Chapter Four
Kayleigh stared at Bastian for a full thirty seconds. He wanted her to listen to what he said, as he was seemingly hell-bent on changing up her mood, but could she do it? Could she listen to him knowing some sort of consequence might follow? Several dozen seconds passed while she debated her options and stared into his eyes. Finally, Kayleigh slid herself off of his lap, and then sauntered over to the couch. She'd forgotten about the reindeer face on her butt, so her sexy walk probably didn't turn him on the way she intended. Her PJs mimicked a much younger style, complete with red and white stripes, footies, and a reindeer face on her butt. They were so warm and cozy. It had been a huge splurge along with a few younger styled pieces of clothing she'd bought about a year ago, but she never got the chance to wear them since she no longer lived alone. She didn't believe her parents would understand what she wanted, so she never went into details with them. Now, with Bastian finding her letter and showing similar interest, she didn't need to explain herself or why she had on kid pajamas.
Bastian grabbed the gorgeous hairbrush and a silly holiday coin decoration from under the tree. It had Santa's face on one side and his hindquarters and boots stuck in a chimney on the other side. It had always made her laugh as a child, but she didn't feel like laughing at the moment. What was he going to do with that? She raised an eyebrow, her interest thoroughly piqued.
"Call it. Heads or tails?" He twirled the coin as he spoke.
"Why?"
"If the coin lands on heads, then I'll brush your hair. You can tell me everything on your mind, and we can move on with the day. Tails?" A grin broke out over his lips. "Well, you'll still tell me what's on your mind, but it will be after I've applied this brush to your behind."
"You can't do that."
"Call it." He flipped the coin in the air, caught it and slapped his palm over it.
"Heads. Duh." She’d picked what was the obvious choice was in her mind, but the odds were stacked in his favor. If she called heads and it landed on tails, a spanking occurred. If she called tails and it landed on tails, a spanking still occurred. I wish I’d paid more attention to all the outcomes. A logic equation would have worked wonders here.
“Tails."
"Best two out of three?" She pouted, but deep down, she'd been wanting this for so long. Kayleigh had tried to get other men in her life to spank her for fun, but they all had failed miserably. Her ex-boyfriend had occasionally swatted her ass before they had sex, but nothing related to discipline. No, Bastian's method of correction had stayed on her mind all these years, and no one else could match it, but then why had she been fighting him so hard on this?
"Nope. Take off the pajamas." He gestured for her to hurry. "The fabric is so thick you won't feel a thing."
Heat flushed over her face, but she did as he commanded. She bit down on her lip as she stood nearly naked in front of him wearing only ruffled panties with gingerbread cookies printed all over them.
"Panties too."
"If you want them so badly, take them off yourself."
Bastian reached forward and hooked a finger on either side of the flimsy garment then yanked them off. He pocketed her panties and raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"
Shit. He meant business. Moisture pooled in between her thighs, and she pressed her legs together as if she could keep her arousal at bay. Snark usually worked in this scenario, or at least it had with all the other men she had ever encountered. Of course, Bastian never did as she predicted. Maybe he wanted a disciplinary only relationship. She wondered if his definition included more intimate moments or not.
"Whatever. Do you like what you see? Are you aroused?" Kayleigh purred.
"I'll like the sight a lot more when your ass is as red as a famous reindeer's nose." Bastian took her hand in his, and slid it along her sex. He brought her hand up to his mouth and licked off her honey. "Seems you're enjoying this more than you've let on."
"I'm not." Her breath hitched. She hated the way her body reacted to his touches, but she could not do anything to hide it. She’d longed for his caress for so many years.
"We don't have rules established, honey, but I will not tolerate lies in any form. You were grinding against my cock before." Bastian bent her over the couch and smacked his hand on each side of her ass. "You think I didn't feel it?" He slapped the fullest part of her bottom several more times in a row.
"Ouch!" She arched upward, but his free hand pressed her down into the cushions. "I don't know what you're talking about. Please?"
"Please what?" He traced the curve of her butt, then kept spanking. "Please stop, or please keep going?"
"I don't know." She exhaled sharply. How could she explain to him that she wanted both? Bastian alternated light taps and sharp smacks to every inch of her full globes and down to the top of her thighs. Over and over his hand landed. When she feared he might not stop, he paused and rubbed his palm across each of her heated cheeks. The tiny gesture worried her. Two heavy blows suddenly hit her right side and then her left. Then two more followed by another two. Kayleigh threw her hands over her butt and stopped the brush from falling again. "Enough, Bastian!"
"Drop them, Kay."
"Or?"
"Or we're going to flip that coin again. This time it'll determine which end I fuck first."
Of all the consequences he could have threatened, she'd never expected that one to fly out of his mouth. Part of it tightened her belly, but the other part caused fire to surge through her veins. She shot to her feet and turned around to face him. "You have some nerve. I've wanted you for so many years, and all you've ever done is reject me."
"Let me dust off your memories since you only called up the negative ones. It's been our tradition for almost twenty years to have Christmas Eve dinner at your house. Ever since you graduated high school, your favorite game seemed to be the 'my date is hotter than you' game. You would show up fashionably late, in the shortest skirt imaginable, with an arm draped over your boy toy. Most of the time, you picked a gentleman who wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree if you know what I mean."
"All of the men," she corrected his disparaging remark, "whom I've brought home, were of adequate intelligence but, of course, no one can match your brains." Kayleigh knew better than to argue with his recollection of events. Bastian had a near photographic memory when it came to people, places, and gatherings. Law school had shaped him well, but he would have made a fine detective if he'd picked it as a career choice instead. "What else have I forgotten?"
"Five years ago. My girlfriend at the time fell asleep early, drunk on adult hot cocoa. You jumped into my lap. To be fair, you weren't sober. Do you remember what you told me?"
"Yeah. I wanted to suck on your candy cane and jingle your sleigh bells." She pouted. "You didn't accept my offer."
"Oh, no. You missed my counter offer, sweetheart." Bastian shook his head. "I replied you could engage in some magical holiday antics with me, but only if we were a couple. Your eggnog addled brain must have forgotten."
"Hm." She had let his reply slip from her memory. "I guess so. What else?"
"Three years ago, you cornered me under the mistletoe and whispered into my ear as I kissed your cheek. Do you recall what you said?"
"Something along the lines of how I pictured your face whenever I made out with my boyfriend." She'd replayed that moment so many times. It had been a huge mistake on her part, but she hadn't been sober for that holiday either.
"What did I say back to you?"
Kayleigh shrugged. "I don't know."
"I told you to get rid of that bozo and to give me a chance. At least you made the good choice to leave him after he put his hands on you." Bastian set the hairbrush down on the couch.
"Well, it wasn't my immediate decision, but after my ex threw me out of his swanky loft in the city, I didn't have much choice."
"Threw you down a stairwell in said swanky loft," Bastian clarified. "According to the police report."
"How did you get a copy?" She rubbed the back of her neck. "Never mind. It makes a lot more sense since I heard you and Rhett kicked his ass the next night."
"Your statement is conjectured. Meaning you have no proof."
"Remind me never to get into an actual argument with you," she huffed. "Listen, I'm not a doctor, but I've watched enough Grey's Anatomy to understand how difficult it is to break multiple bones while alone in your own house. Some sort of trauma had to occur."
"Watching a television show does not make you a medical expert. For the record, most serious accidents do occur while alone in your own home. Though most people wouldn't classify a broken clavicle, three fingers on his non-dominant hand, and a few toes overly traumatic. After your ex-boyfriend left the emergency room, he had his mommy and daddy whisk him off to a private island to recover." Bastian exhaled slowly. "What are you getting at, Kay?"
"I'm not sure, but all of that is from a while ago. You don't have recent shit to throw at me." She bit down on her lip, a gesture she seemed to do around him a lot. Bastian hadn't rejected her as often as she'd believed he had. No, she had been so vamped up on the revenge train, seduce and destroy, she'd disregarded his genuine attempts.
"I'm not throwing anything at you, darling, I'm just brushing away some cobwebs. Eighteen months ago, I drove three and half hours down to see you, but I arrived to an empty house. I supposed you had better things to do than talk to me. You never bothered to apologize."
"I'm sorry I didn't invite you in that night. I saw you in the driveway, and I heard you ring the doorbell, but I got scared."
"What made you scared?"
"The thought of seeing you. I didn't want to disappoint you more than I already had. I told you a lot of things on the phone. I opened up to you about my career and how worried I was about the future and how insecure I am in relationships. I'm an even bigger mess today. Why the hell would you want to take a chance on me then or now?"
"I took a chance because you needed a friend. I drove out there to help you without the expectation of anything more. If we'd wound up in a more intimate relationship, then it would have been great, but I had no intention of pressuring you. I'm taking a chance today because I'm ready to support you in whatever way you need in order to get you back on track. I love you, Kay. I always have."
"I should have apologized numerous times. Whenever I saw you, I wanted to get back at you for childish reasons. Doing so just prolonged my own misery and probably confused you. I've loved you since forever. Will you forgive me?"
"Of course, but you have to do something for me first." Bastian picked up the hairbrush. "Get back in the position I put you in."
"Then?" she asked sincerely. Someone like him should not be staring at her with such an implement in his hand, but he looked so damn sexy even while the threat of another round of correction loomed.
"You'll get five on each side."
"Which is ten. I know how to add numbers." She resigned herself to follow the command, and folded herself over the couch cushions. "Then?"
"You're such a little brat." He targeted each of her sit spots with his hand and smacked hard. "We aren't discussing what may happen after. No more surmising. Count."
"One." She braced herself. Fuck. The brush walloped each side with a resounding thud. If Bastian had created this scenario to change her mindset, she imagined an actual punishment would be unbearable. "Two." The next pair followed in fast succession. "Three."
"Stay still." Bastian pressed his palm down on her lower back and delivered the next set.
"Four," she cried out when they landed. The intensity hadn't changed, but Bastian broke through her mental walls with the last blow. Kayleigh sobbed into the plush cushions, unable to continue. She hoped he wouldn't be too angry. So many times she'd wanted him to magically show up and take care of her, but for it to play out in reality seemed overwhelming. Emotions and memories she hadn't thought about in years surfaced and rushed forward.
"Good girl." He scooped her up against him and arranged them on the couch. "Let it out."