Beau, please, before you leave, please will you kiss me?”
He stared down at her and saw the crease of need crossing her face; lifting his hand he clutched a fistful of hair, gently pulled her head back, and dropped his lips to hers.
Her demanding passion brimmed over as he kissed her, and as his mouth devoured hers and his cock stirred, his heart began pumping fervently against his chest. The kiss refused to die; his lips lingered, his tongue pushed between her teeth, and her muffled moans floated like a lullaby in the air, until finally breaking apart he grabbed her and held her tightly against him, relishing the feel of her breasts against his chest.
“Damn,” he whispered, inhaling the spicy sweet scent of her hair.
“Fuck, Beau, that was-”
His hand landed on her bottom so fast and with such a sting she was momentarily paralyzed. The thin cotton of her dress had offered no protection, and she stood motionless, living the startling reality, then with a consciousness of forethought she gripped the back of his jacket and readied herself.
“Fuck!” she repeated.
The second smack was harder, and landed directly on top of the first.
“Fuck!”
Moving his hand to her opposite cheek he dispatched a volley of three quick, sharp spanks.
“OW, OWWW.”
Yanking her head back he studied her face; her eyes were blazing and her face was bright red.
“Okay, Nickie, now you’re goin’ over my knee.”