Chapter Eleven

 

 

Lily woke. She ached, everywhere. Her bottom smarted, between her legs felt raw. If pushed, she would describe herself as well used and utterly sated.

She rolled over in the bed, reached out and found emptiness.

“Ben? Sir?” She shoved her tangled hair from her face as she struggled to sit up.

Christ, her arse hurt. And her shoulders ached, but it was a good sort of pain. She peered about her, taking in more of the details of Ben’s bedroom—plain, practical bedding in dark colours, the dark grey roller blind at the window that eliminated all light, or would if there were any outside. It was already late evening, she guessed, though she had no idea how long she’d been asleep. It felt like ages. The furniture was old-fashioned, solid, oak she thought, the sort of thing that was built to last several lifetimes. No doubt a legacy from Aunt Babs though Lily imagined that in the past the tops would have been cluttered with knick-knacks and keepsakes. Ben had mentioned donating lots of his aunt’s things to charity already.

A television was mounted on the wall opposite the bed. Lily fancied that would be another of Ben’s changes. For a temporary resident he had certainly made himself at home.

The sound of running water reached her. The shower? No, it was coming from further away. The kitchen. Her stomach growled, reminding her she had yet to sample the promised spaghetti Bolognese. Gingerly she eased herself to the edge of the bed and dangled her feet over the side.

The floor was wood, polished to a fine sheen, the area closest to the bed softened by a deep pile rug, also in a vibrant shade of dark blue. She sank her feet into it and flexed her toes. It felt luxurious, indulgent.

The room was warm, but Lily’s bare nipples were already hardening again as the air brushed them. Her clothes lay where she had left them, neatly folded on a chair close to the foot of the bed. She ignored those and instead reached for Ben’s discarded black T-shirt, which was closer to her, strewn on the duvet. It smelled deliciously of him, male and musky, the slightly citrus tang of his aftershave still lingering in the soft fabric.

The shirt reached to her mid-thighs. It seemed decent enough to Lily, not that this particularly mattered. Barefoot, she padded out into the hallway to seek out Ben.

He was in the kitchen, his back to her as he stirred a pan on the stove. Barefoot like her, he wore only his jeans, which hung loose about his waist, the snap fastener undone. His dark blond hair was roughly finger combed, a sexy mess reaching just past the nape of his neck. His shoulders were muscled, the deltoids well defined. His back tapered to a narrow waist, and Lily’s mouth watered at the slight indentations of his spine as he moved and stretched to adjust the heat under his pan.

How had she, skinny little Lily Jamison, normally shy as a mouse and the very embodiment of propriety, managed to snare such a fine-looking male? And she’d not only snared him. She’d let him take a belt to her, plug her arse, and fuck her nearly senseless? The late Mrs. Jamison would be spinning in her grave at such antics.

Tough. Lily stepped forward into the kitchen.

“Hi.”

He turned, his smile dazzling. “Hi, yourself. Nice sleep?”

“Yes. What time is it?”

“Just after nine. Hungry?”

“Ravenous. That smells good.”

“My speciality Bolognese sauce. I’ve a limited, somewhat select repertoire, but I think you’ll like it.”

Lily was sure she would. “Can I help?”

“No, I’ve got this. Take a seat at the table, if you can.” He offered her a knowing smirk. “Help yourself to wine.”

In the dining-cum-sitting room, she eyed the wooden chairs with distaste. “Maybe I could eat standing up…” Lily called out to Ben in the next room.

“Go and make yourself comfortable on the sofa. I’ll be through in a minute and we’ll eat in front of the television.”

Grateful for the reprieve, Lily shuffled across to the sofa and eased herself onto it, lying on her side. Ben joined her a few moments later.

“Roll over onto your stomach. I have some cream here should take the sting out a bit.” He pulled a tube of aloe vera lotion from his back pocket.

“I thought you wanted it to hurt.”

“For a punishment, then yes. But we were playing, so you get some help afterwards. So, roll over and lift up the T-shirt.”

Lily did as she was told, shivering despite the central heating as she exposed her backside yet again for inspection.

“Loving those stripes. Your skin is so sensitive, it marks beautifully. They’ll take days to properly fade.”

She shouldn’t have found this news quite so gratifying, surely. Lily stretched and clenched her sore buttocks as Ben caressed her tender cheeks.

“Hold still.” He squeezed a dollop of lotion onto his fingers, then started to apply it to the marks. He treated each one individually, smoothing the cream into the redness, pressing just hard enough to hurt. The lotion cooled and soothed, and her skin was soon slick with the moisturising oils contained within it. Ben spread his palms wider over her bottom cheeks and rubbed in large, slow circles. Her bottom felt pleasantly sore as the effects of Ben’s ministrations seeped deep into her tissues.

“That feels wonderful.” Lily stretched, catlike. She almost purred. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Dom school,” he answered. “No spanking is complete until the aftercare is done.”

“Dom school?” Lily turned her head to peer up at him. “Is there really such a thing?”

“Yeah, sort of. There are practice sessions in clubs, demos, a whole body of BDSM knowledge to consult. A decent dom needs to know some basic medical information, and he needs to be able to find his way around the female anatomy without a compass—all very useful. The psychological stuff comes with time, and getting to know each sub individually.”

Each sub? Lily stiffened.

“Do you have someone else you do this with? At home?”

“I’ve played with a lot of submissives, Lily. You must realise that.”

She did. He’d had a lot of practise, that much was obvious.

“But, is there someone…?” How to describe it? “A girlfriend, perhaps?”

“No. No girlfriend, no significant other. Apart from you, of course.”

“Me?”

“You’re very significant to me, Lily.” His voice had lowered. He leaned over her and pushed the hair from her neck, then kissed the exposed skin. “And right now, there’s only you.”

“Me too,” she whispered. “Only you.”

“Nice and simple, just how I like things.” He sat up again. “The pasta should be ready by now.”

Lily blinked, brought back to the basic realities of life. Hunger reasserted itself. “Bring it on, Sir.”

 

* * *

 

“What will you do if we can’t manage to track down Luke? Any other plans, apart from stalking Charles Havers?” Ben nuzzled her hair with his nose.

“Not really. I don’t know…”

“Will you stay in Mytholm Bridge? Surely you need to get back to Devon at some point? Your university?”

“Are you saying I should leave?” She turned to face him. “I thought we got along okay? I mean, earlier…”

He tightened his arms around her. “We do get on okay. More than okay. It’s not that. I’m just… puzzled. How would you say the research is coming along? What do your tutors think?”

“I… I haven’t had a chance to discuss it yet. It’s still early and I need to find out more.”

He was quiet for a few moments, then, “Lily, you do know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

“I know. We do talk. We’re talking now.”

“We are, but I’m not sure you’re telling me the truth. Or not all of it.”

“What do you mean? Why would I be lying? I am researching Grace Havers…”

“Yes, I can see that. But I’m wondering why.”

“My PhD…”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’ll help you if I can, whatever your reasons.”

“But—”

“Okay, enough of that. Do you want to stay the night?”

Lily shifted in his arms. “Do you want me to?”

He kissed her hair. “I do. Apart from anything else, you can help me clean up in the morning.” The floor around the sofa was littered with empty bowls, cutlery, wineglasses, and the remains of their Malbec.

Lily yawned, exhausted suddenly but relieved at the shift in subject. Tidying the supper debris was much safer territory than having Ben poke about on her own littered decks, and dealing with his probing, however gentle. “We could do it now. I really ought to go back. Gina will be wondering.”

“Text her.” Ben fumbled under the cushion beside him and produced his phone. “You can make an appearance for breakfast. In fact, get me an invite too.”

Lily didn’t require a lot of persuading. She keyed in the message then handed back the phone. “I brought some stuff. My toothbrush…”

“Good girl.” He stood easily, with her still in his arms.

“I can walk,” Lily protested.

“Shut up, and lose the T-shirt. I need to fuck you again.”

She did as she was told. It was becoming a habit.

 

* * *

 

The following morning they did justice to Gina’s bacon, eggs, beans, fried mushrooms, and tomato. Ben even tried the black pudding, a local delicacy made of pork blood and oatmeal, though Lily loathed the stuff. In deference to his American tastes Gina promised hash browns for the next day.

Ben’s phone trilled as they lingered over coffee.

“My agent, in Leeds. The firm who’s selling the shop, or trying to.” He took the call, frowning as he listened to the report.

“Okay. Yes, I see. I’ll come over this morning. About ten thirty?” He ended the call. “I’ve had an offer for the shop and flat. My agent wants to meet with me to discuss it.”

“An offer? So, it’s sold?” Lily’s heart sank. Ben was only here to oversee the sales process. He would have no reason to stay after the transaction was completed.

“Maybe. Do you want to come with me?”

“To Leeds?” She shook her head. “Do you mind if I stay here? I might do a bit of shopping, maybe drive over to Hebden Bridge. I’ve heard it’s lovely there. And Mel might get in touch. I ought to be around, just in case.”

“She has your number, and mine. But you’re probably right to skip the meeting. It won’t be that interesting and I can tell you what the score is when I get back. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or so. I might even be back in time for lunch.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” Lily stood up, then on impulse leaned down to kiss him. “I… I hope they offer you a lot of money.”

He smirked up at her. “They better if they want me to part with Babs’ café.”

 

* * *

 

The reports about Hebden Bridge were not exaggerated. This was Lily’s conclusion as she sat in the bustling square at the heart of the old town. Packed with small, independent shops, it was perhaps a little smarter than Mytholm Bridge, more touristy. And more expensive. She glanced at her watch. It was almost twelve and she was hungry again. She was always hungry these days, it seemed. Lily considered buying a sandwich from one of the many delicatessens and eating it in the open. The tuna on rye had looked nice at that place just around the corner…

Her phone buzzed. Ben, perhaps? She pulled it from her bag.

Meet me for lunch. Please.

She almost texted back yes without thinking. Then she spotted the sender ID.

The message was from Harry Murgatroyd.

Lily stared at her phone. Why on earth would Harry Murgatroyd want to have lunch with her?

She keyed in her reply. Is there a problem? Something to do with Mel?

No. But I do need to talk to you. It’s important.

What?

Over lunch. Where are you?

I can’t, sorry. Ben’s in Leeds just now but I’m having lunch with him later. Maybe we could meet you on a different day. Tomorrow?

Today. Please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.

What’s so urgent it can’t wait until tomorrow? Has Mel got some information about Luke?

Yes, and I can tell you about that when we meet.

Hope stirred again, and excitement. If Harry Murgatroyd had news of Luke she wanted to know. Just text me the details now.

It’s complicated. We do need to talk and I have something to show you. Where are you now?

Hebden Bridge. Why was she even telling him that? There was something very compelling about this man.

Great. I’ll meet you there in half an hour. Don’t go away.

Lily hesitated, then, Okay.

 

* * *

 

He found her still seated on her bench in the square. Lily stood as Harry Murgatroyd marched across the flags in her direction. He was dressed in smart casual attire, not his work clothes though it was a Monday, a working day, surely. He stopped before her—tall, handsome, attractive in a way she found both disturbing and indescribable.

His smile was disarming. “Thank you for this. For agreeing to meet me.”

“You didn’t give me much choice.”

“Sorry. I’m not usually so pushy, I promise. But this can’t wait.”

“News of Luke?”

“That, but there’s more. Where shall we eat?”

“I’m not that hungry.” Her appetite of earlier had evaporated.

“Come on, I know a place.”

Lily found herself following him along the street to a bright little Italian trattoria. Inside, Harry made for a corner table and gestured Lily to sit down. She sank onto the narrow bench, and forgot to conceal her wince.

“Something wrong?” He looked concerned.

Lily shook her head. “No, just a bit… stiff. I’ve been walking…”

Harry shoved the menu across the table. “The soup’s good here. Beef and vegetable, and they do a nice crusty home-baked bread thing.”

He’d obviously been here before. Lily bowed to his better judgement. “That sounds fine.”

Harry ordered their meals at the counter, paid for the food, then returned to sit opposite her. He eyed her seriously, and Lily cringed under his direct and uncompromising scrutiny. She decided his interest was verging on rudeness.

“You’re staring at me,” she accused.

“How old did you say you were, Lily?”

“What?” The question was more than a bit random. “I didn’t say.”

“A PhD student? That’d make you at least twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“I’m twenty-five. Not that this has anything to do with—”

“No, you’re not. You’re twenty-two. Twenty-three next month, on the eleventh if I remember correctly.”

Lily sat open-mouthed, stunned. What on earth would make him say that? He wasn’t far off, her birthday was actually on the thirtieth. And she would be twenty-three.

“I don’t understand? How…? Why?”

“You can’t be twenty-five. You’re not even Lily Jamison, are you? That isn’t your real name.”

Lily made to stand, but quickly realised she had been manoeuvred into the corner. She couldn’t leave unless he rose also to let her out.

“Sit down, Lily. I’ll call you that for now, if you like. And listen.” His tone was stern, though not like Ben’s was. Ben could assume an air of authority that was irresistible. Even so, there was a commanding presence about Harry Murgatroyd, and Lily subsided back onto the bench, her sore bottom forgotten.

“What do you want? Who are you?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she gazed into the hard, handsome features of the man across from her. “Do I know you?”

“Maybe. I know you, I’m sure of it.” He opened his jacket and reached into the inner pocket to retrieve a set of photographs. He laid them on the table before her, family snapshots. He selected one and nudged it with his finger. “Does that look familiar?”

Lily gaped at the picture. Where had he got it from? When was that taken? It was a portrait shot of a girl, aged about twelve, an old-fashioned school photograph, the picture in black and white.

“That’s me,” she breathed. “But it can’t be. I never had that picture taken? This is some sort of Photoshop thing, right?”

“Wrong. The picture’s genuine. It’s my mother.”

“Your—?”

“My mother. Your grandmother, I suspect. Here, check out a few more. The family resemblance is uncanny, don’t you agree?”

In silence Lily scanned the array of snapshots. Holidays, a group of friends walking along the street, a woman on horseback. Her own face laughed back out of the images, a younger version, but the likeness was undeniable.

“What are you trying to say?” She lifted her fearful gaze to meet his. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This nightmare couldn’t really be unfolding, her carefully constructed facade crashing down around her ears. It was never meant to be like this. “Whatever it is, you must be mistaken. I’m Lily Jamison, from Devon.”

Harry shook his head slowly. His tone was gentle when he spoke, but firm, uncompromising. “No, you’re not Lily. You’re Grace Havers. From Mytholm Bridge. And I’m your father.”

 

* * *

 

Lily had no recollection at all of her journey back to Mytholm Bridge. She had refused to listen, to hear any more of Harry Murgatroyd’s misguided, ridiculous nonsense. It was a trick, a cruel joke. He had continued to speak, but the words became a jumble, incomprehensible to her. He was babbling on about DNA testing, about proof, about the need for the truth. It was too much. Lily had no use for his truth, or his version of it.

The waitress bringing their soup had gaped in amazement as Lily almost clambered over the table in her determination to escape. Harry had let her go, and she had fled the café without a backward glance. She must have run to her car, then driven back to the Black Horse in something of a daze. She abandoned the car in Gina’s car park and rushed inside, charged through the bar and straight upstairs. Once in her room she locked the door behind her and flung herself onto the bed. Even that wasn’t good enough, not safe enough. She pulled the quilt over her body, over her head, and she hid.

She wept too, until her throat hurt and her head ached. She felt sick, an awful, gnawing dread in the pit of her stomach. It wouldn’t stop, would never stop now that her secret was out.

Chapter Twelve

 

 

It was almost two-thirty by the time Ben drove back into Mytholm Bridge. The meeting with his agent had taken longer than he expected. They had much to discuss, it transpired, but he felt satisfied with the progress he’d made today. He parked his hired car in the small space at the rear of his empty shop and walked back along the main street in the direction of the pub. He texted Lily as he went.

Just got back. Is it too late for lunch?

He had received no reply by the time he arrived, but he spotted her car in the parking lot so assumed she must be back from her trip. Puzzled, he took in the haphazard way she’d left the vehicle, diagonally straddling two spaces. She’d parked it like she’d stolen it. Not his typical, neat Lily. Ben went into the bar.

“Is Lily about?” he asked Gina as she drew him the pint of chilled lager he requested.

“She is. Upstairs.” Gina eyed him with concern. “Did you two have a fight?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“Something’s upset her. She got back an hour ago and went straight up, not a word to me. She usually lets me know when she’s back. I only knew she was here when I saw the car.”

“Yeah. I saw it too.” He took a sip of the foaming beer and they exchanged a knowing look.

Gina propped her elbows on the bar. “I went up, about twenty minutes ago, to check if she’s all right. I knocked but she’s not answering. She’s in there, though. I could hear her. I think she was crying.”

Ben frowned. This was not what he wanted or expected to hear. The scene last night had been intense, he was ready to acknowledge that, but she had stayed the night with him, seemed perfectly fine. Still, sub-drop was unpredictable. And it was his responsibility to take care of her.

“I’ll go up.” He left his lager on the bar and headed for the stairs.

His knocking was met with silence from the other side of the locked door, though Ben had no reason to suppose she had sneaked out. He called out to her.

“Lily? I know you’re in there. Can I come in?”

Nothing.

“Lily, we’re worried about you. Gina and I. Just open the door. Please.”

Silence.

“Dammit, Lily. Open this fucking door.”

Not even his sternest dom voice could elicit the response he expected. Ben tunnelled his fingers through his hair, and contemplated kicking the door in.

“Go away.” Her voice was breathy, fractured as she still fought to hold back her weeping.

“Lily? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. This is me, Ben. I know something’s fucking wrong and I want to know what it is. Did you hear from Melanie?” Perhaps she had had disappointing news, though why she would descend into this state was a mystery.

She sighed, dragging in a long, ragged breath. “No, I didn’t hear from her. I’m not well. A… a migraine.”

“A migraine? You never said anything about migraines.”

“It doesn’t happen that often. I’ll be fine. I just need to be on my own.”

“At least open the door, let me see that you’ve got everything you need.”

“I have some painkillers. I just need to go back to bed.”

“Lily…”

“I’ll see you later.” Her footsteps could be heard crossing the room.

Ben knocked again. “Lily, open up. Do you need a doctor?”

“No,” she groaned. “Just… could you be quiet? My head aches. It’s bouncing, and…”

Migraine? Sub-drop? Ben wasn’t convinced but her explanation was plausible. Just.

“Okay. I’ll let you get some sleep now but I’ll be back later, in a couple of hours. Text me if you need anything. Gina’s downstairs too.”

Silence.

Ben turned and headed back to the stairs.

 

* * *

 

He returned to the Black Horse in the early evening to learn that Lily was still holed up in her room, had refused any food and her door remained firmly locked. He went up and tried again to convince her to let him inside. The outcome was much the same.

“I was asleep. You woke me.”

She did sound tired, he acknowledged. Weary even. “Sorry. Let me in.”

“No. It’s late.”

“It’s not even seven o’clock yet.”

“Isn’t it? Oh, I thought… Anyway, I’m tired. I’m going back to bed.”

“Lily…?”

“Please, just leave me alone. I don’t want to see anyone.”

“Are you sure this is only a migraine? Are you upset about what happened last night? Between us?”

“What are you talking about?” There was exasperation in her tone now, and frustration. “I told you, I’m ill. Why can’t you just leave it be?”

“Because I care about you, dammit. I need to know you’re all right.” She had no monopoly on frustration.

“You don’t care about me. You can’t. You don’t even know me.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“Just go away. I don’t need you. Or anyone.”

“Lily, this is nonsense. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Go. Away.”

“Right. I’ll be back tomorrow, and then you will talk to me, whether you like it or not.” He’d definitely kick the fucking door in if he had to.

 

* * *

 

Ben was back when the Black Horse opened at eleven the following morning. The news from Gina was not encouraging. Lily still refused to open her door, wouldn’t even answer Gina when she knocked.

“I let myself in with my passkey, just to make sure, you know…”

“Yeah. And?”

“She was in bed, the covers pulled up over her. I left her some breakfast on a tray and a pot of coffee. When I went back up an hour later the tray was out on the landing, more or less empty, and the coffee had all gone. I suppose she could have tipped it down the sink, but why would she bother?”

“True. I’m glad she ate something.”

“Are you sure you two haven’t had a row?” Gina peered at him suspiciously.

“No, we haven’t. She told me she had a migraine.”

“Yes, well, it’s showing no signs of going away then. How long do they usually last?”

“No idea. I’ll go up, try again.”

“Aye, you do that. Tell you what, why don’t you take her some more coffee up? She must be ready for another drink by now.”

Ben wasn’t sure about the combination of migraine and too much strong coffee, but anything was worth a try. He waited as Gina poured the beverage.

“Hey? Is that you, Ben Tyler?”

He swung around at the cheery female voice behind him. A woman stood there, aged perhaps thirty. Her long, dark hair was caught up in a ponytail on the top of her head. She wore faded jeans, a hooded top, and a wide, friendly smile. She looked vaguely familiar.

He cocked his head, puzzled. “Hello. Do I know you?”

“I’m Mel.” She offered her hand. “Mel Murgatroyd.”

“Melanie? Hello. Nice to see you.” He took her hand and shook it. “Did your brother tell you we were looking for you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I missed you that day, and it’s been a bit manic since. I’ve got twin boys, both down with chickenpox…”

“Ah, sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, well, my sister-in-law’s looking after them so I got to nip out. Harry told me Ben Tyler was back so I just wanted to catch you while you were still in town and say hello, after all these years. It’s been such a long time.”

“It has.” He smiled at her. “You’re looking well, Melanie.”

“You too. Do you have time for a drink? I’m working later, but I have half an hour. We could catch up.”

Ben considered Lily hiding away upstairs but decided the half hour might be well spent if Mel had news of Luke. At least he might have something positive to offer when he did go up there. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Do you want a coffee, or something else to drink?”

Mel ordered a diet cola then followed Ben to a corner table. “So, she began, “what have you been doing with yourself? How long has it been? Twenty years?”

“About that. I went back to the States, finished school. The usual.”

“But you’re here to sell the old café? Your auntie’s place?”

“That was the plan. Then I met up with Lily. Lily Jamison, the student doing the research into Grace Havers’ death. She asked me to help with some information and contacts from back then, and I got involved.”

Mel nodded. “Harry told me. She wants to get in touch with Luke.”

“That’s right. We were wondering if you had any idea where he might be now. I know you were… friends, back then.”

“I had a monster crush on him. And on you too, to be honest.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you? Anyway, I fancied Luke more. Sorry.”

Ben shrugged. “My loss. So, you stayed in touch with him, after he left?”

“Yes, for a while. He joined the army when he left school.”

“The army?” This was news. So, Luke was in the military. If he was still a serving soldier, it should be possible to trace him.

“That’s right. Parachute Regiment, I think. Always a bit of a daredevil, was Luke. Even more so after Grace died. He was never the same, after that. He became sort of reckless, as if he didn’t care anymore.”

Ben recalled a sad, grieving boy. His friend had been lost, devastated by the accident. He had withdrawn into himself. Clearly there was another side to Luke that Mel had seen and he hadn’t. Or maybe the change came later.

“Do you know if he’s still in the army?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him in years, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I had the impression he saw it as a career.”

“I’ll tell Lily. We might be able to track him down.”

“Oh, she knows. Harry told her.”

“Harry?” Ben regarded his companion carefully. “Your brother? When did he talk to Lily?”

“Er… yesterday, I think. Yes, it was yesterday.”

Mel watched him, wary. Ben schooled his features into something resembling calm.

“They had lunch…” she continued.

“Lunch?” This just got better.

“In Hebden Bridge,” added Mel.

“I see.”

Mel hurried on, anxious, it seemed, to explain. “He wanted to talk to her. And he knew how I was fixed, with the boys and all that, so he said he’d pass on the information about Luke being in the army. That’s why I didn’t bother to text or phone.”

Ben narrowed his eyes, assessing this new information that put an entirely different slant on the last few hours. “Why did your brother want to talk to Lily?”

Mel shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he did. I guess he was interested in her research.”

Ben thought otherwise. He hadn’t missed Harry’s expression of disbelief at the PhD cover story.

“What did they talk about?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But… I think they argued.”

“Argued?”

“She ran off. Left Harry sitting in the café.”

“Fuck! If your brother so much as laid a hand on her, I’ll—”

“No, no, it was nothing like that.”

“I remember exactly what he was like. Always sniffing after anyone with a pulse and a pussy.”

“That was a long time ago. He’s changed. He’s a family man these days, happily married.”

“Yeah, right. Where’s your bastard of a brother now? At the repair shop?” Ben rose. Whatever had happened in Hebden Bridge must be at the root of Lily’s distress and Harry Murgatroyd wasn’t getting away with it.

“He’s not there.” Mel stood too. “Really, he isn’t. He went to see someone, an old friend of his with a military background. I think he’s trying to find Luke. For Lily.”

“He needn’t fucking bother. You can tell your brother to stay away from Lily.”

Mel met his gaze, undaunted. “That’s up to her, surely. Not you.”

The sassy little mechanic might be right. Ben knew she was, but it still rankled. Lily had snuck off, behind his back to have lunch in secret with the town’s greatest womaniser. If it meant nothing, why hadn’t she told him about it, even afterwards? And if Harry had hit on her, why had she been so upset about it? Had Harry been violent? Threatened her? What was he missing here?

Ben was angry. Really pissed. He drew on all his dom reserves to quell his temper.

“Thank you for coming over. It’s been nice. But I need to talk to Lily…”

“Yes, I see that. And I really ought to be getting back.” Melanie backed away, already headed for the door.

Ben inclined his head, as polite as he could manage in the circumstances. He was seething. Harry owed him nothing, he supposed, and in any case Ben knew better than to trust him. But if he had anything to do with whatever had upset Lily, the bastard would get what was coming to him anyway.

But Lily was another matter entirely. She had bloody lied to him, keeping her fucking secrets and peddling her excuses about having a migraine. He wasn’t having that.

“Is everything all right?” Gina appeared at his side, a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. “Are you taking this up to Lily?”

“Did you know she went to meet with Harry Murgatroyd yesterday?”

“What? No. I didn’t even think she knew Harry.”

“They had an argument, apparently. According to Mel.”

“What about? I know they did some work on her car…”

“It was nothing to do with that.”

“What, then?”

“I don’t know, but I mean to find out.” He started for the stairs.

“Ben.”

He turned.

“The coffee. And, you might need this.” She dug into her jeans pocket. “The pass key.”

 

* * *

 

At her door Ben tried one last time. He knocked, waited.

Nothing.

He inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened easily and he stepped inside.

The room was dark, the curtains closed. He almost tripped over Lily’s bag, dumped on the floor. Her waterproof jacket was slung half on, half off a chair as though she just dragged it off and threw it. There was a lump under the bedclothes.

Ben stayed where he was, just inside the door. He knew she heard him, that she must know he was there. She shifted under the bedclothes, and he imagined she curled even more tightly into her little ball of misery. His sympathy was in short supply though, his patience shredded.

“Lily, look at me.”

The huddled shape quivered. But Lily wasn’t about to emerge.

“You met with Harry Murgatroyd.”

He fancied she flinched.

“I want to know why? And more to the point, why the fuck am I the last to know about it?”

Still no response.

Ben had had enough. He marched over to the bed and sat down on the edge. The mattress shifted under his weight, she had to know he was there.

“Lily, either you come out, now, or I’m peeling you out of there. Your choice.”

Her voice was muffled but he was pretty certain she told him to get lost. Ben shrugged. He grabbed the corner of the duvet and gave it a sharp tug.

Lily put up a decent fight, but it was always an unequal struggle. In moments he had the duvet in a pile on the floor and a shivering, weeping Lily curled up in his lap. Her hair was matted, hopelessly tangled. It was obvious it hadn’t been brushed in days and if he didn’t miss his guess she’d been wearing the same clothes for just as long. He tipped her chin up and almost gasped.

Christ, she looked awful, gaunt, ill. Maybe the talk of a migraine wasn’t entirely fictitious.

“God dammit, girl. You need a doctor? I’ll just go and—”

“No, no doctor. Just stay. Please. I… I need you.”

He rocked her in his arms. “You have me. I’m here.”

“I… I need…”

“Tell me. Tell me what you need. What’s happened to cause all this?”

“I can’t. I can’t…”

He continued to rock her as she wept, her fingers curling into his shirt as she latched on and gripped him tight, as though he was the only thing solid and safe in a churning sea. It was as if she was drowning, clinging to him as though her very life depended on it.

Long minutes passed. Neither spoke. Ben waited, holding her, calming her. His earlier temper now evaporated he murmured words of comfort and reassurance into her matted hair. His dom instincts were finely honed; Ben knew genuine grief and regret when he saw them. Whether this anguish was contrition for her untruths remained to be seen. He didn’t know yet what had happened and he meant to find out before leaping to any conclusions.

The gulping sobs subsided. Lily lay silent in his arms. Ben continued to hold her until, at last, she lifted her face to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Her lips trembled, as though she was on the verge of dissolving into tears again. If she did, he would wait it out.

“Okay. What are you sorry for?”

“I… I lied.”

“Yes. About the migraine. And about having lunch with Harry Murgatroyd.”

She shook her head. “Not just that. And, I was ill. I think.”

“Right. Go on.”

“Will you… will you punish me? I haven’t been honest with you.”

“Is that what you deserve? Will a spanking make all this seem better?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” she wailed. “But I have to try. I have to do something, I can’t bear this. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why do you think you might lose me?”

“You’ll be going back to America, now that you’ve sold the shop.”

“Yes, eventually. But that’s not what all this grief is about, is it? The U.S. is only a plane ticket away. And anyway, I haven’t sold it.”

“You haven’t? But, I thought—”

“Never mind the shop. Tell me what you’ve done to deserve to be punished.”

“Please, can’t you just—?”

He kissed her hair. “I’ve never yet taken a paddle to a sub’s ass—and yes, it would be a paddling, a good, hard one, a paddling you’ll never forget—unless I knew exactly what she did to earn it. So, you’re going to tell me what all of this is really about, and then we’ll work out what needs to happen to put things right. Okay?”

“I… suppose so.”

“Good. What about we start with Harry Murgatroyd. Did he hit on you? Scare you?”

“No, nothing like that. Well, he did scare me, but not in the way you think.”

“In what way then?”

She gnawed on her lower lip, her brow furrowing in a way he found achingly familiar. She grappled with whatever demons she had to fight, summoning up something, anything. Ben waited.

“Harry Murgatroyd is my father.”

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

His eyes widened, his expression one of surprise, disbelief. Utter fucking astonishment. Lily looked up at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

“What? What did you just say?”

“Harry Murgatroyd is my father,” she repeated, the words coming more readily now. It was amazing what a little practice could achieve.

“How?”

“How?” she parroted.

He shook his head, his exasperation obvious. “I know how. What I mean is, what’s the connection between you and Harry Murgatroyd? As far as I’m concerned you’d never even been to Mytholm Bridge before last week.”

“I… I have. Been here before, that is. I think. I mean, I’m sort of sure I have.”

“Lily, you’re talking in riddles. When were you here? And why the fuck would Harry Murgatroyd imagine he could be your father?”

“He has pictures, of his family. His mother. She looks like me.”

“So what? A coincidence.”

Lily shook her head. “It’s true.”

“You believe him?”

Slowly, she nodded. “I don’t want it to be true, but I think… I think…”

“How is that even possible?”

“I lied. About being a PhD student.”

“Okay, I guessed that much.”

“You did? But you never said.”

“I thought you’d tell me, eventually. And you just did. So, you’re not a student?”

“No. I do work at the university, though, in Exeter. In the library. But not for much longer. They’re cutting down on staff, and my contract expires in three months. I doubt it’ll be renewed. I… I guess I’ll need to find something else.”

“Okay. So, now we have that out of the way, why did you come here, pretending to be something you’re not and asking questions about a little girl who died twenty years ago? And where does Harry come into all this?”

Lily hesitated. This was it. This was the turning point, the pivotal moment all of this had been leading to. Either she had to tell him, now, or she had to let him go. She made her decision.

“Because I’m her. I’m Grace Havers.”

Ben was silent. Stunned even. He gaped at her, incredulous.

Needing to somehow fill the gulf of silence, Lily babbled on. “I didn’t die that day, in the river. I was never in the water.”

“That’s impossible. I was there, I saw—”

“A pushchair. That was all. You never saw me. You never saw Grace. No one saw me because I wasn’t there.”

“We looked for you. For her. We never doubted… no one ever questioned what happened. The police, the authorities. The family. It was obvious.”

“It didn’t happen that way.”

“So what fucking way did it happen then?”

“I… I don’t know the full story. I was only two, I don’t remember any of it.”

Something clicked in his head, she saw it in his eyes. “You told me you were twenty-five. If she’d lived Grace would only have been twenty-two now.”

“I lied about that, too. I didn’t want anyone to suspect.”

Ben just shook his head. “Okay, we’re really racking ‘em up here, aren’t we? We’ll deal with the reasons for all this secrecy later. And with all the lies. For now, go on. What actually happened that day by the river?”

Where to start? Lily had often wondered how she would explain all of this. Not that she had ever actually intended to. Until now, until Ben. He changed everything. She supposed the beginning was good enough, at least where it began for her.

“I told you about my mother. She died two years ago.”

“Yes.”

“We were never close. She was a cold, distant woman, not one you’d ever describe as affectionate. She was efficient though, took pride in her home and her family. She made sure I had all I needed, a good education, healthy, wholesome food. She did her best, but it was more like she was doing her job. I was her responsibility, and she would meet her obligations.”

“That sounds sort of grim. Loveless.”

Lily shook her head. “No, not really. My dad made up for all that she lacked. We’re close. Always were. It was always me and him. We did everything together; Mum was outside of us, somehow. She made sure my pyjamas were ironed and I ate plenty of vegetables. He gave me cuddles and fun, ice cream, and trips to the beach. I adore him, I always have. I wanted to make him proud.”

“And did you? Make him proud?”

“Yes. I did. He always encouraged me to dream big, to go after what I wanted and not settle for less. My dad made me believe I could achieve anything I set out to do if I worked hard enough. He came to my degree ceremony last year and I swear he looked seven feet tall.”

“And now he’s ill. That must be hard.”

“It is.”

“So, how does Harry fit in? I assume he knew your mother, way back?”

“They never met.”

“Interesting.”

“You need to understand, for all her faults, my dad loved my mum. Maybe not like he loved me, it was different, but he’d have done anything for her. They… they tried for a baby, several times. She miscarried each time. I don’t know how many babies she lost. Six, perhaps, according to my dad. It might have been more, he lost count. She wouldn’t give up, though. She was desperate for a child. It was as though she felt entitled, somehow, and it had to happen. They saw doctors but they couldn’t find the specific cause. No one could help.”

“But obviously something did happen to change all that.”

“My dad wanted to adopt. He talked to her about it. She agreed…”

“There must be some mistake here. Grace Havers was never put up for adoption. She was a much loved, much wanted baby.”

“They didn’t adopt me. They stole me.”

As soon as the words were out, stark and wriggling between them like worms on the bedspread, Lily wished she could gather them up and bury them again.

They stole me.

Three little words, so simple yet they opened up a yawning pit of despair, guilt, shame.

“Stole you? How did they come to fucking steal a baby? Who does that, for fuck’s sake?”

Lily drew in a deep breath, fought to regain some semblance of control, of coherence. “They’d been on holiday, in the Yorkshire Dales. They were driving back to Devon, and came through Mytholm Bridge. It was on the route to the motorway. It was a hot day, in the summer, like you said. They were tired, hungry, with hours of driving ahead of them. They decided this looked like a nice little place to stop and get something to eat so they parked up, bought some sandwiches, and went up to the river to eat them. After, my dad wanted an ice cream. There was a van down at the bottom of the meadow, by the road, so he left my mum to finish her sandwich while he went to buy one. He was halfway back when she came running down to meet him. She was carrying a baby. Me.”

Ben said nothing. Lily waited. Surely he had questions. Seemingly not.

“He… he said she just rushed past him, ran back to the car. He chased after her, but she was already in the car, hugging the baby to her by the time he caught up. She refused to get out, wouldn’t say whose baby it was, where she got her, why. Nothing. She just told him to drive. To get in and drive away and not stop driving and not to look back.”

“And he did? He just did as she said?”

Lily nodded. “He loved her. It was that simple.”

“How can stealing a baby be simple? Letting her family think she died, drowned?”

“They didn’t know any of that. My dad got some of the story from her. It seems she went for a stroll after she finished eating, just a short walk, along the river a bit. She saw the pram, and Charles Havers sleeping next to it. She was angry, told herself that some people didn’t deserve to have a child if they weren’t ready to look after it. Why, anyone could just come along, and…”

“And steal a baby?”

“Yes.”

“So she did? Because she could?”

“I suppose so. And, because she thought she was entitled somehow. She believed she’d be a good mother, it was only fair… or so she told herself.”

“Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

“Oh, yes.” Lily was under no illusion on that score.

“When did you find all this out?”

“It was maybe six months ago. My mum was already dead, and my dad had become ill. He had a really bad attack, he was in hospital. They told me to prepare for the worst. He thought he wasn’t going to survive. So, he told me what they did, he and my mum. He thought I should know. He didn’t want to die with it on his conscience.”

“At last, something that sounds sane and normal. But I’m still struggling to get my head around all of this. Why didn’t your father put a stop to the whole crazy charade? He must have known it was wrong, that they couldn’t get away with it.”

“She begged him. And bullied him, I expect. She could be very forceful when she wanted to be. But mostly, he loved her and he’d do anything to protect her. And they did get away with it. From the moment she snatched me from my pram there was no going back.” Lily hesitated, then, “He loved me too. He did know how wrong it all was but deep down I suppose he didn’t want to give me up either.”

Ben raked his fingers through his hair, his expression one of utter incredulity. “How did they manage to pass you off as their own? Surely there were questions? What about their friends, other family members?”

“They moved to another part of Devon, and just told everyone I was their little girl. They never had much to do with other people, and neither had any close family nearby. They got me in at preschool, I suppose, somehow managed to acquire a birth certificate. I went to school, never had any clue that I didn’t belong there. They made up the details, my date of birth and so on. My mum worked out how old I was and they just went from there. I… I think they got it more or less right. Harry said my birthday’s the eleventh of December. I actually celebrate it on the thirtieth because that’s the day they chose. It was near enough.”

“I’m really struggling to get my head around all of this. I can understand your wanting to find your roots, assuming this tale is true. That makes some sort of sense. What I don’t get is why you came back here if you want to keep it all under wraps. Why make up an elaborate, and not especially convincing, lie about PhD research? And why would you want to do any of that anyway? Why didn’t you just go straight to the police as soon as your father told you what had happened?”

“Because of him. He’s ill, dying perhaps. I don’t want him to spend the rest of his life in jail. And he would. I’m not letting that happen. That’s why I ran away from Harry, why I wouldn’t listen to him. If I admit that his story could be true, he’ll tell everyone. It’ll all come out and my dad’ll get arrested. I need to persuade Harry that he’s mistaken, that he’s not my father. Could you help me? He might listen to you.”

“Why would he? In any case, there’s a simpler solution. DNA testing will soon determine the facts of the matter.”

“I don’t want to prove that it’s true. Harry mentioned DNA, said he wanted us to be tested. He wants to know the truth.”

“I can’t blame him. I’m still trying to work out what went on between him and Sharon Havers, apart from the obvious. It certainly sounds as though Harry’s convinced you’re his long-lost daughter.”

“He did seem pretty certain.”

Ben cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her face up so she had to meet his gaze. “Surely you want to know. Deep down, don’t you?”

“I have a father. The only father I’ll ever need.”

“It’s not that simple, is it? Not now. Harry isn’t going away. And what about Sharon? Luke? Your family. Your real family. They deserve to know that you’re alive. They’ve grieved for you for twenty years and it has to stop. You must see that. Even Charles Havers deserves to be cleared. He didn’t leave the brake off. It wasn’t his fault that the pram ended up in the river and once this is all out in the open people will stop blaming him. Once the genie’s out of the bottle there’s no going back.”

Lily hesitated. She recognised the simple, blatant truth in his words. Indeed, it was that quest for certainty, for some sort of closure, which had drawn her back here. Somehow, even if just for her own satisfaction, she did need to know. It wasn’t supposed to affect anyone else though. No one else was meant to find out.

“After my dad told me, I read the news reports, from twenty years ago. In the library. It’s all there, digitally recorded. I knew where it happened, and when. I started out looking for reports of a stolen baby. It would have been big news, national news. I found nothing. I looked again, and spotted the reports of the drowning and the search for a body that never turned up. The age was right, the sex of the missing child. It had to be me. Had to be.”

“Yes,” Ben agreed. “It had to be.”

“But I wouldn’t know for sure, not without proof. That’s why I wanted to meet Charles. He was the only member of my family left here, or so I thought. If I could just get hold of a sample from him, a bit of hair, anything, I could get a DNA test of my own, privately. Ironic, really. The chances are it would have been negative.”

“Perhaps. If Harry’s right. So that’s why you wouldn’t give up on Charles.”

“Yes. Then it began to look as though we might be able to find Luke so I hoped he’d be able to help.”

“And now Harry pops out of the woodwork. Christ, what a mess.” Ben leaned back against the bed head, his eyes closed. “Jesus Christ, you couldn’t make this up, could you?”

“What are we going to do? About Harry?”

He didn’t question her use of ‘we.’ Lily was relieved.

“We need to talk to him.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. We can. We have to. Apart from anything else, he has some explaining to do, don’t you think? And he might be able to help. From what you’ve said, he’s been honest with you so far. He might turn out to be an ally. You won’t know until you talk to him.”

“You don’t like him though, do you. I could tell.”

“I didn’t trust him, and I was right not to. But maybe what you’ve told me puts everything in a different light. He’s trying to find Luke for you, that says something.”

“Is he? How? Where?” This was news to Lily.

“I spoke to Mel just now, downstairs. According to her, Luke joined the army. Harry has a contact in the military, apparently. If your brother’s still serving it should be possible to trace him. Harry’s on it.”

“Brother? If Harry really is my father, then Luke’s only my half-brother.” She blanched as another thought occurred to her. “And that lad, the one we saw at the garage. He said Harry was his dad…”

“Yeah. And you might have an Aunt Mel.”

“I thought it was going to be just me, on my own. After my dad dies.”

“And now it sounds like you’ll have a whole tribe of Murgatroyds ready to claim you. Not to mention Sharon and Luke.”

“But, my dad…”

“Look, I’m not condoning what he did. But if he loves you, like you say he does, he’ll know the right thing to do. Right for you.” He paused, then, “Can I phone Harry? Arrange to meet with him, tomorrow? Both of us?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Your choice, Lily.”

Slowly, Lily inclined her head. It was time to acknowledge her past, and face up to her future. And if Ben was with her it would be easier. Wouldn’t it?

“Tomorrow. Yes, that’ll be fine.”

“Now we have that sorted, there’s just the matter of what to do about you.”

“About me? Yes, I suppose so.” She’d known there would be a reckoning. There always was, with Ben Tyler. “For not telling you the truth about me straight away?”

“Well, there is that, but I happen to believe people are entitled to their secrets, up to a point. But you did sneak off and have lunch with Harry Murgatroyd behind my back so that alone earns you a spanking.”

“I didn’t sneak, he asked me, and—”

“You could have texted me before you met him, told me what you were planning. Why didn’t you do that?”

“Because… because I…”

“Well?”

“Because you would have been angry.”

“You don’t know that. I might not have been, but you didn’t want to take the risk so you went and did it behind my back.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“And then, after Harry dropped his bombshell, what did you do?”

“I came back here, and…”

“And barricaded yourself in. I was worried, Gina was worried. You were hurting. You were in bits but you wouldn’t let anyone in to help you. I’ve already told you I care about you and I won’t let you harm yourself. Locking yourself in here, not eating, not drinking, refusing to talk to anyone… Honey, that’s self-harm if ever I saw it and I’m not letting that go.”

“I never thought of it like that. I was upset and I just wanted to hide until it all went away.”

“And look how well that worked.”

“I know. I should have…” Lily shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I should have done.”

“You should have talked to me. Told me what happened. Yeah, I’d have been pissed about Harry and that would have earned you a spanking, but I would have listened and I’d have helped you. You can always talk to me.”

“I know. I know that. I… knew that all along.”

“All the more reason, then, for a serious lesson in how I expect you to look after yourself.” He glanced about the room and his gaze fell on the items lying on her dressing table under the window. “Go over there and fetch me your hairbrush. That large, flat one. Then you can get out of those clothes.”

The first time he’d punished her Lily had been scared. She was afraid now, certainly, but it was different. She understood why this was happening, why it had to happen to make things right. She’d acted like a total fool, a coward. She’d wallowed in misery when all she had to do was reach out and help would have been there.

She picked up the hairbrush, turned it over in her hands, and studied the flat, shiny back. It was heavy, solid part of a set her father had given her for her birthday a couple of years ago. It would deliver a serious whack.

It was obvious Ben thought so too as she handed it to him.

“I noticed this the first night I stayed here, thought it might come in useful.” He quirked his lip as he regarded her. “You still dressed?”

She wasted no time in peeling the crumpled jeans and sweatshirt from her body, was glad to be rid of them in fact. Ben hadn’t commented, but after wearing the same clothes for two days solid she was badly in need of a shower. She wrinkled her nose as she dropped the dirty clothes on the floor.

“We’ll take a shower together. After.”

How did he know? How did he always know?

“Yes, Sir. I’d like that.” She looked up at him under her lashes. “How many strokes, Sir?”

“As many as I decide you need. Do you have a problem with that?”

She shook her head and clenched her bottom hard.

He grinned. Clearly her involuntary actions were not lost on him. “I think we’ll need a plug in there, just to remind you who’s boss here.”

“A plug? You haven’t…”

“Never leave home without it, baby.” He produced a butt plug from the inside pocket of his jacket, still in the bubble wrap from the store. “You managed the other one so well, I thought you might like one a size bigger.” He tore the packaging away. “Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any lube with me, so unless you have some… no, I thought not. In that case, you’ll have to suck it. Make sure it’s good and wet because that’s all the help you’ll be getting.” He handed her the bright yellow silicone toy. “Get on with it.”

Lily knew better than to delay. She shoved the toy in her mouth and grimaced at the slightly plastic-y taste. It wasn’t unpleasant, though. And if her mouth hadn’t been quite so dry she might have actually enjoyed the foreplay. As it was, she managed to coat the plug in saliva and offered it back to Ben.

“Thank you. Now you can kneel on the bed beside me and reach back to part your ass cheeks.”

There was no point in protesting, and if she refused to participate in her own punishment he’d only increase the number of swats to her bum. Lily remembered vividly the last punishment spanking she’d earned and had no desire to make matters worse. She scrambled up alongside him and got on all fours.

“Knees wide apart, and shoulders resting on the mattress. Show me that ass, girl.”

She got into position, then closed her eyes as she gripped the tender flesh of her buttocks and parted them to reveal the tight ring of her anus. Ben wasted no time in pressing the snub nose of the butt plug against the knot of muscle.

“Relax as much as you can, and push back.”

Lily did as she was told, and was surprised at how easily the plug slipped into place. Still, Ben insisted on plunging it in and out of her arse a few times before he instructed her to get up and come lay across his lap.

She was intensely, intimately aware of the plug inside her as she moved. It stretched and stimulated, the constant sensation of fullness made her want more. Her clit throbbed as she draped her body over Ben’s thighs. Perhaps after, in the shower…

“Such a greedy, horny sub. You’re thinking about coming, aren’t you?”

Was he telepathic or what? There was no point denying it. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hold that thought, honey.”

He didn’t pull any punches. Lily writhed and whimpered and bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming out loud. There were customers downstairs, maybe even other guests on this floor though she knew of none. Even so, she couldn’t bear for anyone to hear, to know what was happening as spank after spank rained down on her poor bottom. Heat bloomed, fire snaked across her skin, pain seeped right down into her flesh. She whimpered, wept as silently as she could while Ben peppered her buttocks and thighs with heavy, thudding slaps.

Occasionally he slowed, paused for a few moments to allow her to catch her breath. He would draw the plug in and out of her clenching arse a few times, then thrust it back inside her and start spanking again.

It hurt, it hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before. The ruler in his study had been bad, but that was soon over. This time Ben seemed intent upon teaching her a lesson she’d never forget. He was succeeding.

“Aagh!” She couldn’t stifle her sharp cry when he caught a particularly tender spot on her thigh. “Please, please, I…”

Ben paused and leaned down to better hear her. “Did you say something?”

“I just… I’m sorry, and… please, it hurts so much.”

“That’s the point.”

“I know,” she wailed. “I know that.”

“So? Do you have more to say, Lily?”

“No, Sir. Nothing to say,” she whispered.

Lily allowed her body to go limp. He would spank her for as long as he chose and all she could do was wait until he decided he was done. She drew in a deep breath, and he started spanking her again.

“Okay, we’re done here.”

What? It had only been a few more swats. Lily wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. She didn’t move.

“You can get up now, but the plug stays in.”

“Sir?” She turned her head to look up at him.

“Up you get, Lily. It’s time for that shower.”

She didn’t need telling again, but she was still glad of Ben’s assistance as she rose stiffly to her feet. He stood up too and strolled over to the en-suite bathroom. The sound of the shower running reached her ears. By the time she shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom door he had already got rid of his shirt and was unfastening his jeans.

“In you go.” He tilted his chin toward the cubicle. “I’ll join you.”

The warmth of the water running across her smarting, tender skin was a sensual blend of pain and pleasure. Lily winced, then thrust her throbbing buttocks back under the spray.

“Is that nice?” he enquired as he stepped into the cubicle with her.

“Sort of,” she acknowledged. “It hurts like mad, but…”

“Mmm, I get it.”

Lily allowed herself the rare luxury of perusing his entire naked body and her attention was caught by the pale, circular pucker on the front of his left thigh. She touched it with the tip of her finger. “Is this from when you were shot? In the CPD?”

“Yeah. Hurt like a bitch at the time.”

“You told me it happened twice. Where’s the other one?”

“My shoulder.” He half turned to show her a similar scar on his right shoulder blade. Lily caressed that, too. “I’m glad you’re not in the police anymore.”

“Me too. For one thing the leave entitlement isn’t that great; I wouldn’t be here with you if I was still in CPD. But enough of my trophies, what about yours?” He turned her to face the tiles then laid a palm on her bottom and caressed the heated flesh. “You know, your skin glows such a glorious shade of crimson. So fucking lovely, so sexy…” He shifted his hand around to where the tip of the butt plug protruded from her arse. He took hold of it and twisted so the toy moved inside her.

“Oh, God…” Lily moaned and rested her forehead against the smooth tiles. “That feels… oh!” She turned to peer at him as he dragged the plug from her body and tossed it onto the floor of the shower. “I was enjoying that.”

“Try this instead,” he murmured as he swiped his palm between her legs to collect a generous helping of her moisture then inserted the tip of his middle finger into her rear hole. He pressed forward quickly, burying the entire length of his digit in her receptive arse.

Lily moaned as her arousal spiked. .

Ben paused, his finger still inside her. “Lean forward and spread. Wide.”

Lily obeyed, her fingers splayed against the pristine white tiles as she thrust her bottom backwards. Ben withdrew his finger, then slid another one in beside it. The fit was tight, stretching her, but the overwhelming sensation was one of wicked and forbidden pleasure. Lily groaned when he inserted a third finger

The friction as that final digit entered her was intense, made more so by lack of extra lube. Lily let out a faint whimper as Ben, slow but determined, pressed his fingers past the sphincter, then twisted his hand to rub against her inner walls. She was gasping by the time he reached around to caress her sensitive breasts.

“Am I hurting you?”

“A… a little. It’s so tight…”

“I’m not being gentle with you, Lily. This is meant to hurt. When you do yourself harm, your ass gets punished, inside and out.” He withdrew, perhaps back to the first knuckle, then drove his fingers deep again.

Lily yelped. She was impossibly stretched, hurting as he intended yet incredibly aroused too. She longed to lower her hand and rub her clit, it would take no more than a few seconds…

“Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to come when you’re being punished, unless I decide you’ve earned it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He pulled back, further this time, then thrust his fingers deep inside her again. The stroke was long and hard, overcoming any remaining resistance.

“You’re mine, you know that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Mine to care for, mine to punish. Is that clear?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“It means I… oh!” She yelped as he finger-fucked her arse again, hard, demanding, utterly dominant. “It means I should tell you if something happens, if I’m upset.”

“Even if I might be angry?”

“Yes, Sir. Especially then.”

He leaned over her to place his mouth against the shell of her ear. “Good answer, little Lily. You may have that orgasm now.”

“Thank you.” She lowered her hand and slid her fingers into her own moist, slick folds. Her clit throbbed, plump and greedy, as she rolled it between her fingers then squeezed lightly. Lily slumped forward against the tiles as pleasure peaked. Her empty pussy spasmed, inner muscles fluttering as her body succumbed to the sensual overload. She was still trembling from the aftershocks when Ben slowly dragged his fingers out. She knew the intrusive intimacy of the wicked act affected him too. He leaned over her, his breath ragged in her ear, and muttered something obscenely appreciative.

 

* * *

 

“He says he’ll come down to the pub, around one o’clock.”

Harry had taken Ben’s call and seemed keen to meet. She’d known he would be. He was, after all, the one who started all this and it was clear he wanted to talk. She nodded her agreement.

“That’s fine. We’ll see you then.” Ben ended the call and pocketed his phone. “He’s coming over in an hour.”

Nerves twisted in Lily’s gut. She dreaded the coming meeting, though less so now that Ben would be with her. “What if he wants to go straight to the police?”

“Then there’ll be nothing we can do to stop him. But I think if that was his plan he’d have done it already.”

There was some truth in that, she acknowledged to herself. Not that it did much to allay her fears. Harry Murgatroyd’s revelations could only mean trouble, more complications.

“Do you want to wait for him here or shall we go out?”

“Out, please. I could do with some fresh air. Clear my head.”

They walked in silence, and though they never discussed their destination Lily knew they would end up back at the river. Once there they stood on the bank, and Lily tried to imagine the scene all those years ago.

“Do you suppose she stopped to think, even for a moment?” Ben regarded her with interest.

“Probably not. As far as I can remember she never did anything remotely so impetuous ever again. My mother wasn’t a natural risk-taker, more a rule-follower, really. Law abiding. That day was just… an aberration.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“A moment of madness, though I doubt she ever saw it that way. She always believed she was right.”

He held out his hand to her. “How about we go back? I somehow don’t think Harry’s going to be late.”

Harry Murgatroyd was already in the bar at the Black Horse when they walked in. Ten minutes early. He glanced up as they came through the door, his smile wary, guarded.

“Ben? Lily? Can I get you both a drink?”

Ben held out his hand, the greeting perfunctory but enough to satisfy good manners. “Just coffee for us.”

Gina was already starting to pour. They waited until three steaming cups were lined up on the bar, then Harry gestured to a table in the corner. “Looks nice and quiet over there. Shall we?”

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Ben sized up his man. Harry was nervous, no doubt about that, but still he exuded an air of quiet determination. Ben could respect that.

“Thank you for ringing,” Harry began.

“Lily told me what you said.” Ben opted to get straight to the point. “I think you’d better explain.” Seated beside him on the upholstered bench seat, Lily reached for his hand.

If Harry noticed the gesture he chose to ignore it. Instead he merely tilted his head, then nodded. “Fair enough.” He leaned back in the seat, looked from Ben to Lily, then back to Ben. “It was when I was working for my dad, in the garage…”

“Yes, I remember. You’d be in your early twenties back then, when I was here before.”

“That’s right, but the time you’re interested in was earlier than that. Three years earlier. I was nineteen, and as randy as they come.”

That made sense. Ben waited.

“So, like I said, I was working at the garage. I was still an apprentice then, with my dad.” Harry glanced up from his coffee. “One day we had a call from Sharon Havers. She’d had a puncture, on her driveway, wanted to know if my dad could come and fix it for her.” He paused. “It was a simple enough job, and he was busy so he sent me round.”

“Right.” Ben could easily imagine the scene.

“I changed the wheel and shoved her damaged tyre in the back of my truck to bring it back and fix it. She asked me if I wanted a drink before I left, some homemade lemonade or something. She was very… friendly. I knew lemonade wasn’t what she was offering, not really.”

“She was twice your age…” Not that that made any real difference, Ben thought, on reflection.

Harry grinned. “Not quite. She was thirty-one. And bored. Charles was away a lot, and when he was there they didn’t get on, or so she said. One thing led to another…”

“Right. So, how long were you two…?”

“At it?” Harry shrugged. “Maybe six months. I used to go round there once or twice a week. She was always glad enough to see me. We had fun.”

“Sounds like it. And Charles never knew?”

“Christ, no! Sharon made sure of that. It was never serious between me and her, she’d no intention of leaving her husband. It never occurred to me that she might. Then one day I turned up and she wouldn’t let me in. She said it was over, it had been nice and all that, but we were done. I suppose I was disappointed, but not heartbroken, or especially surprised. It had always been a casual thing and I was ready to move on. I didn’t see her for a while after that, then one day, maybe four or five months later I saw her coming out of Tesco. She was pregnant.”

Ben leaned forward, his gaze intent now. “Yours?”

Harry shrugged. “She denied it. I went round there a day or so after, asked her if I was the father. Christ, I was shitting myself…”

“But she said no?”

“That’s right. She said it had nothing to do with me and to forget all about it. So I did. For a while. She had her baby, I vaguely remember hearing about it from Mel but I took no notice. Water under the bridge and all that. Then, one day, Sharon came into the garage. She had the baby in the car, and I got a good look at her. Baby Grace looked the image of our Mel. I couldn’t understand why no one else seemed to see it, but they didn’t. I went back round to her house later, convinced now that I was the father, whatever she might have said before. I wanted to know what Sharon was playing at, and more to the point what she intended to do. She told me to fuck off, basically. Grace was Charles’ baby, she said. Nothing to do with me.”

“But you didn’t believe that?”

Harry shook his head. “No, not for a moment. But what could I do? Was there anything I needed to do? It wasn’t as though she wanted my help. I kept my head down, said nothing. I’d see Sharon around the town from time to time, and Grace would be with her. I suppose I was interested, in a laddish sort of a way. I knew when it was her birthday, that date sort of stuck in my head.”

“The eleventh of December,” put in Lily.

“Yes. I never forgot. Not then, and not in the years since.” He paused, stared into the remains of his coffee. “I don’t know what would have happened, eventually, but I doubt I’d have kept quiet for ever, Maybe when my sons were born, and I properly got my head around what it was to be a father…” He offered a rueful smile. “But everything was cut short. Grace drowned, or so everyone thought. Christ, I was gutted. I couldn’t even grieve properly because no one knew but me, and Sharon, maybe. But I did grieve all the same. I joined in the search with everyone else, and I fucking cried that night when we had to give up and she hadn’t been found. I’d loved her, I suppose, in my stupid, careless way but I’d thought there was no hurry, I had plenty of time. She was my child, I was sure of that, whatever Sharon might say. And suddenly she was dead. I went back to see Sharon, I wanted to talk to her, share it, somehow. But she wouldn’t even talk to me. It all felt so raw, so brutal, and there was no one I could tell. So I just… went away. I got a job in Manchester, moved out of Mytholm Bridge for a few years. I came back when my dad’s health started to fail and he needed me to help him in the garage. Eventually Mel and I took over the business when he retired. Obviously, Sharon was long gone by then, there was only Charles still here. I could pretend it hadn’t happened. Or try to. I never really got over it, though I’ve had other children since. Two boys…”

Ben nodded. “We met one of them, the other day.”

“Yes. That was James. He’s sixteen and works for me on Saturdays. There’s our Iain too. He’s fourteen.”

Harry didn’t add the obvious comment, though Lily’s fingers tightened around his. Her brothers.

Harry met Lily’s gaze before continuing. “Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, you walked back into my life. There you were, on the forecourt of my garage, asking about your brother. I recognised you at once, the family resemblance is uncanny, but even so it didn’t register at first. It was just too weird. Impossible. After you left I went back into my office. My head was a mess. I thought about it, tried to work out how… I couldn’t believe it. Still can’t. How did you…? I mean, someone must have rescued you. Or you got washed up on the river bank somehow. How come no one ever found you?”

“It’s… I…” Lily squirmed in her seat.

“Lily said you mentioned a DNA test?” Ben decided it was time to change the subject.

“What? Oh, yes. I think that would be a good idea, just to avoid any doubt. After… everything, I’d like the proof.”

“You do seem pretty certain,” observed Ben.

“I am. Even so.”

“Lily?” She sat, silent, at his side. “Do you think you could agree to that?”

She didn’t answer at first, and Ben began to wonder if, even now, she might just turn tail and run. Eventually, she managed a small nod. “I… I suppose so. If that’s the only way, but I’m not sure how we—”

“I have a test kit,” Harry interrupted. “I sent off for it last week, as soon as I realised who you were. Or who I thought you were. Home Office approved, the official business. We’d get the results back in three to five days.”

Lily stared at him, her expression blank. “What do I have to do?”

“Just provide a simple mouth swab. I’ll do the rest.”

“Okay. Shall I come round to pick it up?”

Harry reached into his jacket pocket. “No need. Here.” He handed her a small, clear sample container and what looked to Ben like a cotton swab wrapped in cellophane. “I was sort of hoping… Anyway, you just take the sample, drop the whole thing in the container, and screw the lid on. I do the same, and we send both samples off for analysis.”

Lily gaped at the test kit as though it were alive. “What? You want me to do it now?”

“Why not?” Harry produced another swab and container. “I will if you will.” He unwrapped his swab and stuck it in his mouth. In moments the sample was safely stored in the plastic container. “Your turn.”

To her credit, Lily didn’t hang about. She repeated Harry’s actions, and handed the sealed sample back to him. “Five days, did you say?”

“Maybe less.”

“You’ll let me know, as soon as you hear?”

“Oh, yes.”

“One way or the other?”

Harry leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “I know I said I wanted proof, but there really isn’t any doubt, is there? You saw the pictures, and now you know how it was back then. We’re just going through the motions now.”

“Let’s just wait for the test result,” advised Ben, “then we’ll take it from there.”

“If the test’s positive, if I am your daughter, what do you intend to do?” Lily straightened in the chair, her chin tilted at a defiant angle Ben had come to recognise.

Harry frowned, puzzled. “Do? What are you talking about?”

“I need to know what you mean to do about it. About what happened.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Why would I want to do anything? You’re alive, that’s good news, surely. Obviously, we need to contact Sharon, and Luke. And tell Charles Havers that he’s off the hook.”

Ben draped an arm across Lily’s shoulders. “Lily, Harry’s been very honest with us. Now it’s your turn. We need to explain what really happened that day. He needs to know.”

“Please… Can’t we—?”

“Lily. The truth. Then we can work out what to do. Together.” Ben deliberately firmed his voice. The lies and evasion had to stop. “Trust me. Trust us.”

“I can’t…”

“You can and you will.”

She was crying now, soft, silent weeping as tears streamed across her cheeks.

Harry’s expression was one of utter astonishment. “Look, I know it’s been a shock, but really, this isn’t so bad. I’m sure we—”

“Okay. If you’re sure that’s the only way.” Lily twisted her fingers together in her lap and turned to face Ben. “I… I don’t know where to start.”

“Me neither,” agreed Ben, though he had no illusions about the task. It would pretty much fall to him to tell the story. Lily was clearly beyond thinking straight

“I wish someone fucking would.” Harry glared from one to the other of them. “What the hell is going on here? What do you two know that I don’t?”

 

* * *

 

Harry showed remarkable restraint, all things considered. Ben had to hand it to the man. He was silent, listened without interruption as Ben described the events of twenty years ago, or as much as he and Lily knew of them. His eyes narrowed dangerously when Ben explained about the Jamisons snatching the baby and driving off, leaving the community of Mytholm Bridge engulfed in chaos and the Havers family wading about in the river, searching for a toddler believed drowned. He made no comment when Ben explained what happened in the subsequent years, how the Jamisons brought Lily up as their own, and no one ever challenged them. Even as he told the story, Ben found it hard to accept that such a thing was even possible in this day and age.

At last he was finished. He turned to Lily. “Did I forget anything?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered miserably. “I don’t think so.”

They both regarded Harry’s stony features. His eyes glittered, a hard emerald green, anger and bitterness warring in his gaze.

“The bastards,” he breathed, “the fucking bastards.”

“No…” started Lily. “It wasn’t like that…”

Ben laid a hand on her arm. “It sort of was, sweetheart. However you dress it up, they did something very wrong.”

“I know. I know that, but they’re not bad people. Not really.”

“They stole a baby. My baby. They let your family believe you were dead. No one ever suspected, ever doubted… And all this time, all these years…” Harry groaned and lowered his head into his hands. “Jesus Christ, poor Sharon. She was devastated. She never got over it. Her marriage collapsed…” He looked up at Lily. “How could they do that? How?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t planned, I’m sure of it.”

Harry remained incredulous. Ben couldn’t blame him.

“How? How does anyone…? And why are you defending them? Why aren’t you outraged? Why aren’t you demanding justice? We need to report this.”

“No, there’s no point. It’s been too long…”

“Bollocks!” Harry dragged his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the police right now.”

“No!” Lily leapt to her feet. “If you do that, I’m out of here. I’ll be gone and you’ll not see me again.”

“What? Why?” Harry glared at her, at Ben. “What the fuck…?”

Lily was shaking, her voice ragged. Others in the bar were turning in their direction but Lily was oblivious to the interest they were exciting. “My mother did it. She was the one to blame, not my dad. And she’s dead now, so there’s no point dragging it all up.”

“That’s rubbish. He knew. He went along with it. That’s what you said, isn’t it?” Harry looked to Ben for confirmation. “He drove the car…?”

“It’s more complicated than that. Let Lily explain.” Ben reached for her hand and tugged her back into the seat. “Calm down. Harry’s not about to call the cops. Are you?”

Harry’s expression suggested otherwise, but Ben ploughed on. “Tell him. Make him understand why this is important to you.”

She was sobbing now, gulping, racking sobs that brought Gina across.

“Do you guys want to take this upstairs? Or into the back? My customers aren’t used to this sort of drama with their quiet pint on a Wednesday lunchtime.”

“Thanks.” Ben hustled Lily to her feet and toward the stairs. He glanced back at Harry. “You coming?”

The other man got to his feet and followed.

 

* * *

 

“What do you think he’ll do?” Lily hunched on the edge of her bed and twisted her neck to regard Ben who lounged against her pillows. “Will he go to the police?”

“He said not.” Ben raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think he’ll go behind your back.”

“He was so angry…”

“Can’t blame him. I know the feeling.”

Lily nodded, no longer seeking to defend the actions of those who had made themselves her parents. Perhaps, through the lens of those most closely affected by the tragedy, she was beginning to see it for what it was—a crime, a terrible, destructive crime that had wrecked lives and torn a family apart. Harry was right. Ben too. The knowledge of what really took place couldn’t be just left, swept back under the carpet to protect the not-so-innocent.

She plucked at the fibres of her faded jeans. “How long do you suppose it’ll be, before we get the DNA results?”

“Not long. Harry said three to five days.”

“It’s just a formality anyway.”

“Yeah, probably,” he agreed.

“And Luke? Harry said he knew someone who might be able to track him down.”

“He’ll phone. As soon as he has any news.”

“I know. It’s the waiting, now… I just want…” She swiped her fingers across her eyes, the start of a headache taking root behind her right temple. “I don’t know what I want anymore. My head’s a mess.”

“There’s a lot to process. It’ll settle, things will look clearer soon.”

“Will they?” She found that hard to imagine. Suddenly she clutched at his knee. “Hey, did you say you hadn’t sold the shop? I thought—”

“Ah, yes. My meeting in Leeds. I forgot all about that.”

“Didn’t they offer enough money?”

“They offered plenty. It was a generous bid, more or less the full asking price.”

She turned to face him, glad of the distraction. “So why did you turn it down? I assume you did turn it down?”

“Yup. They wanted to turn the café into a vaping supplies shop, and the flat into a tanning studio.”

“Oh. Ugh!” The idea sounded revolting to Lily, quite vile.

Ben seemed to agree. “Exactly. I owe it to Babs and my grandfather to do better for their legacy than that. A tanning studio, for fuck’s sake? And Babs never smoked in her life, hated the habit.”

“Well, I’m glad, but… what if no one wants to run it as a café? Or a bookshop? It’s up to the new owner, really.”

“There won’t be a new owner. I’ve taken the property off the market.”

“What? You have?”

“That’s right. I decided to try and find a tenant instead, someone prepared to run my family’s business for me the way I think it should be run. Ideally, they could live in the flat upstairs, though I suppose that’s optional.”

“A tenant? Paying rent?”

“That’s the idea.”

“How much rent?”

“Negotiable, to the right tenant. I’ll come to some agreement, once I find someone I like. It needs to be someone I can trust to look after the place. I instructed my agent to offer it as a going concern.”

“I see.” She didn’t, not really.

“I’m not against some changes, I know the new tenant’s gonna have ideas of their own. So they should, but any changes need to be sympathetic to what it was originally. It has to fit, here in Mytholm Bridge, and it has to be right for my family. Does that make sense?”

That much she did understand. Lily nodded. “I’m sure there must be someone out there…”

“Oh, there is. Make no mistake, there is.”

“It’ll be a wonderful opportunity, for the right person, but you may be a while finding them. What about going back to America?”

“I’m in no rush. Maybe you could help me look. You have ideas for the store and the café, a feel for it, for what’s needed.”

“Of course, if I can help I will. Not that I know much about running a business. Right now, I don’t think I know much of anything at all. My head’s spinning, I can’t think straight…”

“Ah, now I do know an excellent cure for that, a sure-fire way to clear your head.”

“What?” She peered at him, curious. “What do you suggest?”

Ben sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap. “Lower your jeans and make yourself comfortable.”

Her stomach lurched. “A spanking? You mean to spank me?”

“I could. You’d find it therapeutic, I’m pretty sure.”

“Therapeutic? How?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“I…” She paused, imagining the sharp burn, the sting of his palm on her buttocks, the cleansing, purifying bite of pleasure laced with pain that would drive all the babble and confusion to the outer recesses. The roiling turmoil would be shoved aside, making way for… calm. It could work. A spanking would help to ground her, to create perspective. And even if it didn’t… Christ, she wanted it anyway. She wanted it so much she could almost taste the longing.

Without further comment Lily unfastened the snap on her jeans and lowered the zip. She shoved the denim down to her knees, taking her underwear with it. Ben smiled and beckoned her forward in that way he had, with the tips of his fingers, both hands. She flung herself forward to drape her body across his knees.

Ben shifted around so she could rest her upper torso on the bed beside him. “Fold your arms under your chin. Settle in, and tell me when you’re ready to start.”

Lily squirmed about a bit, finding the best position, all the while conscious of her bare bottom, exposed, poised and waiting for his attention.

“I think I’m ready,” she murmured, clenching her buttocks in heady expectation.

Ben started as he had before. He rested his hand on her bottom and palmed large, lazy circles on her sensitive flesh. The caress was intimate, soothing. Calm started to descend, already cutting through the madness, the nonsense, the tangled bewilderment. Lily inhaled, deep and slow, then let out her breath. She repeated, allowing the peace to expand, to settle. She gave herself over to it. To him.

The first few slaps were light, teasing. Lily grunted, frustrated, expecting, wanting more.

Ben was unhurried, maintaining the gentle pressure until it started to build, to mount. Heat spread across her tender skin, the warmth seeping deeper as he peppered her flesh with slaps. Ben covered all of her arse, even the backs of her thighs, until she felt to be glowing everywhere. It was hot now, really starting to sizzle. She shifted, letting out the occasional yelp.

“It needs to hurt. You know that.”

“Yes,” she wailed as the pressure grew and her bottom smarted. “Don’t stop.”

“Not about to.”

Ben increased the weight of the slaps, the strokes coming more slowly now but every single one of them reverberated. Intense, the fire snaked across her heated skin. She writhed and squirmed, but Ben wrapped his arm around her waist and hooked his leg over both of hers to hold her still.

Lily was glad of it. She felt safe under his control. Ben wouldn’t let her fall, wouldn’t let anything bad happen. She had only to trust him and everything would work out all right.

And maybe she needed to trust herself, too, trust her own instincts, her own sense of right and wrong. Trust in who and what she was, and where she belonged.

She had been right to come home.

The pain receded, softened, as though experienced through a layer of cotton wool. The sound of palm slapping against taut flesh became muted too, muffled and more distant. Lily closed her eyes and allowed her body to drift. She was floating, flying, spinning, weightless. The sensation was all pleasure now, pure and clean and shiny. Her sore body felt renewed and refreshed, her mind clear and focused. She saw light, she could almost touch it, that glittering pinpoint of clarity, of certainty, of self.

“Sweetheart, you can open your eyes now.”

What? No…

“Lily, time to wake up. Look at me.”

Why? Not yet… Soon…

“Now. Open your eyes.” The tone hardened, the shift almost imperceptible yet beyond question.

Reluctantly, Lily complied. She had no choice, he must be obeyed. That was the rule, that was what they had agreed. She prised her eyelids apart and turned her head to look up at him.

Ben was smiling at her. She was still draped over his lap, her body loose and boneless, utterly relaxed. There was soreness, but not pain, a sort of awareness that swelled and cleansed and left her purified. But it was more than that. She was competent, capable, ready to face what might come.

“Can you get up?”

She nodded. In that moment she believed she could do anything.

Ben helped her to stand upright between his knees. Lily smiled at him, his face shimmering as she viewed him through her residual tears. She hadn’t even known she was crying.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Better now?”

“Perfect.” Well, pretty much.

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

“Harry has the results.” Lily peered at her phone, the short text message leaping out at her. “He’s asking if we want to go over to his house.”

“Has he opened them?”

She tapped in the question. The reply was immediate.

No. Waiting for you. We’ll do it together.

“Tell him we’ll be there in ten minutes.” Ben rolled from the narrow sofa in his living room and reached for his car keys. “Get him to text the address.”

A quarter of an hour later they sat at the kitchen table in Harry’s converted barn just outside the town, a sealed white envelope on the oak table before them. Harry lifted one brow and nudged the envelope toward Lily. “Do you want to do the honours?”

She stared at it, stalling for time. “That was quick. I thought it took a few days…”

“I drove over to Manchester when I left you at the pub and delivered the samples myself, then paid extra for the express service. So, do you want to open it?”

She made up her mind and shook her head. “No. You do it.”

“Okay.” Harry picked up the envelope and with no further ado slipped his finger under the flap and tore it open. He extracted two sheets of paper, scanned them briefly, then handed them to Lily.

“Not excluded?” She read the words aloud then looked from Harry to Ben. “What does that mean? Is it positive? It doesn’t sound—”

“It’s positive.” Ben took the sheet from her and glanced at the words printed on it. “Look, ninety-nine point nine nine probability.”

“Are you sure?”

Harry nodded. “That’s right. It’s positive. Conclusive. Time to crack open the champagne.”

Lily wasn’t sure a celebration was called for exactly, though the weight of uncertainty lifting was oddly liberating. She knew. For sure. At last.

“What do we do now?” she wondered.

“I meant it, about the champagne.” Harry turned to look at the door. “Katherine…” he called.

A woman aged about forty entered the kitchen, a large bottle of sparkling wine cradled in her arms. She set it down on the table and leaned down to hug Lily. “I’m so pleased to meet you. Harry wouldn’t let me, not until… well, you know.”

“This is Katherine, my wife.” The introduction was superfluous but polite.

“He… told you?” Lily was surprised, and despite the champagne, uncertain of her reception in this woman’s home.

“Of course, straight away. I mean, I knew about you already, about the little girl who died. Harry told me all about that years ago, before we were married.”

“He did?”

“Of course. There are no secrets between us.” Harry reached for Katherine’s hand, his smile warm. He kissed her palm, the gesture unconscious, practised. Lily was struck by the easy affection, not least as she had never witnessed such displays of tenderness between her parents in Devon.

“How… how long have you been married?” she asked.

Katherine was the one to answer. “It’ll be eighteen years in June.”

“We met while I was in Manchester. Remember, I told you I went there for a while?”

“Ah, yes,” agreed Ben. “I confess, you didn’t strike me as the settling down type, not back then.”

“No, perhaps not. But I met my soul mate, and that was it. When you find the one, you make it stick.”

“I’m your wife, not a postage stamp.” Despite the rebuke Katherine was laughing as she produced four tall-stemmed glasses from a cupboard. “Now, who’s joining me in a drop of the sparkly stuff, to welcome Lily to our family?”

Lily watched as Katherine poured the bubbling, frothing wine, the golden bubbles floating to the surface of each flute. She wrapped her fingers around the stem of the one closest to her but didn’t raise it. “I don’t want to cause any problems. You know, with your sons…”

“You leave them to me,” replied Katherine. “They’ll come around.”

“It’s a lot to take in. For them, I mean.”

“We’ll explain. They’ll understand.”

“But, what if—”

Katherine was adamant. “In this family, we talk. We carry on talking until things are sorted. That’s how we do things, and you’ll get used to it. Believe me, our lads will be fine. We’ll make sure of it, me and Harry, like we always have. We look out for our kids.”

Her certainty was encouraging. Lily could find no reason to disbelieve her.

Harry raised his glass to his lips and regarded her over the rim. “That includes you, you know. I realise you’re not a kid anymore, and you hardly know me. Us. But we do care. We want to get to know you.”

Lily was at a loss. How to respond? “I… I won’t be here for that long. I need to leave here soon. Go back to Devon. I’m not sure if…”

“You’ll be back, I hope. And even if you’re not, Devon isn’t so far away.”

“But—”

“I only just found you. I’m not letting you go again.”

Katherine gave him a sharp nudge in the shoulder. “Don’t crowd the poor lass.” She turned to face Lily. “What Harry means is this. Whether you’re in Mytholm Bridge or not, you’re part of our family now, like it or not. We’ll be here, if you need us, if you want us.”

“Th-thank you.” Lily was overwhelmed, stunned at the warmth she found here, among virtual strangers. Even Richard Jamison for all his effusive adoration would do well to match this. Despite Sharon Havers’ reluctance to acknowledge the truth it was obvious by now that Harry would not have kept silent forever. He would have forced the issue eventually and she would have known who her father was. She began to truly comprehend what she had lost that day by the river.

“To new beginnings.” Harry lifted his glass and beckoned to the others to do the same. They joined him in the toast, clinking the wineglasses together over the table.

“To new beginnings,” they all chorused.

The bubbles went down smoothly. Lily savoured the effervescent fizzing on her tongue then set her glass down.

“More?” Harry offered her a top up.

“I’m fine. I suppose we really should be getting back…” She looked to Ben for confirmation, though he appeared perfectly content where he was.

“Not yet.” Harry poured more champagne for Katherine and for Ben. “There’s more news to share.”

“Oh?” Lily waited.

“My contact in the Army Personnel Centre came up with the goods.” Harry stood and walked over to the large stone fireplace. He picked up a sheet of paper that had been tucked behind the clock on the mantelpiece. He glanced at it before passing it to Lily. “The current whereabouts of one Major Luke Havers.”

She snatched the sheet from him, barely able to believe it. “You found him? You found Luke?”

Harry inclined his head. “We did.”

“He’s still in the army?”

“Yes. The Parachute Regiment, just as Mel thought.”

“Where…?”

“Colchester. The Parachute Regiment has its headquarters at the garrison there. Major Havers is one of their elite trainers these days.”

“He’s here? In the UK? Not stationed abroad somewhere?”

“Certainly is. There’s the address. And we even have a mobile number for him.”

“I could phone him up, and ask him for his mother’s address.” Excitement warred with gut-churning apprehension. Lily wasn’t certain if she wanted to dance on Harry’s fine oak table, or throw up underneath it.

Harry nodded. “You could do that, but it may not be the best approach.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it.” Ben took the slip of paper, studied the details Harry had scrawled on it. “Luke has no idea you’re even alive, let alone back in Mytholm Bridge. If you just phone him out of the blue he’ll probably think it’s some sort of a hoax. He’s not going to just tell you his mother’s contact details, that’s for sure.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” She looked from Ben to Harry. “What can I do then? Maybe I should write to him…?” She should have thought this through, had some sort of a plan ready.

“How about if I phone him?” offered Ben.

“You?”

“Yeah. We were friends once, it’s not so weird that I might be back in the UK and wanting to look him up. At least he won’t think I’m some sort of ghost, or worse, a jerk out to trick him.”

“You mean, like a sort of reunion?”

“Yeah, I guess. If that’s what gets him to talk to me. I could explain, hopefully give him enough to think about that he’ll take us seriously and maybe agree to meet you. I think from there, with the DNA and Harry to back us up, we’ll be home free.” Ben paused. “What do you think?”

Lily nodded, grateful that someone at least seemed to have a sensible plan of action. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“When do you think would be a good time to…?”

“What’s wrong with now?”

“Shouldn’t we plan it? Work out what to say? I mean—”

“No point putting it off.” Ben produced his mobile phone. “What’s the number?”

Out of excuses, Lily read the number out loud from the sheet Harry had given her. Harry and Katherine sat in silence as Ben held the phone to his ear.

“It’s ringing,” he murmured, then put the phone on speaker and laid it face up on the table top.

The ringtone sounded twice, then there was a soft click.

“Hello?” The voice was deep, rich. Lily fancied it sounded familiar though she knew that had to be her imagination.

Ben replied. “Luke? Is that Luke Havers?”

“Yes. Who is this, please?”

“Ben Tyler. I don’t know if you remember me. We were at school together for a few months. It was twenty years ago…”

Ben’s American accent probably helped with the identification. Luke hesitated for no more than a couple of moments, then, “Hey, is it really you? Bloody hell, mate…”

“Yeah, it’s me. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know. Not bad. What about you?”

“I’m good.”

“Where are you? In the U.S.?”

“No. I’m here, actually, in England. My aunt died. Remember her? She had the cake shop.”

“Holy fuck, of course I remember her. Or at least I remember her Victoria sponge cake, the one she used to make with chocolate and raspberry ice cream on top.”

Ben chuckled. “Yeah, that one.”

“She died? I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, it was a couple of months ago now. I’m back in Mytholm Bridge, trying to decide what to do with her property.”

“I see. I never get up that way these days, but if you’re going to be around for a while maybe we could get together. It’d be great to see you again, have a proper catch up. How long are you planning to be in the country for?”

“It’s turning into a bit of an open-ended trip. It’ll be good to see you.”

“How did you find me, anyway? My dad still lives up there, I think, but I’m not in touch with anyone in Mytholm Bridge now.”

“Mel. Melanie Murgatroyd. She’s still here and she thought you joined the army.”

“Right. We were in touch for a while. I must have mentioned that I was joining up.”

“We found someone in the Army Personnel Centre who was able to help.”

“Okay.” Luke paused for a moment, then, “We? You mean you and Mel?”

“Not exactly.” Ben hesitated, seemed to be considering his next words. Lily waited, hardly daring to breathe. “I’ve been looking up some old acquaintances while I was here. Mel, obviously. And do you remember her brother, Harry?”

“Yes, vaguely. He was older than us.”

“Mel and Harry run the garage together these days. I’m with Harry now, in fact.”

“I didn’t realise you two were friends. Say hello from me.”

“Hello yourself,” put in Harry.

“Hey? And how’s your Mel?”

“She has twin boys,” Harry said, as though that were sufficient explanation for everything going on in his sister’s life. “They have chickenpox.”

Luke chuckled. “Never one to do things by halves. Tell her I was asking after her.”

“Sure will,” replied Harry.

“Actually, there’s more…” Ben trailed off and the rest fell silent around the kitchen table.

“Oh? What?” Luke’s voice sounded from the phone. “What else has been happening up there?”

“We have news. About Grace…”

“Grace?” Luke’s voice fell. “Jesus, what…? Have they found her?”

“Luke—”

“After all these years? Christ! Where? Are they sure? How come the police didn’t contact me? Or my mum? They should have, as soon as they—”

“The police aren’t involved.” Ben cut him off. “Not yet. But we did need to talk to you.”

“I don’t understand? If a body’s been found, surely the police…?”

“A body hasn’t been found.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? If this is some sort of joke it’s not fucking funny.”

“We found her. Grace. Or rather, she found us. She came back.”

There was silence from the phone.

Ben continued. “She’s not dead, buddy. She was never in the river, she didn’t drown that day. She’s here. She’s alive and she’s with us now. Here, with me and Harry.”

“That’s impossible. We all saw… We all know what happened.”

“We thought we knew, but we were wrong. Are you sitting down? It’s a long story but you need to hear it.”

“No. No, I fucking don’t. This is a trick, some sort of scam. Do you think I’m a brainless squaddie? Some gullible dickhead, to be taken in by the first clever con-merchant looking for a reward?”

“We’re not looking for anything, except you. Grace wants to meet you, she wants to see her mother again, her family.”

“Grace is dead. Gone.”

“Grace is here. Right here.” Ben’s tone was low, calm. Unflappable.

“Luke…?” Unable to contain herself, Lily breathed the one word, her brother’s name.

The phone clicked as he ended the call.

“He hung up.” Lily looked at her companions, tears shimmering. “He hung up on us.”

“Wait,” advised Harry.

“But, what if—?”

“He needs time to think,” put in Katherine. “That was one hell of a shock for him.”

“Maybe I could have put it to him more gently…” observed Ben.

Katherine was having none of that. “I’m not sure there was ever going to be a gentle way to tell him that the sister he thought drowned twenty years ago was somehow resurrected, back from the dead and wanting to say hello. You did well enough, considering.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I will have more of that champagne. Just a little. I’m driving.”

The phone rang as Katherine poured. Ben hit the green key.

“She’s there, you say? Grace?” Luke dispensed with any preamble or pleasantries. He sounded haggard.

Ben glanced across at Lily and nodded to her.

“Yes. I’m here. It’s me.”

“Grace?”

“Lily. I go by the name of Lily Jamison now.”

“Why?”

“It… it’s a long story. I can explain though.”

“I think you’d better. I’m listening.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you think he believed us?” Yawning, Lily leaned back in the car seat as they headed away from Harry and Katherine’s barn.

“I think he’s getting there. We said enough to get him to agree to come up here, meet you for himself.”

“I can’t believe he’ll actually be here tomorrow. That he could get leave from the army so quickly.”

“Like he said, he’s a senior military officer with a family crisis to deal with. The army isn’t unsympathetic. He’ll be here.”

“And there’ll be more DNA testing.”

“Can’t blame Luke for that. I’d do the same. Trust Harry to have a spare kit on hand. That guy definitely plans ahead.”

“I think you’re starting to like him.”

“He’s not the person I remembered. He changed. Maybe that was partly because of you, of what happened.”

“No. I reckon it was Katherine. He adores her, it’s obvious.”

“True, but I still think he was mellowed by losing his child. Maybe it gave him the sense of perspective he was lacking, showed him what’s actually important so when he met the love of his life he was ready to settle down and commit. He’s definitely a family man now, right down to his toenails.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I thought he was hitting on you at first.”

“You didn’t!”

“Don’t tell me the idea never occurred to you. Why else would you go off and have lunch with him in secret?”

“It wasn’t like that. I was… I don’t know, I sort of felt drawn to him. He’s a good-looking man, but that was never it. And it wasn’t a secret. I just never had a chance to tell you.”

Ben’s answering snort suggested he remained less than convinced but he seemed minded to let the matter drop.

“You were jealous,” she accused him. “Admit it.”

“I was fucking pissed off. We’d agreed to be exclusive.”

“We had. We are.”

“So, no more private lunch dates with handsome older men. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Lily mused for a few moments. “They’re a lovely couple.”

“You’ll be staying in touch with them, then? Whatever happens?”

“Oh… yes.” Lily surprised herself with her sense of certainty, of the rightness of this new relationship. “Yes, I will.”

A few minutes later Ben turned the car into Mytholm Bridge’s main street. He slowed down, signalled to turn into the car park at the Black Horse.

“Could we go to yours tonight?”

Ben cancelled the indicator and continued straight on.

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Ben followed Lily up the stairs to his flat. She marched past the door to the lounge-cum-dining room, headed straight down the corridor to the bedroom at the end.

“Tired?” he asked.

She stopped in the doorway, turned to peek at him over her shoulder. “No, not really. Just… sort of wired. My head’s buzzing.”

“Are you okay?” He laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him, then pulled her in close.

“Yes, I’m fine. Buzzing in a good way, I think. I don’t want to sleep, not yet.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Is it all right? For me to say, I mean?”

“Of course. You know the rules. I’m in control, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ask for what you want.”

He watched, amused, as she chewed on her lower lip. “I want something intense. Something sort of… edgy. Scary. I want to know I’m alive.”

“Do you want it to hurt?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, it has to hurt.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“What’s the most painful thing? What hurts the most?”

“Depends on the sub, but the general consensus is that caning’s a bitch and takes some beating, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

“Caning? Like at school?”

“I’m not sure what sort of quaint educational establishments you have here but in the States we don’t go in for such archaic methods. No, I’m thinking of a big girl caning, for consenting adults only, if that’s what you want to try.”

“You actually have a cane? Here?” Her eyes were round, excited. The gleam of fearful anticipation was unmistakable, her curiosity almost palpable.

“I’m fairly certain I can find something that will do the job very nicely.”

“And, will you fuck me? After?”

“I might. If you’ve earned my cock.”

“I will. I will earn it.” Her vehement whisper reverberated in the still, quiet room.

Ben leaned in to nuzzle the shell of her ear. He teased a lock of hair back, catching it behind her lobe. “Be careful what you wish for, little Lily. I mean to fuck your ass.”

“I…” She nodded. “I know. I think I always knew that would be next. I’m ready.”

“You will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I trust you. I want this.”

“Why? Why do you want it?”

“I want to please you. That makes me feel good, calms the buzzing. I find my peace when I obey you.”

He wrapped her hair around his fist and tipped her head back, then laid his mouth over hers. Her lips parted, widening to accept his tongue as he plunged inside her mouth. Ben deepened the kiss, tongue-fucking her mouth to seal his possession, his ownership.

Mine. All mine.

He broke the kiss, straightened. Lily’s eyes were glazed, her lids already heavy as arousal built and her surrender to him deepened.

“Remove your clothes, then kneel on the bed and wait for me.” He brushed his lips over hers again, the kiss brief and chaste, then left her there to do as he said. It never occurred to him that she would not.

In the kitchen, Ben wasted no time in unhooking the Venetian blind control from the mechanism at the window. The long plastic tube that slid the laths along the rail was light, flexible, narrow enough to concentrate the force of his blow yet would deliver enough of a punch to do the job. It was controllable too, vital for a first caning. He tried a few experimental strokes against his own hand, then his thigh. Ben understood the importance of getting the feel of the instrument before going anywhere near his sub with it, had had that drummed into him as a young, newbie dom. He could hear his mentor’s stern tone now. Know what you’re doing, lad. Never harm a sub by accident.

Satisfied, Ben started back for the bedroom. His makeshift cane was stingy, could be a bit of a bastard, probably, if his mood was really sadistic. But not tonight. Tonight Lily wanted to build a memory. She wanted to be pushed to her limits, and he would do that for her.

She was naked when he re-entered the bedroom. Her back was turned to him, her heels tucked under her perfect bottom and her hands folded on her thighs. Her head was bowed, the plummy purple streaks in her hair catching the light from the lamp mounted on the wall above his bed. She had never looked lovelier.

Ben moved into the room. He placed his implement on the chest by the door and stood behind Lily.

“Still up for this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Five strokes will be enough for this first time. Usual safe words.”

“Red, yellow, green.”

“Right. You’ll kneel on the bed, leaning forward and lifting your bottom up as high as you can. The cane will land on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and it will fucking hurt so be under no illusions about that. You’ll keep still. If you need me to stop, use your safe words. No wriggling or trying to escape.”

“You could tie me to the bed.”

“I won’t need to. You want this, you’ll keep still.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“One thing, though. I am going to tie your wrists behind your back. It’s vital you don’t move your hands at the wrong time and try to protect yourself. That’s an instinct, you may do it without thinking and I could really hurt your fingers if I catch them with the cane. This is for your protection.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He helped her to position her hands, each elbow cupped in the opposite palm, then he bound them with the scarves he had used a few nights ago to tie her to the bed. “How’s that? Not too tight?”

“It’s fine, Sir.”

Ben grabbed a pile of pillows and shoved them in front of her. “Lean forward then. Take your time and get comfortable.”

He waited, allowed her the space she needed to settle, to sink into the submissive frame of mind that would carry her though this and out the other side to find the release she sought. When she went still and utterly silent, he picked up the cane.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.” She braced.

Ben smiled. How little she knew. How much she had to learn. It started here.

He caressed her buttocks with his free hand, first the right, then the left. “Have I told you what a beautiful ass you have, my Lily? A perfect ass for spanking.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He dropped a couple of light slaps on each rounded cheek, admired the rosy glow which bloomed at once, spreading across her skin in a peachy smudge. He spanked harder, bringing the redness up sharply, then started to stroke and caress her again. He curled his fingers inwards to scratch the now warm flesh with his fingernails.

Lily writhed under his touch. He knew she was confused, put off balance by his unexpected gentleness, aroused by the pleasure-filled sting.

“Sir…?”

“Hush. Be patient.”

“But—”

“No talking. You can scream, or use a safe word. Nothing else.”

She fell silent, her body poised, utterly motionless. It was time.

Ben laid the cane softly against her bottom, the rod spanning both cheeks. He brought it back and forth in a slow, sawing movement, drawing the length of it across her skin. Lily flinched at the first contact, stiffened as he moved, then relaxed as he stroked back and forth, back and forth. He waited until her breathing slowed, then with a quick flick of his wrist he lifted the cane and dropped it hard on her unprotected, unsuspecting ass.

Lily lurched forward, let out a sharp cry. Ben let the cane lie where it fell for several seconds, then lifted it away. The narrow, vivid crimson streak glowed across the already pink flesh. The contrast was crisp, clear, utterly beautiful. Ben traced the line with his fingertip, pressing slightly, enough to make her hiss.

“So beautiful. Exquisite. You mark so well, Lily.”

Obedient, she didn’t reply. She turned her face to meet his gaze though, and he saw the satisfaction in her expression, her desire, her greed for more.

He laid the cane across her buttocks again, an inch or so lower than the first stripe. She took longer to relax this time. She knew his tricks, knew what was coming. Or so she thought. Instead of flicking his wrist to deliver the next stroke, Ben just stopped. And waited. And waited. Lily squirmed, panted. He swore she was on the point of begging, if she dared. But that would mean disobeying his instruction that she be silent, and she wouldn’t do that.

“Spread your legs.” The command was low, almost a growl. She shifted so fast he almost laughed out loud. So eager to please. So desperate for sensation. So responsive.

He slid his free hand around the front of her thighs and reached between them. Her cunt was drenched, her folds dripping. He pinched her clit, hard, at the same moment he dropped the cane across her ass again. Lily shuddered, let out a strangled yelp and would have come on the spot had he not released her clit and spread her labia wide. Robbed of the stimulation needed to tip her over the edge, she shook and trembled, grunting as the pain seeped into her tissues.

Again, Ben stroked and played with the new welt, teasing new waves of pain out of it, pressing hard enough to make her groan.

The next stroke followed a similar pattern to the first. Lily ceased to anticipate, accepted whatever he did to her. The third ribbon of bright crimson erupted across her bottom, perfectly parallel to the first two. Ben prided himself on his accuracy.

He prepared her for the fourth stroke by circling her clit with the flat of his fingers, then plunging three of them deep into her pussy. She panted hard, her mouth slack now. She was close, he could tell, but he wouldn’t allow her to come. He’d keep her on the edge, wanting, needing, her ass smarting from his cane and her greedy cunt clenching around his fingers.

He dropped the next stripe right on her sweet spot, the place where ass meets thigh. She wouldn’t sit comfortably for a day or so. Her cries had become keening moans, tears flowed freely. Lily ground her teeth together as she fought to process the pain, to let it cascade down, deepen, sink into her innermost recesses before eventually ebbing away to become a dull throb.

He knew the moment she reached that point, the stage where she needed the next stroke, the final one to complete the challenge.

Ben positioned the cane across her thighs and started to tap. He kept the strokes light, almost imperceptible at first, building slowly, so slowly, like a drum roll. He liked to think of his sadism as an art form, painting his marks on the willing body of his submissive, his mastery etched into her skin. The final stroke was hard, harder than the rest and in a more sensitive spot. Lily screeched, her body lurched forward to lie quivering across the pillows. Ben rubbed his latest piece of handiwork, merciless in his play.

Lily’s lips moved, but no sounds came out. He allowed her a few moments respite then ordered her back into position. She was quick to do as he told her, and Ben took a few moments to peruse his freshly painted canvas.

“How’s the buzzing now?”

“Gone, Sir. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. You look beautiful.”

“I feel beautiful.”

“And so fuckable.”

“Sir, please…”

“Don’t move.” Ben grabbed a tube of lubricating gel and a condom from the drawer beside the bed. Lily’s hands were still bound and he rather liked them that way so he had to part her buttocks himself this time in order to dribble the slick oil around her tightly furled anus.

He worked the lube in, probing with his fingers until she opened to admit his digits, first one, then a second. She was tight, but unresisting. Her entrance slackened with gratifying ease and he finger-fucked her hard. Lily let out the occasional grunt, but was otherwise accepting of the intrusion.

So far so good.

He unsnapped his jeans and shoved them down, His underwear followed. Next, he tore open the condom foil and sheathed himself, then applied a generous coating of lubricant to the head and shaft of his engorged cock. His balls actually throbbed. This wouldn’t take long.

He positioned his cock at her entrance, the bulbous head ridiculously large for the narrow channel. Despite his insistent, aching nuts, he would have to take his time. He’d need to dig deep to find the necessary control.

Fuck that, of course he would. It was his responsibility to make this right, to make it work.

Ben pressed forward. The dark ring of muscle stretched but didn’t surrender.

“Push back against me. Relax if you can.”

“I… I’m trying.”

“I know. It’s okay. You’re doing fine.” He increased the pressure, thrusting against the knot of resistance. Her entrance started to open, to relax. The tip of his cock breached her.

Ben paused, waited a few moments, then pushed again. More of the crown of his cock disappeared inside Lily’s tight ass. Slowly, millimetre by cautious millimetre, he edged forward. Her body stretched to admit him, opening, expanding to take him.

Lily moaned. He knew this was hurting her, stretching her beyond anything she imagined possible but she was submitting to it, for him. He pushed again, penetrating her inner channel until the entire head of his cock was inside. Lily was panting hard, her mouth working. He stopped for a few moments to let her adjust.

“Okay?”

She managed a brief nod.

“Say it, Lily. Colour?”

“G-green, Sir. Still green.”

He withdrew, just slightly, then pressed forward again, this time breaching her further, His shaft started to disappear into her ass, the first inch, then the next. It was easier now, the worst over, the best yet to come. He stroked in and out, each thrust deeper than the one before, until his entire length sank into her. Fully home, Ben took his weight on his hands and lowered himself to kiss the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades.

“My lovely Lily. Such a good girl. My good, sweet, dirty girl.”

“I… I love you, Sir.”

Ah, like that, was it? Even a couple of days ago he would have baulked. He would have told himself this was a temporary thing, a vacation romance, just something transient and opportunistic to pass the time. They were both having fun, nothing serious.

Not now. Now, he had plans and they included Lily.

He pulled back and sank deep into her again, then knelt up and pulled her upright against him. He arranged her knees on either side of his, her thighs spread wide. She was helpless, opened to him, impaled on his cock. He plunged his fingers into her pussy and found her G-spot. The pad of his thumb rubbed her clit. She rolled her hips, groaned her delight.

Christ, she was tight. And hot. So. Fucking. Hot. This wouldn’t last long.

“Come for me, Lily. Now.”

Her orgasm surged forward at his command, her body clenching and convulsing around him. Every squeeze and clench pulsed through his dick, every ripple of pleasure connected straight to his aching, throbbing balls as she contracted and writhed and squirmed in his grasp. He could hold it no longer. His cock lurched. His nuts twisted and compressed. His semen surged up and spurted out, ribbon after ribbon of his seed filled the condom as Lily lay limp in his arms.

When he could move again, he eased her forward, back onto the pillows, and released her elbows from her restraints. He withdrew, dealt with the condom, then lay down behind her and pulled her back into his arms. She winced when her sore bottom pressed against his hips. He pulled her in even closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” Her voice was small, contrite.

“I guessed as much.” She was talking about her impromptu declaration of love. He made no pretence of not understanding what was on her mind.

“I don’t want you to feel… obligated.”

He buried his nose in her hair, loving the silky softness of it. “Lily, what are you talking about? Why would I feel obligated?”

“The love thing. It just sort of slipped out.”

“Yes. I heard.”

“I don’t want you to… I mean, if you don’t feel the same way…”

“Didn’t you mean it?”

“I didn’t mean to say it.”

“That’s not what I asked. It isn’t the same thing.”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

“So,” he pressed her, “did you mean it or was it just something you said in the intensity of the moment?”

“Yes.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It was intense and I suppose that was part of it, but I meant it.”

“Good. And for the record, I try to be careful not to say anything I don’t mean, especially to a sub and most definitely not when my cock is in her ass. Honesty is everything. The truth, always.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Because that would be a conversation I prefer to have in the light of day, with my clothes on.”

“I… I see.”

“I’m not sure you do, but you will. Soon.”

“I don’t want to ruin things. I mean, I know you’ll be going back to America before much longer. I’m not expecting—”

“We’ll talk. Tomorrow.”

“Me and my stupid big mouth. Why couldn’t I just keep it shut? Now I’ve spoiled things.” She sounded so miserable, so despairing.

“Lily, stop obsessing. Things are fine. We’re fine.” He kissed her hair. “And you’re the most lovable submissive I know.”

She rolled over to face him. “Really? You’re not angry with me? Or disappointed?”

“Yeah, really. And why the fuck would I be disappointed? You have a delightfully spankable ass, a tight, hot pussy. And now I find out you’re a pain slut. What’s not to love?”

She poked him in the chest. “There’s more to it than that.”

“There is, and we’ll work out all the subtle details soon enough. Do you think you could sleep now?” He hoped so. He was exhausted.

“Mmm, probably.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Not sure if I can match Gina’s standards, but I have bagels and bacon. Breakfast’s on me in the morning.”

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Thin strands of light penetrated the slats in the blind covering the bedroom window. Ben cracked his eyelids apart and gauged the time to be perhaps half past eight in the morning. He turned over, reached out, searching.

The bed beside him was empty.

What the…? He rolled onto his back and groped over the edge of the bed for his phone. The display confirmed the time to be almost eight-fifteen. Ben sat up, listened for the sounds of activity in the bathroom, or better still the kitchen.

Silence.

He swung his legs out of bed and raked his fingers through his hair. Time to face the day, starting with finding Lily.

A few minutes later he descended the stairs to the empty shop below. He’d quickly established that Lily wasn’t in the flat, but he could hear her voice downstairs. She was talking to someone on the phone, and he caught the tail-end of the conversation as he strolled through the door into the deserted café.

“No, I’m fine. Really. Yes, it has been a bit of a whirlwind. I don’t know what I’d have done without Ben. And Harry. Yes, yes, I will. That’s right. Today.” She glanced up when she caught sight of Ben, lifted a hand in greeting. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Please, don’t worry. It’ll be all right. It’s just… well, you know, not straightforward any more. Now that other people are involved. I’m sorry, I never wanted—” She paused, listened for a few seconds, then, “Okay. Bye, Dad. Love you.” She ended the call.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t Harry?”

Lily shook her head. “I’ll never get used to thinking of him as anything other than Harry. My dad… well, biology aside, I have a dad, however fucked up the situation is.”

Ben walked over and draped his arm around her shoulders. “I know. I get that. Did you tell him everything? About Harry? And talking to Luke?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to disturb you so I came down here to call him.”

“It’s quite a story. How did he take it?”

“He was fine. He didn’t seem that surprised, to be honest. He already knew a fair bit of it, remember. He was there.”

True enough. Ben gave her a hug. “Have you been down here long?”

“A while. I woke early, couldn’t get back to sleep so I came down here. I was just doing some sketches, then I thought it might be a good time to talk to my dad. He tends to get up early, so…”

“Sketches?” Ben noticed several sheets of paper scattered on the old café countertop. “Those?”

“Yes. I hope you don’t mind. It was just that yesterday, when you said you wanted to find a business partner, someone to rent the place, I got to thinking that maybe we could reorganise a bit.”

“Oh, yeah?” He wandered over to pick up the top sheet from the pile. Lily had scrawled a quick plan of the shop, but with various items of furniture arranged about the space. “What do we have here, then?”

“Well, I was thinking we might mix things up a bit. What I mean is, your aunt had the café at this end…” Lily paced toward him, coming to lean on the counter. “There were tables, chairs, the kitchen through there, obviously…”

“Right,” he agreed.

“And the bookshop was at the other end. There were shelves against the walls, a few display units, but if anyone wanted to actually sit and look at a book they had to come into the café area.”

“I suppose she thought it was good for business. She could sell coffee and cakes to the customers as they browsed.”

“Yes, obviously. But what about if the shop and café were all one? We could have more tables, scatter them right through, maybe add in a few couches as well. I’d like to make the whole place more casual and welcoming. It could be a place to relax, to chill out and put your feet up. They’d still buy coffee, but it would be more informal. Hopefully, they’d buy books too.”

“Okay…” Ben wasn’t sure the new layout would make a lot of difference.

“And what about children?”

“Children?”

“Yes. We could have a kids’ book corner, maybe with some toys too, and brightly coloured rugs on the floor to encourage the little ones to sit down. We could have storytelling sessions at the weekends, or in the school holidays, to give people a break from shopping, a chance to sit down and the kids get to enjoy themselves too.”

Ben watched, listened as Lily warmed to her theme.

“If the storytelling catches on, I wondered about expanding it. We’d have to talk to the local schools, but I’m thinking of a kids’ club where children could get help with homework, study support. I read about it online, and there’s a scheme at my university where students volunteer to help schoolchildren with maths, English, science. It could work really well—”

“You’ve clearly given this a lot of thought.”

“Well, I’ve only been working on it since yesterday. But I do think we could introduce some new ideas so that the tenant, when you find one, has something to get their teeth into. As far as I know there isn’t a craft shop anywhere in Mytholm Bridge so we could weave that in as well. I’m thinking of a place where local artisans and hobbyists could sell the stuff they make… cards, paper flowers, jam, jewellery, you know the sort of thing, and we get commission from the sales. That’d be money for nothing.” She stopped to pick up the rest of the papers, held them out to him. “I drew a few different layouts to show how things might fit in. I also wondered about putting some tables in the yard at the back. You know, where your car’s parked? In the summer that could be a real draw, a suntrap. We could have lots of pretty potted plants…”

“Okay. Sounds good.” He particularly liked the idea of outdoor seating.

“Really? You’d consider my suggestions?”

“Why not? What about the café? Would you hire a cook?”

“Probably. Or buy the cakes in. The chances are whoever you rent the property to will either be a cook or a bookseller, but not both so they’d need to have staff. I know your aunt ran it on her own, but if the business is to grow…”

“Exactly. We should advertise for a cook. And start sourcing suppliers for all this new furniture we’ll be needing.”

“What? Now? But what about finding the tenant?”

“I’m looking at her. I hope.”

“Eh?”

“Unless you have something you absolutely have to go back to Devon to do? We’ve established that you’re not working on a PhD, and you said your job in the university library was likely to be eliminated. You have an obvious flair for a business such as this, selling books, making people feel at home. You said you’d be looking for something else to do. Why not this?”

“I know nothing about running a business.”

“These say otherwise.” Ben tapped the sheath of sketches. “You’re full of ideas, and your enthusiasm is infectious. You’d be great at it.”

Lily shook her head. “I could never afford the rent. And what about the costs of getting it all started? I mean, I have a bit of money, my mum left me a few thousand when she died, but I might need to use that to pay for my dad’s care. I couldn’t just—”

“If we need money we can go to the bank. And we can negotiate about the rent. I want this venture to succeed whoever my tenant is. I’ll make sure it’s affordable.”

“I can’t. My dad needs me, I have to go back.”

“At least give it some thought. If you want this, we can work something out.”

“I can’t run a shop all on my own, or even with a cook to help me. I just…”

“I don’t mean you to be on your own. I’m thinking I might stay, at least for a while, help to get it all established. I can work from here as easily as from Chicago, and I’m becoming pretty fond of the flat upstairs. There’s room there for both of us.”

Lily gaped at him. “You mean you want me to live here? With you?”

“Why not? You did say you love me, even if it was in an unguarded moment, so I’m hoping it won’t seem like such a trial. I’m house trained, and I’m working on you.”

“You want to live with me? Go into business with me?”

“I do, yes. I can’t think of anyone better suited for what I have in mind.”

“But, what if we…?”

“What if we what?”

“What if…? I mean, right now, we’re involved and… and…”

“Involved? By which you mean I’m fucking you? Spanking you? Tying you to my bed?”

“Yes. All of that.”

“Which only serves to indicate how much we have in common, how compatible we are.”

“For now, yes. But what about when you do decide to move on? What if you meet someone else? You don’t love me, you said so.”

“I didn’t say that. I would have remembered.”

“Last night. You told me you wouldn’t say something you don’t mean.”

“Ah, yes. I do remember saying that. I also remember telling you that we’d discuss it in the morning, in the light of day.” He glanced at the window. “Well. It’s light now so listen to me and listen carefully. To set the record straight, I do love you. I adore you. I adore your submission, that goes without saying, but I also love your courage, your determination, your resourcefulness, and your damn loyalty to the people who matter to you, however misplaced it may seem. I love your weird-coloured hair, your gorgeous sexy eyes, and your utterly spankable ass. I believe I may have mentioned that already.” He paused, lifted one expressive eyebrow.

Lily managed a nod. “Yes, yes, you did say something…”

“I love the sounds you make when you come, and the little breathy noises when you’re trying to hold your orgasm back but just can’t. I love the way you chew on your lower lip when you’re nervous or scared, and that grin that splits your face when you’re happy. There’s a lot about you to love, Lily Jamison. So yes, I want to live with you. And I want to work with you to rebuild my aunt’s business. I’d like you to say yes right now, but I realise, being the cautious little soul you are, that you’ll probably want to think about it so I’ll shut up now. But make no mistake, you haven’t heard the end of this. I’m going to do all I can to convince you to stay here. With me.”

“I… I thought, when you wouldn’t say it last night…”

“Would you have believed me? Back then, in the heat of the moment?”

“I might. I don’t know…”

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Definitely.”

“Like I said, that conversation is best saved for the light of day, with our clothes on. So, now we both know where we stand, will you consider managing my bookstore and café for me?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a wonderful opportunity, and I’m flattered you think I could do it, but—”

Ben laid a finger across her lips. “Don’t answer now. Think about it. Imagine it, visualise the shop as you think it should be, and picture yourself running it. If that’s the future you want, we’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“Really? Could we?”

“We can do whatever we choose to do. Richard Jamison taught you that much at least. You told me he did.”

“I suppose…”

“Come on.” He held out his hand to her. “You must be hungry after all this business planning. I have bacon waiting.”

“I’m starving,” Lily acknowledged.

“So let’s eat. Luke’ll probably be here in a couple of hours or so, and then the day should get really interesting.”

“Don’t. I’m so nervous. What if he—?”

“He will accept the truth. He’ll have to, DNA doesn’t lie.”

 

* * *

 

She would never have recognised him. Not ever.

Ever since she’d learnt of her connection to the Havers family, Lily had fondly imagined that the blood relationship would somehow be obvious. She would know her older brother, be able to pick him out of a crowd.

The man who sat across from her in Gina’s bar was a stranger.

“You don’t look like me. Or my mother.” An angry stranger who clearly doubted every word she said to him.

“No. I… I take after my father’s side.” She exchanged a look with Harry, seated beside her.

“So you say. Am I supposed to actually believe that my mum had some sort of sleazy affair with a garage mechanic?”

“I don’t know that it was sleazy, exactly.” Lily attempted to placate her brother, though she was not entirely sure why it felt like her responsibility to smooth things over. Dammit, none of this mess was of her making.

It wasn’t Luke’s doing either, she reminded herself. And blaming Harry seemed equally pointless.

“What do the police have to say about all of this?”

Lily stared at her brother, caught off guard by his question. “The police?”

“Yes. I assume they’ve been told by now. They’ll be reopening the case. Snatching a baby is a serious offence.”

“Of course, but we thought, perhaps…”

Luke rounded on her. “Perhaps what? That we’d all pretend this is somehow all right? That no harm was done and anyway it doesn’t really matter after all these years?”

“No, but—”

“If you don’t tell them, I will.”

“Hold on.” Ben’s tone was calm. Lily appreciated his efforts to defuse the growing tension but was not optimistic. He continued. “We will inform the authorities and no one is making light of this. Lily just needs a bit more time. She already explained about her father being ill.”

Luke was unimpressed. “Her father? That man she’s protecting is a criminal. A kidnapper. My mum never got over losing her child. Why should I feel any sympathy for him now? For any of you, come to that?”

“Have you been in touch with Sharon?” Harry ignored the rising tension around the table. “She needs to know what’s happened here.”

“Not yet. And I won’t, not until I’m sure.” Luke met Ben’s gaze. “It’s good to see you again, mate, and I do at least recognise you. I don’t know of any reason you’d have to be making any of this up, but even so…”

“I understand.” Lily was quick to reassure. She did appreciate the need for caution, for not raising false hopes. Luke was right to want to protect his mother. Their mother. But having come so close, she was desperate to see Sharon again. “Perhaps when we get the test results…”

Her brother narrowed his eyes. They had wasted no time in addressing the practicalities and Harry had the samples safely in his jacket pocket and would be taking them to Manchester that day. “Right. The test results. When—?”

“A day or two,” confirmed Harry.

“Could I ask, did my mother… Sharon… did she stay in the area? I know she went to London when she left here, but I was wondering if maybe she came back? Is she living locally?”

Luke regarded her, his gaze assessing. “No, she doesn’t live round here.”

“I see. So—?”

“Florida. She remarried. Her new husband owns a firm that installs air conditioning units.”

Lily fought not to show her disappointment. “Florida? In the U.S.? Oh…”

Ben grinned. “That’s not so far away, believe me. Air conditioning, eh?”

“That’s right. I gather they make a decent living.”

“You didn’t go with them?” Lily asked.

Luke shook his head. “No. Barry, that’s my stepdad, already had two kids. I fancied a quiet life so I joined the Paras.”

“Fair enough,” observed Ben.

“Is she well? Happy?” Lily leaned forward, eager for any snippet of information Luke might share.

“Yes, I think so. There was a health scare a few years back, but she’s fine now.” Luke paused, then went on. “She had two more children. Girls. They’re in their teens now.”

“Oh.” Lily’s head spun. More siblings, sisters this time. “I… I hope to meet them. All of them. Soon.”

“Let’s wait for the test results, then decide what to do.”

“Will you be staying in Mytholm Bridge?” asked Harry. “Until then?”

“Yes, probably. I suppose I ought to go and see my father while I’m here.”

“Good luck with that,” observed Ben. “Were you thinking of staying with him at your old house?”

“Hardly.” Luke glanced around the bar of the Black Horse. “Do you suppose they have a vacant room here?”

“You can have mine.” Lily felt the flush rise up her cheeks. “I… I was thinking I might move in with Ben for a while, at the café.”

Luke frowned at his old friend. “I thought your aunt’s old place was closed.”

“It is,” Ben confirmed. “We’re thinking of reopening. Lily has some ideas for how to develop the business.”

Harry tilted his head, his intelligent gaze missing nothing of the exchange. “Really? That’s good news. The town could do with a new attraction. So you two will be partners, then?”

Lily shrugged. “We’re not sure. We’re just talking about it for now, and—”

“That’s the plan.” Ben took Lily’s hand and beamed at their companions. “I’m trying to convince Lily to take on the management of the shop and café for me. I think it could be a lucrative venture, very rewarding, for both of us.”

Harry was of a similar mind. “It’d be good to have you in Mytholm Bridge, Lily. I hope you will decide to stay. And what about you, Ben? Are you planning on remaining in the UK for a while?”

He smiled at Lily. “That rather depends on my new business partner, but currently I have no plans to leave.”

Lily swallowed hard, trying to take in the implications. No plans to leave?

“What do you do for a living, Ben?” Harry’s enquiry was polite, and reminded Lily how brief their acquaintance had really been. Everything had happened so fast.

“I’m a security consultant. Freelance. I’ve been based in Chicago, but I can work from anywhere with an internet connection. Mytholm Bridge suits me fine, for now.”

“Miss Jamison?” Lily started at the voice behind her. She swivelled in her seat, to be confronted by a neon yellow high visibility jacket. “Miss Lily Jamison?”

“Yes? Can I help you?” She peered up at the police officer. “I’m Lily Jamison.”

“I wonder if we could speak to you. We’ve received a report of a crime. An alleged baby snatch which took place…” the officer consulted his notebook, “in nineteen ninety-eight.”

“What? No…” She glared at Luke. “You promised.”

He shrugged. “I promised nothing. But even so, this isn’t my doing. It wasn’t me who went to the police. I was about to, but I didn’t. Not yet.”

Harry was equally quick to deny it. “Not me. You know what I think, but I didn’t go behind your back. I wouldn’t.”

“Then, how…?”

The police officer cleared his throat. “The report came from a Mister Richard Jamison. He presented himself to my colleagues in Devon and is currently assisting with enquiries at Paignton police station—”

“He’s been arrested?” Lily jumped to her feet.

“No, miss. He’s assisting with our enquiries. I gather he’s been most helpful.”

She grabbed her bag. “I need to go. I need to be there. He’s not well, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Lily, wait…” Ben rose too. “Let’s think about this.”

“No! There’s nothing to think about. My dad needs me. I need to tell Gina I’m checking out, and—”

“Look, if you want to go to Devon we will. No problem. I’ll drive you.” Ben turned to the police officer. “That’s okay, isn’t it? We are free to go?”

“Of course, sir. We were advised that Miss Jamison might be found at this location and that she may be able to shed some light on what actually occurred here in nineteen ninety-eight. This is a historical case, I’m given to understand, but it’s a potentially serious matter so Miss Jamison is going to be required to provide us with a statement, but she can give that to Paignton police if she prefers. I just need to advise my colleagues…”

Lily was already heading for the door. “Do that, please. Harry, could you explain to Gina?”

“No problem. I’ll sort things out here.”

“I need to settle my bill, and—”

“I said I’d sort it. You just do what you need to do.”

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

“I still can’t believe you did that. What on earth were you thinking?” Lily adjusted the flow of oxygen on Richard Jamison’s breathing apparatus and waited until he raised his hand to indicate the level was correct. “Just marching into the police station like that!”

Ben watched from the doorway of the bedroom as Lily fussed around making her father comfortable after spending the best part of a day answering questions in the police interview suite. The older man caught Ben’s eye but was unable to offer any comment because of the mask covering his mouth and nose. Probably just as well, thought Ben. Lily was in no mood to listen to reason.

They’d made the trip from Yorkshire in a little over five hours, and Lily had fretted through every one of the near enough three hundred miles. Once in Paignton she insisted that Ben drive her straight to the police station, where they had to wait a further six hours before Richard Jamison was finally released on police bail. After perfunctory introductions, Lily bundled the older man into the back of Ben’s hired car and gave directions to find the neat semi-detached house in the suburbs where Ben gathered she had lived for most of her life. Between them they helped Richard inside, and assisted him into the stair lift. Lily was adamant that her father should go straight to bed and no one was arguing.

Now that he had the opportunity to study the man more closely Ben concluded that Richard Jamison looked considerably older than his fifty-three years. He was thin, looked frail, his complexion ashen and his breathing laboured. Ben supposed the stress of recent weeks had taken their toll, along with his illness. Lily’s fears for her father’s health were well-founded and a few hours spent helping the police hadn’t improved matters.

“We’ll get a solicitor,” she announced to the room in general. “There must be some way to sort this mess out. We can retract whatever confession you made, and…”

Richard clawed at the oxygen mask. Lily laid her hand over his.

“No, leave it. We can talk in the morning.”

Richard shook his head and grabbed at the tubing that connected the mask to the large cylinder beside his bed.

Ben moved forward into the room. “He might rest easier if you let him say what he wants to say.”

“Not yet. Tomorrow,” snapped Lily. “He needs to rest.”

Richard took advantage of her brief lapse to grasp the mask and pull it away from his face. “No retraction. I had to do it. All this had to stop.”

“Dad, don’t—”

Richard scowled at her. “Stop fussing, love. I’m fine. The police doctor gave me oxygen.”

“You’re exhausted,” she argued. “Get some sleep.”

“I will. Soon. First I want to say hello to your young man.” He held out his hand. “We’ve not been properly introduced. I’m Richard, Lily’s father.”

Ben took the proffered hand. “Ben Tyler.”

Richard managed a wan smile. “I wish we’d met in better circumstances. So, you’re the young man who was there, that day? The American? Lily told me she’d met you and you helped her to find out more about what happened.”

“Yes, I was there. I helped look for baby Grace, in the river.”

“I’m sorry.”

A simple statement, just two little words. They were all Richard Jamison had to offer, and wholly inadequate. Ben decided to try a different tack.

“I think Lily would like to know what prompted you to give yourself up. Why now? After all this time?”

“No, it’s all right. I don’t—”

Richard interrupted Lily’s protestations. “I did it because I knew she never would. And it had to be done. You know that, now that it’s all coming out into the open. It was just a matter of time before someone went to the police. The other family must be saying the same thing.”

Ben dipped his head, acknowledging the truth of Richard’s words.

“Lily wants to protect me, I understand that, but it’s not her responsibility. I don’t want anyone else suffering or getting into trouble because of what I did, what we did. Especially not my daughter. So, I put a stop to it, once and for all. I came clean. It’s what I should have done years ago. Now the law can take its course and that can be the end of it.”

Hardly, thought Ben. Twenty years of separation. Of pain. Of loss. There was little the law could do to erase that. But it was, after all, all they had to fall back on.

Lily sat on the edge of his bed. “What did they say? The police? Are they pressing charges?”

“Yes, I expect so. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t. The duty solicitor thought I might get up to seven years.”

“No! Surely we can—”

Richard patted her hand. “I’ll get a decent lawyer. With luck the court might go easy, given that I did confess.”

Eventually. And twenty years too late. Ben saw no reason to point out the obvious.

“…and I’ll be pleading guilty.”

“But… seven years?” Lily was close to tears again.

“There’s more. Something I didn’t tell you, but I have told the police. The reason I didn’t report what had happened straight away, well, part of it.”

“Dad? What do you mean?”

“I never expected us to get away with abducting a baby. I never expected to get more than a few miles before we were stopped. I even pulled up in a lay by just before we joined the motorway and waited. Your mother was going mad with me, demanding that I drive but I refused to move for almost two hours. I was positive the police would come.”

“Why? Why were you so sure? I mean—”

“He saw.” Richard cut across Lily’s questions.

Ben leaned in closer, a bizarre idea beginning to form. Surely he didn’t… couldn’t have. “Who? Who saw?”

“The man.” Richard reached for Lily’s hand. “When I got back into the car, just after Susanne snatched you, she told me that there had been a man next to the pram. He was asleep when she arrived, but he woke up as she was picking you up. He spoke to her, she said.”

Lily gaped, open-mouthed. It fell to Ben to prompt the older man for more.

“What did the man say?”

“He asked what she thought she was doing. He was none too polite about it, I gather.”

“Right. I’ll bet. And then? What did she tell him?”

“Nothing. She never said a word, just grabbed our Lily and ran.”

Ben raked his fingers through his hair. “Did this man come after her? Try to stop her?”

Richard Jamison shook his head. “Not as far as I know. I only saw Susanne running toward me with the baby. There was no one following her. But he must have been able to see our car from where he was. He saw her get in, he had to. It would have only needed him to tell the police what colour, what make…”

“He didn’t though.” Ben put an arm around Lily, who had begun to tremble. “He went along with the drowning story, even jumped into the river to make it look more real. Jesus Christ, what was Charles Havers thinking?”

Richard shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I’ve never been able to make any sense of it. But you can see why I never expected to get more than a few miles. I was baffled when no one stopped us. Eventually I gave up waiting and carried on toward home. Then there was no news report of a stolen baby. That would have made national headlines, but there was nothing. I confess I didn’t check the local news for that area or I would have seen the report of the missing child. Those first days were just… crazy. I expected the knock on the door at any moment, but it didn’t come. And by the time I began to believe that the police weren’t on our trail, and this whole thing wasn’t about to be taken out of my hands, it was too late.” He turned to look at Lily. “I couldn’t part with you by then. I loved you, you see.”

Lily was sobbing in earnest now. “So did they. My real parents. They loved me too. Well, my mother did. As for him…” Lily peered at Richard through her tears. “What did the police say about Charles Havers?”

“They’ll interview him. He’ll probably deny it, but why would Susanne have lied about that? Anyway, there’ll be no more lies, at least not from me. I wanted it all to be out in the open at last.”

“I need to speak to him. Ask him…” Lily got to her feet as though she might rush off right at that moment to confront Charles Havers.

Ben caught her before she reached the door. “Okay, we will. We’ll both go, but we have to give the police a chance to talk to him first. If we let Charles know the police are on to him, well, he might just disappear. Or get some story lined up. And in any case your dad needs you here, at least for now. Charles Havers can fucking wait.”

He thought she might argue further but she didn’t. Instead she returned to perch on the edge of her father’s bed. “Maybe they’ll take all this into account. The police… The courts… I mean, you’ve helped to solve a crime.”

She had a point, considered Ben. Exactly what crime Charles Havers had committed remained to be seen but no doubt British law would come up with something suitable.

 

* * *

 

“Is he asleep?” Ben poked his head around the kitchen door as Lily descended the stairs.

“Yes. I managed to get him to wear the oxygen mask. He’ll be a lot better in the morning.” She wandered in to join him.

“Okay. Good. I found a pizza in the freezer and shoved it in the oven. It’s about ready, I think.” He crouched to take the food from the oven, set it on a plate, and sliced it into quarters.

“Thanks.” Lily sank into a chair. “There might be some salad in the fridge.”

“No lettuce, but I did find a bottle of Pinot Grigio.”

“Better still. I’ll get the corkscrew.”

“Richard did the right thing. You do know that?” Ben took a bite of his pizza and chewed thoughtfully. “Even if it did take him twenty years to come around to the idea. And holy fuck, I’d be interested to hear Charles Havers’ version of it.”

Lily grimaced. “Me too but I don’t think anything would surprise me now about that man. It’s my dad I really care about and I’m scared for him. If he goes to jail…”

When he goes to jail. “He seems resigned to it,” Ben said. “He’s ready.”

“I’m not. I just wish—”

“He did it because he loves you.”

“Yes. And I suppose that’s what’s at the root of all this. If he hadn’t loved me he might have stopped my mother from keeping me. He could have, back then…”

“Probably. But it is what it is. Now, we move forward.”

“Yes.”

Lily’s phone trilled in her pocket. “That’s probably Harry, wondering how we are. I suppose I’d better tell him about Charles. Luke too…” She pulled it out, put the phone on speaker and hit reply.

“Grace?” The female voice was unknown.

“Sorry?” Lily glanced at Ben. “Who is this?”

“I apologise for just calling out of the blue like this but I had to speak to you. I had to know… My name’s Sharon. Sharon Havers. My son—”

“Mum?” Lily’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Is it you?”

“Yes. Grace? I—”

“Mum. My mum…” She grabbed the phone and pressed it to her chest. Tears streamed across her cheeks as she stared at him, lost for words. In any case none were needed. Ben concluded that Luke had clearly relented on the matter of the DNA test and had contacted his mother straight away.

“My baby girl. Grace. They said… they told me…” Sharon’s voice was muffled now as Lily hugged the phone.

“I know. I know.”

“I don’t understand how this happened. How could…” The voice on the other end broke down. Lily, too, was sobbing. Ben opened his mouth to say something, anything, but thought better of it. This was not his moment. He helped himself to another slice of pizza and slipped out of the room.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for meeting us.” Lily smiled at Luke as he strode along the street toward them. “I appreciate you being here.”

“Try stopping me.” Luke gave her a quick hug then held out his hand to Ben who was getting out of the driving seat of his hired car. “How was the journey?”

“Fine.” Ben shook the hand offered, his expression tight. “Have you heard anything from the police?”

“I chased them up. The case was reopened after Richard Jamison’s confession and Charles Havers was taken in for questioning a couple of days ago.”

“But they let him go.” Lily’s heart sank. Surely if the police thought Charles had played some part in her disappearance they wouldn’t have released him.

“He’s on bail. The inspector leading the case was quite forthcoming, given my obvious interest and connection to the case. I’m a victim, same as you, same as my mum, so they have a duty to keep us updated.”

“I suppose so. On bail? Does that mean…”

“He admitted it. Eventually. He’s claiming it was a spur of the moment thing, unplanned. His story was that he was half-asleep, didn’t realise what was happening until it was too late. He sort of got into the lie then didn’t know how to get out. Events moved so fast, he got caught up.”

“Do they believe him?” Lily sure as hell didn’t.

Luke shook his head. “He’s on bail pending further investigations. They’ll probably want to talk to Jamison again.”

“I think my dad already told them all he knows.”

“Charles waded into the river with us. You remember that, right?” Ben pocketed his car keys and narrowed his eyes as he recalled that day. “He wasn’t half-asleep then. He did that on purpose to distract everyone from what had really happened. It’s as though he didn’t want Grace—sorry, Lily—to be found.”

“Just what I’m thinking. So, shall we ask him, then?” Luke opened the garden gate and started up the path leading to Charles Havers’ front door. Lily and Ben followed.

Luke knocked on the door, hard. Several seconds passed and there was no sound from within. Luke knocked again, then bent to call through the letterbox.

“Dad? It’s me, Luke. Open this door.”

Nothing. Silence.

“I know you’re in there. Open this fucking door.” Luke rattled the letterbox and tried the door handle. Neither availed him anything so he resumed hammering on the door with the side of his fist. The doors on either side opened as curious neighbours poked their heads out to find out what the commotion was about.

“I think he might have gone shopping,” ventured the young woman with a small child on her hip who lived in the adjoining house. “Or maybe to the library.”

“Thank you,” growled Luke, already rifling through his jacket pockets, “but I think we’ll just check.” He produced a bunch of keys and started sifting through. He selected the one he wanted and fitted it into the keyhole.

The neighbour took issue with that. “Hey, I don’t think—”

“It’s okay, I used to live here. He’s my father.” Luke turned the key and the lock clicked. He nodded at Lily. “Bingo!”

Luke led the way, straight to the small front lounge. Charles Havers was just rising from his chair, his expression one of fury.

“How dare you? I’ll have the police on you, breaking in here…”

Luke held up his keys. “I let myself in. Please, don’t get up.”

“Give me that key. Now.” Charles advanced on his son, his features contorted in anger. “You’ve no right—”

Luke pocketed the keys. “If you’ve a problem with me letting myself in, you can change the locks. We’re here to talk.”

“I’ve nothing to say, not to you.”

“No? What about to Grace then?” Luke reached for her hand to bring her forward into the room. “You remember our little Grace, don’t you? My baby sister, the one who was abducted while you sat and fucking watched.”

Charles’ baleful gaze swung to Lily. He raised the corner of his lip in a half-snarl. “You! I knew it, when you were sniffing around here last week. Guessed who you must be. You couldn’t help poking your nose in, could you? Stirring up things long past.”

Luke’s smile was arctic. “While we’re making the introductions, I expect you remember Ben, too. He was with us that day.”

“Get out. All of you. I’m calling the police.”

Luke shrugged. “Feel free. I expect they’ll be as interested as we are to hear what you have to say.” He glanced about the room and selected an armchair opposite the one Charles had been seated in when they arrived. He sauntered across and sat in it. “Shall we all make ourselves comfortable? Lily, there’s room here, on the chair arm, if you’d like…”

Lily followed and perched next to her brother. Ben took up a position behind the chair and leaned casually on the back.

Luke drummed his fingers on the other chair arm and regarded his father coolly. “So, where shall we start?” Charles Havers started to protest but Luke cut him off. “I know, you just talk us through what happened that day by the river. So, you woke up and Susanne Jamison was there, lifting Grace from her pram…” He waited, expectant.

“I told the police that.”

“You did. You also told the police, if I’ve got this right, that you released the brakes on the empty pram and shoved it down the bank into the river.” Luke leaned forward. “Why did you do that, Dad?”

“What does it matter, after all these years? I did, that’s all.”

“Why, Dad? Why pretend she drowned? Why let Ben and me risk our lives trying to save her when you knew all along that Grace was being spirited away in some stranger’s car? Anything could have been happening to her. You knew it, yet you had us wasting our time dredging the fucking river. Why? Why did you do that, Dad?”

“Get out,” snapped Charles Havers.

Luke met his father’s malevolent gaze, his smile confident and as cold as ice. “We’re going nowhere until you tell us what we want to know. I can be patient, you might remember that about me. We’re in no hurry.” He turned to look at his companions. “Are we?”

Ben shook his head. “No. We’ve all the time in the world.”

Lily just managed a nod. She was infinitely grateful that her brother was with her. And Ben. She would never have managed to hold her ground alone.

“So,” continued Luke, “you let a woman you never saw before take your baby from her pram and fuck off God knows where with her. You didn’t try to stop her. You even covered her tracks, helped her to get away. Your own fucking daughter…”

“Not my daughter. She wasn’t mine. That’s the point, but you’re too dim to realise.”

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.” Luke leaned forward, his intent gaze fastened on the older man opposite. “It’s true, Grace wasn’t your daughter. She was Harry Murgatroyd’s daughter, but you weren’t supposed to know that. My mother never admitted it. But you did know, didn’t you?”

Charles Havers let out a disgusted breath. “Harry Murgatroyd? Was that him? The spotty kid from the garage? A greasy little turd who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Was that the little fucker who was messing with my wife? My wife?”

“Yes. It was Harry Murgatroyd,” confirmed Luke. “The question is, how did you find out?”

“I didn’t. At least, I didn’t know who it was. I knew there was someone though, that she’d been playing away. Or I suspected. I had the proof when my lying bitch of a wife told me she was pregnant.”

“Careful,” growled Luke. “That’s my mother, and I won’t have you badmouthing her. Let’s keep this civil, shall we?”

“Couldn’t keep her legs closed, that was her problem. She was always the sa—”

Luke moved so fast Lily almost did not see him leave the chair and grasp Charles Havers by the front of his none-too-white shirt. He dragged the older man to his feet and shook him. “You just used up your one and only warning. Another insulting remark about my mother… our mother… and we’ll be taking this conversation outside. I expect your neighbours would find it our dirty linen interesting. We should share it with them.”

“It’s my business. My private business…”

“And you were always more concerned with appearances than anything else. It only mattered to you what the neighbours and your colleagues might think, not us. Not your own fucking family. Never mind that my mum was unhappy—”

“She wasn’t. I gave her everything. A nice house, clothes, a car. I even had a new driveway laid because she wanted one.”

“A new driveway? That was supposed to make up for the loss of her baby? Are you absolutely deranged or just too fucking stupid to be real?” Luke released his hold on Charles and the older man sank back into his chair.

“It cost a fortune. Proper Yorkshire stone…”

“So, you knew Grace wasn’t yours, even though you didn’t know who the real father was. Is that right?”

“Yes,” spat Charles. “As soon as she told me she was expecting I knew. It couldn’t be mine.”

“Why were you so sure of that? I mean, you and she…”

“I had a vasectomy. Years earlier, soon after you. So it couldn’t be mine.”

“A vasectomy? Mum never mentioned that.”

“She didn’t know.”

“What the fuck…?”

“She doted on you, always running around, looking after you, picking you up if you so much as squeaked. Suddenly she had no time for me. I was patient, though. I told myself it would pass. Then when you were a few months old she got on about wanting another baby. Another squalling brat to monopolise her time while her own bloody husband was shoved to the sidelines. Ignored. I wasn’t having that. One kid was bad enough. So, I made an appointment and got it sorted. No more babies.”

“You got yourself sterilised, without even telling her, when you knew she wanted another child?” Lily jumped to her feet, incensed. “How could you do that?”

“What does it have to do with you? What I do is none of your business.” Charles turned back to Luke. “You must remember what it was like. You were old enough to know. Sharon was besotted with the brat. And I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t confront her because then I’d have to tell her about the vasectomy. You were growing up, I wanted my wife to myself again. What’s wrong with that? I was a good husband and she was always too busy, too preoccupied, or too tired to spend any time with me. When that woman took the baby out of the pram, I thought… well, it was perfect, the perfect solution. The baby would be gone and I’d get my wife back.”

“You’re crazy,” breathed Ben. He moved around the chair to wrap an arm around Lily’s shoulders. “Have you any idea…?”

“I know. I know now. It didn’t work. If anything, Sharon was even more distant after the kid disappeared. I couldn’t talk to her. She just fucking cried the whole time. I gave up…”

Lily was incredulous. “She was grieving. Heartbroken. She thought her baby was dead.”

“I know that. She was supposed to get over it, but she never did. It’s not as though Grace was in any real danger. That woman, whoever she was, was going to look after her.”

Luke shook his head. “My mum didn’t know that. Neither did you, for that matter. You had no idea what would happen to Grace. The truth is, you just didn’t fucking care. Did you?”

“I cared about my wife, my marriage. I cared about you, too. You were my son and she neglected you as much as she did me. I was looking out for you as well.”

Luke waved that away, his tone one of utter disgust now. “Do not… Do not for one moment try to suggest you did any of this for me. You cared about yourself. No one else.”

“Get out, all of you. Get out of my house. Now you know, you’ve got what you came for so just go and leave me alone.”

Luke bestowed one final, withering look on his father. “We’re going. We’ve heard enough. You’re just a pathetic, selfish little man and none of us intend to waste any more time on you. The one good thing to come out of all this is that at last you’ll get what you deserve.” He paused, one eyebrow raised. “Now what did that detective say? Ah, yes… assisting the abduction of a child. Add that to perverting the course of justice and wasting police time… I reckon the courts will have a field day with you. The police are hoping for at least four years.”

“Never. I’ll get a good lawyer…”

“Good luck with that then. We’ll see you in the dock.” Luke sauntered toward the door. Lily and Ben flanked him. They left the house in silence.

Epilogue

 

 

Lily let herself into the rear door of the shop. Her shop. Her café.

She closed and locked the door behind her, flicked on the lights then walked silently through the refurbished ground floor. She paused to admire the three plush green and grey sofas, each one positioned to afford a view of the well-stocked shelves, now stuffed to overflowing with quality second-hand fiction. As well as lining most of the wall space, she had arranged free-standing bookcases around the café. Lily was determined that her customers should never be more than an arm’s reach away from a good read.

Lily selected a book at random, a collection of poems by a local writer. She leafed through it then put it back on the shelf and chose another, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. One of her personal favourites, the volume was in excellent condition and a bargain at three pounds. It might yet find its way into her personal collection, the books she called her ‘keepers.’

She leaned on the new counter to survey her domain. Was it wrong to feel so proud? Surely not.

The solid oak tables and chairs were rustic in design and arranged in a deceptively haphazard manner. She’d gone for an informal vibe and was satisfied with the look. The children’s section was her personal pride and joy, offering the very best in children’s literature but with things to play with too, a mix of traditional toys and twenty-first century digital games. This was a place to be enjoyed, to feel welcome and at home. Her youngest customers could make a mess here if they wanted to, as long as they enjoyed the books on offer, and liked the healthy juices and smoothies she would serve them.

Satisfied that all was just as it should be, Lily turned off the light and headed for the stairs leading to the flat above.

“Are you busy, Sir?” She paused in the doorway of the spare room, the one Ben was using as his temporary studio.

He turned from the computer screen. “Not especially. You’re back early. Everything all right?”

“Yes. Perfect. I was just admiring downstairs.”

“Yeah. Looking good. Are we all set for the big day?”

“Yes.” She hugged herself. “I can’t believe we actually open tomorrow.”

“Well, we do, and it’s going to be a huge success. You’re going to make me lots of money.”

“I hope so…”

“I know so. Yourself too. Gracie’s will be packed to the rafters.”

“Do you think that’s the right name for the café? I’m still not sure…”

“It’s perfect. Especially if you’re going to remain as Lily.”

“I don’t think I could get used to answering to anything else, not now. And Sharon seems to understand.”

“How is she? Settled in at the pub?”

“Yes. Gina’s making a fuss of her and the girls. I’m so glad they managed to get a flight over for the official opening of our café. It’s lovely to see them all again.”

“I suppose we’ll be flying back and forth quite a lot, what with your family to visit, and mine. Maybe I should buy shares in British Airways.”

“I won’t be able to go jetting off so much, at least not for a while. I need to see to our new venture.”

“You’re absolutely right. I knew you’d be the perfect business partner. Very responsible.”

“Thank you. You have many fine qualities too, Sir.”

“I’m pleased you noticed that, though I expected you to spend longer with your family over at the Black Horse. Not that I’m complaining.” He got to his feet and beckoned her to come to him.

Lily moved forward to stand in front of him, tilting her head back to meet his dark sapphire gaze. “I wanted to come home, Sir. To say thank you.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” He leaned in to kiss her mouth.

“I just… it’s all because of you. All of this.”

“I admit I persuaded you to agree to manage the shop for me, and take a share of the profits. You didn’t make it easy. It was a hard sell. But the rest is your doing. You designed the remodel, decided on the stock, did all the promotion and marketing.”

“No, I mean you made it possible. By letting Richard live here too.”

“Well, he doesn’t, not yet.”

“But he will. That solicitor you paid for did a good job. Three years isn’t so bad, it could have been worse, and he’ll be out after eighteen months. Maybe less.”

“Ah, yes. By then I’m hoping we’ll be settled in our own house so he’s welcome to move into this place. I prefer that to having you spend half your life driving up and down that fucking freeway. At least if he’s living here in Mytholm Bridge you can see him every day and stop worrying.”

“Not everyone would see it that way.”

“I’m not everyone. Neither are you. This arrangement works for us. It might have been different if Luke or Sharon was still living here, and Charles Havers won’t be causing any mischief for the next five years.”

“I know. I couldn’t believe it when the judge sentenced him to longer in jail that he did my dad.”

“Richard showed remorse. Charles didn’t. And there were the extra charges. He got what was coming to him. As you say, Richard will be out before long and if Harry can accept him being here… He’s willing to live with it, for your sake, and if he can, then so can I. I do draw the line at sharing this tiny flat with your dad, though, especially as we do make a lot of noise pretty often.”

“Yes, Sir, about that…” Lily sank to her knees before him. “I was wondering if we might…”

“Ah, my sweet slut. I do believe you’re feeling horny.”

“Maybe, Sir. A little. It’s all the anticipation, I suppose. Tomorrow…”

“Get naked. Now.”

Lily’s stomach clenched. Her pussy dampened. It never failed, that timbre in his voice, the low tone of command that turned her insides to molten slush. Quickly she rose to her feet and slipped off her clothes, folding each item neatly before dropping to her knees again. She lowered her gaze and waited for instructions.

“Open my pants and get my cock out.”

Yes! Lily reached for his waistband and unbuttoned the black denim, then lowered his zip. She reached into his underwear to free his erect cock then cradled it in both her hands.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth.” His tone was little more than a growl now. Lily’s cunt convulsed in response.

“Yes, Sir.” She leaned forward to kiss the smooth, rounded head, then twirled her tongue around the crown, lapping at the droplets of pre-cum already forming.

“Did I give permission for that?”

“No, Sir. I apologise.” She leaned back on her heels and risked a glance up at him. Will he spank me as well as fuck me?

“Brat. Go and fetch the paddle from the bedroom. The dark green one, I think.”

Shit. That little fucker bloody hurts. Made of wood, with holes drilled in it, the paddle in question delivered a solid thump. Lily had a love/hate relationship with it and knew she wouldn’t be able to sit in comfort for at least a couple of days. Obedient though, she got to her feet and padded along the hallway to the bedroom.

“You can lean on my desk. Don’t knock anything off.” He had re-zipped his jeans by the time she returned, a sign he meant business. Ben took the paddle from her and gestured that she should assume the required position.

Lily knew exactly what was expected. She bent forward, her arms folded and her cheek resting on them. She made sure her shoulders were down and her bottom tilted upward for the spanking. And she resolved to remain still, however many strokes he decided to give her. Last time it had been ten, and she had managed, more or less.

“Twelve strokes. You need to count, and to ask for each one.”

Christ. That meant she would have to concentrate. She couldn’t lose herself in the pleasure-tinged pain of the punishment, couldn’t sink into the oblivion she often found when he spanked her. Her dom was doing this on purpose, to teach her a lesson.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” She hesitated, then, “Please may I have the first stroke, Sir?”

“So eager. I’m impressed. Would you like me to warm you up first?”

“That would be kind of you, Sir. Thank you.”

“Never let it be said…” He proceeded to pepper her vulnerable backside with a volley of sharp slaps designed to bring the blood to the surface and prepare her for what was to come. Even as she clenched her buttocks and danced from one foot to the other, Lily’s pussy drooled. Her arousal mounted, spiked. A paddling might hurt like fuck, but the idea of it was one monster turn-on.

Ben stopped spanking her and picked up the paddle from where he had left it beside her on the desk. “I think you’re ready now.”

“Th-thank you. May I have the first stroke, please, Sir?”

The pain exploded across her right buttock. Lily shrieked and went up on her toes.

“One,” she gasped. “Thank you, Sir. May… may I have the next, please?”

“Of course.”

Ben obliged by dropping the next spank on her opposite cheek. Her bottom was already on fire, and she had ten more to go. Lily let out another scream, then ground her teeth together as she processed the sensations coursing through her.

“Two, Sir. Thank you. I… I’m ready for the next one, please.”

Ben was wasting no time. The next four strokes were delivered in rapid succession, each one dutifully welcomed and requested as Lily clung to the desk in growing desperation.

Halfway there. Just six to go.

“May I have the next spank, please, Sir?” Her voice was quivering now, she was close to sobbing.

“Seven, thank you…” She waited, gathering her wits.

“Lily? I’m waiting.”

“Sorry, Sir. I was just…”

“Do you want a break?”

“No. No, Sir. I’m fine.” And she needed to get this over with. “May I have the next one, please?”

“Eight. Nine. Ten.” Lily counted and sobbed and danced from one foot to the other as each stroke of the paddle set her backside ablaze.

Ben shifted his stance, adjusting slightly. Lily knew what was coming. Her voice was a low whisper as she requested the next stroke.

“Aaagh!” The crackle of white hot agony rippled across the back of her thigh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“I hope you’re not swearing at me, girl.”

Did that come out loud? “No, Sir. I’m sorry, it was just… It really hurts, Sir.”

“I know. Shall we continue?”

“Thank you. May… may I have the last one now, please?”

“Of course, since you ask so nicely. Lift up, Lily. Let’s make this one count.”

Oh, dear lord…

“Aaaagh!” Lily sagged forward onto the desk, her knees buckling beneath her. But it was over. She’d done it. She was victorious. Exhilarated, purified, and free. It might hurt like fuck but there was no rush like it, no feeling more heady, more intoxicating or euphoric. Her bottom throbbed, each pulsing wave of residual pain a beacon lighting her way to the exquisite climax that hovered just beyond her reach. The prize was there, tantalising, mouth-watering, she could almost touch it. Taste it.

“Sir…? I…”

“On your knees again, girl, facing me.”

She turned then sank to the floor, hissing as her punished buttocks rested on her heels.

“Eyes on me. Hands behind your back. Open your mouth.”

His commands were curt, to the point. Obedience needed to be instant and without question. Lily clasped her hands together in the small of her back and held his gaze as she parted her lips.

Ben unfastened his jeans and shoved them down his hips. He fisted his cock in his hand, pumped several times. Lily glanced at the swollen head and licked her lips.

“Eyes on me, girl. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry, Sir,” she murmured. He wouldn’t paddle her again, would he?

Ben stepped forward, the head of his cock now nudged her open lips. “You’ll swallow my cum. All of it. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nodded and slid his thick cock into her mouth.

Lily had to work to control her gag reflex. This had been hard for her initially, the first time he drove his cock to the back of her throat, but she’d practised, persevered, and got the hang of it. Pretty much. She loved the salty tang of Ben’s pre-cum, but it was still a struggle to open her throat and breathe through her nose while he ground his cock deep into her mouth.

Ben grunted, his azure gaze darkening. His eyes narrowed to slits, his brow furrowed. Lily hollowed her cheeks and sucked as he withdrew, then relaxed as he thrust his hips forward. He fisted his hand in her hair to anchor her head at the correct angle. His strokes became faster, deeper, the pace picking up as his arousal peaked.

Lily’s jaw ached. She opened wider, hummed in her throat, and pressed her tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, yes!” he breathed. “So fucking good…”

Lily pressed harder, the flat of her tongue rubbing the sensitive rim beneath the crown. She curled her lips inwards to create more friction, to scrape against his shaft as he plunged in and out of her mouth.

“Jesus,” he moaned. “Holy fuck…”

His cock leapt between her teeth. Lily sucked harder.

“Christ…” Ben let out an agonised snarl and twisted her hair between his fingers. He drove his erection deep one final time, then stopped. He remained perfectly still as he shot ribbon after ribbon of semen into Lily’s throat. She swallowed, instinctively clearing her airway to make way for more. Determined to lose not a single drop, she gulped it down, savouring the musty, piquant tang that was uniquely Ben.

He withdrew his cock from her mouth and relaxed his grip on her hair. A droplet of semen escaped her lips and he saw. Ben smiled as he righted his clothing and refastened his jeans, then he caught the stray drop with the pad of his thumb and offered it to her to lick.

“Thank you, Sir.” Lily sat back and waited. Hoping.

Ben dropped into a crouch before her, his eyes now on a level with hers.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Sir.”

He winked at her, then straightened and offered her his hand. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable to continue this.”

“Sounds good to me, Sir.” She took his hand and followed him from the room.

 

 

The End

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More Stormy Night Books by Ashe Barker

 

 

Faith

Following her husband’s sudden, tragic death, Faith is left widowed after only six months of marriage. She wallows in grief until a neighbour, Ewan, reaches out to her. Although his work takes him away a great deal, Ewan slowly becomes Faith’s rock, helping her heal and encouraging her as she struggles to rebuild her life. As time passes, Faith grows more and more attracted to Ewan, but one thing holds her back: he is a dom, and she is not ready to be a sub.

Though the idea of kneeling naked at Ewan’s feet excites her in a way she can’t fully understand, Faith fears that his sexual appetites would prove too much for her. But when he discovers that she has been exploring the lifestyle without his knowledge and hiding her activities from him, Ewan issues an ultimatum: either she becomes his submissive, or they go their separate ways. This is just the push Faith needs, and in the end her decision is not a difficult one.

Ewan quickly proves to be a firm, commanding lover who is more than capable of mastering her completely. He challenges Faith’s boundaries and introduces her to a level of sensuality she never dreamed she could experience, and Faith soon finds herself at peace in a way she has not felt in years. But when fate takes another turn and she learns the truth about her husband’s death, can Faith count on Ewan to be by her side as she adjusts to a new reality yet again?

 

The Widow is Mine

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Almost from the moment he sets eyes on her, Stefan cannot imagine allowing Natalia to languish behind the walls of a convent, and he makes no secret of his plans to take her as his bride. The duke is more than ready to compel his new wife’s obedience when it is necessary, but he wants much more than that. Can Stefan ever truly make Natalia his own, claiming her heart as fully as he has claimed her body, or will she forever see herself as no more than the spoils of war?

 

Spirit

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Almost six years pass before Matt sees Beth again, and in that time his vulnerable little waif has reinvented herself as an artist. Now she has a stunning proposition for him and his environmental engineering company: to collaborate on a project fusing art and science to promote one of the most prestigious sporting events in the world. But when Matt demands to know what went wrong before, she tells him the truth, both about her childhood and about his friend’s actions.

Matt is determined to make Beth’s abusers pay for their crimes, but he’s also not about to let her run away from him again. Can Beth bring herself to trust Matt despite her fears and give him the chance to love her and show her the pleasures of being his submissive, or will the wounds of her past keep her from trusting anyone ever again?

 

Shared by the Highlanders

After she becomes lost in a thick mist while hiking near the borders of Scotland, Charlene Kelly is shocked to encounter two men on horseback. To her horror, the pair—both of whom are dressed in Scottish tartans—accost her and won’t let her go. Though the men speak with accents so strong they seem to come from another era, Charlene is able to gather that they believe she is a thieving boy. Unsure what else to do, Charlene plays along.

When Will Sinclair and Robbie MacBride discover that their captive is in fact a woman—and quite a beautiful one at that—there is only one thing to be done. She must be punished for her deception, and punished thoroughly. A switch applied to her bare bottom does the job well, and soon enough the two men are comforting Charlene as she nurses her bright red, sore backside.

Upon learning that the highlanders are hand-carrying an important message from Elizabeth of England to the court of Mary, Queen of Scots, it finally dawns on Charlene that she is no longer in her own time. Though she is desperate to find a way home, Will and Robbie are both unlike any man she has ever met, and their unabashed dominance awakens in her a powerful need to submit. Soon enough, she finds herself blushing with shame and quivering with desire as she is taken long and hard by two rugged highlanders at once. But can these hardened warriors keep her safe from the perils of a world far more dangerous than the one she left behind?

 

A Scandalous Arrangement

After a foolish wager costs her brother ownership of the weaving mill in Yorkshire which provides her income, Victoria Wynne is left with no choice but to confront the man who took the bet and seek to dissuade him from claiming his prize. Unfortunately for her, that man turns out to be Adam Luke, an experienced, ambitious entrepreneur who is intent on keeping what he won.

Upon meeting her, Adam is enchanted by Victoria’s beauty and charm as well as her nerve and self-reliance. Adam is a man of singular tastes, and when Victoria asks to manage the mill in return for a share of the profits, he offers her a bold proposal of his own. She will continue to run the mill as she has for years, but in return for a substantially larger portion of the profits she will also serve at his beck and call behind closed doors, submitting to him in any way he desires.

Wanting to earn enough money to buy back the mill as quickly as possible—and with some part of her shamefully aroused by the thought of kneeling naked at Adam’s feet—Victoria accepts his terms. But submission initially proves difficult for a woman used to running her own affairs, and soon enough she finds herself bare-bottomed over his knee for a firm lesson in obedience.

Adam’s plans for Victoria run much deeper than just an occasional spanking. She will be stripped naked, bound, and teased until she is aching for release, and then at last he will take her long and hard. As Adam continues to train her, teaching her to yield to his mastery while bringing her more pleasure than she ever thought possible, Victoria cannot help falling for him. But can a lifelong bond truly emerge from such a scandalous arrangement?

 

Her Noble Lords

After eighteen-year-old Linnet Routh is kidnapped from her home in Wellesworth castle by Ralf, the powerful, handsome Earl of Egremont, and his identical twin brother Piers, it quickly becomes clear to her that the seasoned warriors have mistaken her for someone else. Convinced that she is Lady Eleanor, a noblewoman who was promised in marriage to Ralf yet has refused to wed him, the brothers bring Linnet to a church with plans to compel her to speak her vows.

Linnet attempts to steal a horse from Piers and make her escape, but when she is caught her efforts end up earning her a thorough, humiliating bare-bottom spanking. Though terribly embarrassed by the manner of her chastisement, she cannot help becoming helplessly—and shamefully—aroused by the punishment.

When the brothers recognize the truth of Linnet’s claims at last, she expects to be cast aside as a mere commoner. To her surprise, however, they instead offer to make her their shared bride, and despite her misgivings about the idea Linnet agrees to the union. As they each take their turn to claim her, the pleasure of their dominant lovemaking leaves her yearning to be taken long and hard by both of them at once, and soon a passionate romance has grown between Linnet and her noble lords. But when tragedy strikes will it bring a permanent end to their newfound happiness?

 

The Highwayman’s Lady

After the death of her mother, twenty-year-old Imogen Bennett faces the prospect of being coerced into marriage by a scheming relative, but fate intervenes when a masked highwayman accosts her on the road. Desperate to escape the unwanted wedding, Imogen pleads with the mysterious, handsome rogue to rescue her.

Alistair Graham is a proud Scotsman who rebelled against British rule, and since the defeat of the highlanders at Culloden he has taken to robbing rich Englishmen travelling through Scottish lands. He is no gentleman, but he is certainly not a man who would ignore a young woman’s pleas for help, and he agrees to do what he can to assist the beautiful girl he has waylaid.

Though Alistair warns her that he expects a woman’s complete obedience both in bed and out of it, Imogen cannot help being drawn to him, and she soon finds herself longing for him to take her hard and thoroughly. When he claims her, Alistair’s mastery of her virgin body leaves Imogen utterly spent yet still aching for more, but after her shock at her own wantonness leads her to speak disrespectfully to him he bares her bottom and punishes her soundly.

A highwayman is no suitable match for a lady, however, and Alistair fears that her association with him can only put them both in danger, so he makes her promise that she’ll tell no one about what took place between them and then ensures that she is delivered safely to the home of her honourable cousin in Kirkleven. Yet despite her best efforts to put Alistair out of her mind forever, in her heart Imogen knows she will always belong to the man who rescued her, mastered her, and made her his. But will her highwayman ever return to reclaim his lady?

 

Hardened

Despite the fact that he is doing time for armed robbery, Molly MacBride is drawn to Jared North almost from the moment she sets eyes on him. Even behind bars his confidence and dominance are undeniable, and soon enough she is willingly baring her bottom and placing herself across his strong thighs, surrendering to both firm punishment and intense pleasure.

When all hell breaks loose during a prison riot, it is Jared who saves Molly’s life, but she is so shaken by the incident that she quits her job and does her best to put him out of her mind. As the years pass, however, Jared never relinquishes his place in her heart—or her fantasies—and when she learns that he has been released on parole Molly cannot resist seeking him out.

Through a combination of hard work and natural talent, Jared has forged a career for himself as a world-renowned photographer, yet in spite of his newfound sophistication and wealth he is no less dominant than he was when she first met him. It isn’t long before Molly finds herself submitting to both his stern discipline and his masterful lovemaking, but can she truly risk falling for a man whose criminal past could come back to haunt them both at any moment?

 

Her Alien Commander

After leaving Earth on what she thought would be an adventure, Caria Montgomery quickly ends up in way over her head. Captured by hostile aliens, she faces the prospect of perishing on an isolated planet until she is rescued by Commander Phahlen Verdar and his crew.

Phahlen is delighted to have a human female aboard his ship. In the years since the women of his own world were nearly wiped out by a terrible plague, taking a mate has become all but impossible for most males of his species, and he doesn’t plan to let this opportunity pass him by. His plan to claim Caria is aided by the fact that, due to the unsavoury nature of the crew of the ship on which she was travelling, she is now a wanted fugitive back on Earth.

Though Caria is initially defiant, a sound spanking on her bare bottom demonstrates her admittedly handsome future mate’s resolve. His bold dominance awakens an intense need within her, and before long she finds herself yearning for the pleasure of his masterful lovemaking. But is she truly prepared to surrender herself fully to her alien commander, or will she seek to return to Earth and clear her name as soon as possible?

 

The Laird and the Sassenach

After her half-brother attacks the kinsmen of Blair McGregor, Lady Roselyn of Etal is brought before the stern highland laird to answer for her reluctant, unwitting role in the crime. Once she has told her story, she throws herself at his mercy.

Blair soon realizes that Roselyn is as much a victim of her half-brother as anyone, but his people’s demands for justice cannot be ignored entirely, so he strips the young Englishwoman bare and chastises her firmly with a switch applied to her naked backside.

The painful, humiliating punishment both assuages Roselyn’s guilt and leaves her yearning to be even more thoroughly mastered by the handsome laird. Though Blair makes it clear that she is free to return home, she instead chooses to remain with the him in his castle… and in his bed. Their passion soon blossoms into romance, but can the highlander protect his beautiful Sassenach when the villain who caused them both so much pain tries to tear her away from him?

 

Theirs: Found and Claimed

When they board a derelict spacecraft in search of valuable scrap metal, the last thing Luca and Sylvan expect is to stumble upon a beautiful, naked woman in need of medical assistance. Despite her protests, they bring her back to their ship, treat her illness, and take it upon themselves to look after her.

After she contracted the virus that wiped out her people and killed everyone else on her ship, Llianna didn’t expect to survive, and she is shocked when she awakens from a comatose state with two men standing over her. Once she regains her health, however, she is horrified to realize that she is about to enter her fertile period, a uniquely vulnerable time for females of her species.

Knowing that she will end up begging Luca and Sylvan to take her in any way they please if she doesn’t act quickly, she flees in her partially-repaired ship, only to be caught, stripped bare, and spanked soundly. The stern punishment leaves her desire burning even more fiercely, and soon she is writhing in ecstasy as her handsome rescuers claim her hard and thoroughly.

Though Luca and Sylvan make it clear that she is free to go once her ship is finally fully operational again, Llianna finds herself yearning to belong to them completely, and as she learns to submit to their firm, loving dominance, her passion for them grows more intense with each passing day. But when she discovers that she is not the last of her kind after all, will she leave the men she loves to live amongst her own people?

 

Her Rogue Viking

Though Fiona puts up a brave fight when her village is raided by Vikings, she ends up being carried off over the broad shoulders of Ulfric Freysson, the leader of the Norsemen. The stern, ruggedly handsome warrior quickly makes it clear that she belongs to him now, and her best efforts to escape merely earn Fiona a painful, humiliating switching on her bare bottom.

Her captor’s bold dominance sets Fiona’s passion ablaze, and when he brings her to his bed she cannot help begging for him to claim her completely. As Ulfric begins training her to please him in any way he demands, Fiona finds herself falling in love with her new master, but she soon realizes that there are those among his people who still see her as an enemy. When her life is threatened by a member of his own family, will he stand ready to protect her no matter the cost?

 

Her Dark Viking

After she is captured by Viking raiders, twenty-five-year-old Mairead is left with no choice but to depend on Gunnar Freysson, the battle-hardened leader of the Norsemen, to protect her and her young children. Though he makes it clear that she is his property to do with as he pleases, Gunnar shows remarkable concern for Mairead’s wellbeing, and when she risks her life in a dangerous attempt at escape he does not hesitate to strip her bare and spank her soundly.

The strict punishment leaves Mairead thoroughly ashamed yet helplessly aroused, and when Gunnar takes her in his arms and claims her properly she cannot deny her body’s response to his dominant lovemaking. As the days pass, Mairead realizes that Gunnar cares for her deeply, and despite her situation she finds herself falling in love with the stern, handsome warrior. But can she truly give her heart to the man who took her from her home?

 

Her Celtic Captor

As the sister of a powerful Viking chief, Brynhild Freysson is used to giving orders and having them obeyed, which makes it all the more difficult to accept when she suddenly finds herself at the mercy of a Celtic warrior intent on bringing her back to his village whether she likes it or not.

Taranc was a leader of his people before he was taken captive by Viking raiders, and now that he is a free man once more he has no intention of allowing a headstrong Norse woman to slow down his journey home with her stubborn disobedience. When Brynhild refuses to do as she is told, he wastes no time in baring her bottom for a thorough switching, and he makes it quite clear that she can expect even more painful and humiliating punishments if she continues to defy him.

Though her hatred of the Celts runs deep, Taranc’s stern dominance awakens desires in Brynhild that she thought she would never feel again, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her properly it is more pleasurable than she would have thought possible. But though her passion for him grows by the day, can she ever truly love a man whose people are enemies of her own?

 

Held in Custody

When he encounters an injured young woman while on a motorcycle ride on the small Scottish island of North Uist, police officer Finn Olsen immediately comes to her aid, but to his surprise her dialect proves all but incomprehensible to him. To make matters worse, she first tries to run and then does her best to stab him with a dagger after he catches her.

Recognizing that the woman is confused and distraught, Finn disarms her, handcuffs her, and brings her back to the local police station, which doubles as his home. Once she is in his custody, however, it quickly becomes clear that his beautiful, feisty prisoner comes from a very different era, and that she has somehow travelled forward in time more than a thousand years.

Finn takes it upon himself to keep the headstrong girl safe in a completely unfamiliar world, even going so far as to bare her bottom for a sound spanking with his belt when she attempts an escape. Despite her situation, she is deeply aroused by his bold dominance, and when he claims her properly she is left utterly spent and satisfied. But as they unravel the mystery of her arrival in the twenty-first century, will their discoveries bring an end to their newfound romance?

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