Chapter Eight
A spanking? Seth couldn’t be serious. How dare he patronize her like that? Like she was an insolent child.
Yet, at the same time, the thought wasn’t unappealing. In fact, a warm pool of moisture had gathered between Heather’s legs and her heart pounded loudly against her ribcage. Her sudden increase in desire had her tongue-tied and shaking.
“Bend over the table.”
Seth’s rough command didn’t irk her as it should have. Instead, she found herself moving to the round dining area as if under a trance, and bending over with her rump in the air.
“That’s my girl.” She gasped as she felt his warm touch on the back of her bare thighs. His hands snaked up her legs under the hem of her short robe until they cupped the cheeks of her behind. “Stretch your arms out and grab the other side of the table.”
She did as he said, her robe pulling up farther as she stretched her body across the table. His fingers curled under the band of her bikini panties and pulled them down. Then he flung the bottom of her robe up around her waist so that she was completely exposed.
He inhaled on a hiss, running his strong hands over her bare skin. “Fuck, Heather, your ass is gorgeous. I could spend hours with you in this position alone.”
Her stomach twisted in excitement.
Then she panicked.
Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, her hands felt clammy as they gripped the table. She barely knew the man who had her in this very vulnerable position. Though he really hadn’t taken advantage of her while she’d been drunk, that didn’t mean he couldn’t now. What would he do to her if she let him? And could she even stop him if she wanted to?
“Seth…” she called out to him, not knowing how to express her sudden anxiety. She hated this feeling of uncertainty. Especially when it was mixed with piercing pangs of yearning. She was a mess—bewildered and out-of-control. She didn’t know what to do to make it go away, how to calm down. All she knew was that she didn’t want Seth to stop.
As if reading the volumes she spoke in the single utterance of his name, he assured her with a husky voice. “I’m going to give you what you need. Let go and give in. Trust me, princess.”
That was all she needed. Permission.
She sighed and rested her head down on the table in front of her, allowing herself to relax under his strong hands as they massaged her cheeks. She did trust him. Incredibly, insanely—stupidly, perhaps—she trusted him implicitly. Even more, she wanted whatever he planned to give her. Suspected he might fulfill her in ways that she’d never been fulfilled before.
The first strike came without warning. She let out a cry as the palm of his hand smacked across her tender skin, her eyes blurring from the pain. Immediately, he followed by gently kneading the area until the burn turned into overwhelming pleasure. Oh God, the contrast—the sting then the soothing touch that came after. Like sweet and sour all at once. Like soaking in a steamy hot tub in ice cold weather. Like nothing she’d ever experienced. The sensation was incredible.
And incredibly hot. She was drenched with desire.
He struck a second time, on the opposite cheek, and this time as he rubbed away the pain, she moaned. He repeated the pattern, striking and kneading, burning then soothing her until her knees were so weak that she wouldn’t have been able to stand without the support of the table under her.
“That’s enough, I think,” he said after the sixth strike, and she bit back the urge to cry out again in both relief and disappointment. His hands continued to caress away the last of the sting, leaving no spot on her backside untouched. She’d never been touched like that—with such force and care all at the same time.
Her body had completely relaxed when one of Seth’s hands journeyed lower, past the curve of her behind to the slick opening between her thighs. He groaned. “I think you liked that almost as much as I did. You’re dripping wet.” He slipped his fingers through her folds to the taut bud of nerves hidden within. Applying perfect pressure, he circled the spot with his thumb, teasing her to the brink of orgasm. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
She could barely concentrate. “What?” She had no idea what anything meant anymore. All she knew was an intense ache of need. A need that only Seth could fill.
“You have to make a decision now.” He continued to massage her nub and she bucked her body against his hand, wanting more, more, more. The light in the trailer seemed dimmer. She was close, so close.
“Do you want me to go?” Seth asked. “Or do you want me to stay? If I stay, I’ll fuck you, and you’ll remember it. You have to decide.”
She’d have to decide? She felt like she’d already conceded all her power to the man behind her, and now he was saying the decision was hers? A tiny voice in the back of her brain reminded her that letting him stay would erase all the distance she’d put between her and her past.
But the hum of her body, still singing from his hands on her behind and so on the verge of climax, drowned out the sound of resistance.
It also made speaking impossible.
“Heather, I’ll give you whichever you want but you have to tell me. Go or stay?”
“I…I…” Why couldn’t she just say it? Yes, she was distracted with pleasure. But also, he had been right—she was maddeningly stubborn. Not even allowing herself to give into what she so desired.
“If you can’t say it, I can’t stay.” Seth pulled away, the sudden departure of his hands leaving her pussy throbbing.
“Don’t go!” It was a desperate cry, a sound she didn’t even recognize as her own.
Seth returned to his position over her, his hand finding its way back to her core. He pressed himself against her back, covering her body with his, the hard length of his cock digging into her hip. His breath, hot at her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. “What is it you want, Heather? Ask me.”
“I want you to fuck me.” She said it. The words tumbled out of her mouth as though they could no longer be contained inside her, and with them came her climax crashing through her with acute ferocity.
“You have no idea what hearing you say that does to me.”
While she trembled through the remainder of her orgasm, she heard his zipper then the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being torn. He had a fucking condom. Thank the fucking Lord.
She was still inwardly praising the miraculous invention of prophylactics and that Seth had one with him when he plunged inside her. “Oh God!” she screamed. Jesus, was the man hung or what? Because she hadn’t yet gotten a peek at the goods, but damn, did he fill her. Filled her so full, she felt like all her nerve endings would combust from the simultaneous pressure.
And that was only on the first thrust.
He pulled out, almost to the tip, and she thought she might die from the loss of him. Then he plunged in again.
“Fuck, Heather,” he groaned and she was right there with him, lost in the amazingness of sensation.
He picked up his tempo, moving in and out with deep thrusts, their thighs slapping together as he rocked into her, the table jabbing into her legs with a surprisingly pleasing bite. And still she wanted him deeper. She lifted onto her tiptoes to meet his thrusts and that did the trick. Before she knew it, she was on the verge of a second orgasm. This one came on slower, but held as much strength. It rolled through her in big, wide waves, weakening her with pleasure.
As she seized with delight, Seth found his own release. He let out a near-feral grunt as he shoved into her, his fingers digging into her hips.
“Ah, Heather, that was…incredible. You were incredible.” He bent over her and kissed the back of her head. Then he pulled out and she heard him dispose the condom, then zip up his jeans while she still lay limp and boneless across the table. Little by little, her vision cleared and her heartbeat settled and sense began to return. With its return came something else—a dark feeling that she couldn’t name. Shame? Regret? Fear? It left her cold, despite the flush in her skin.
Standing, she kicked her panties off her ankles and pulled down her robe. Though she wouldn’t look at him directly, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Seth had returned to leaning against the counter. She could hear his breathing as it calmed to a normal rate.
“Let me clean you up,” he offered.
It was a nice gesture, but she was too cold for niceties. She just wanted to be alone so she could sort out her emotions. “No, that’s okay. I’m taking a shower.” Her tone was hard and guarded. Purposefully.
“Hey, Heather.” Seth reached out, pulling her to him. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged out of his arms and moved out of his reach. “Of course I am.”
“Are you sure?”
“I said I’m fine.” She wasn’t though. Not at all. Spankings and rough sex, and she’d liked them both. That was enough to confound her, but then add that it was with a guy that she’d never meant to get mixed up with. What did that make her? A whore? A hypocrite? Kink was fine and all, but with Seth… She couldn’t even be seen with him. He was blue-collar. He was not the kind of guy she planned to be with. Above it all, her father’s accusations ran through her head twisting and morphing until it was her own voice. You’re trash. Nothing but trash. All you’ll ever be is trash.
Heather could feel Seth’s eyes on her as she gathered her panties and put them in her laundry basket. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but at the same time was glad she didn’t.
“Ah,” he said finally. “I see.”
“What?” She spun to face him, her hands planted on her hips so he couldn’t see them shaking. “What do you see? What? There is nothing to see so what could possibly make you say you see anything at all? Nothing. That’s what. Nothing at all.”
“Uh huh.”
As if he understood. How could he possibly when she didn’t? “What? Just say whatever it is you want to say.” She folded her arms across her chest and waited.
“Just the minute you had enough blood in the brain to remember yourself, you put yourself back out of reach.”
“Whatever.” She was being a total bitch, but she didn’t know how else to be right then. She just wanted the cold, dark feelings to end, and as much as she wondered if they’d stop if she let herself fall into Seth’s arms, she was too scared to find out.
“See. Look at yourself. Even your body language says you’re closed off. Which is insane because I gave you the chance to kick me out. You didn’t. It would make sense if I had hurt you …” His face screwed up in concern. “Did I hurt you, Heather?”
“No.” Well, the spanking had burned, but it also felt really good.
“Did it bother you that I spanked you?”
She hesitated. “No.” It bothered her that she liked it. Bothered her a lot.
“Did you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“But now you want me to go.”
She swallowed then looked up to meet his eyes. She didn’t want him to go, not really. But she was maddeningly stubborn. “Yes,” she said. “I want you to go.”
“Typical.” He let out a brief laugh of frustration. “Fine. As you so command, princess.” He bent his body in a mock bow, opened the trailer door and left.
With his departure, the cold, dark feeling grew worse. The tears that streamed down her cheeks felt like ice. Even after several long minutes under a hot shower, she shivered uncontrollably and wondered if she’d ever feel warmth again.
By the time Heather dragged herself out of her shower and wrapped a towel around her wet body, Lexie was waiting for her on the trailer’s double bed, her feet curled underneath her as she played Angry Birds on her smartphone.
“I was beginning to think you’d never come out,” Lexie said, closing her phone before she stashed it in her purse. “You must be all pruney by…hey!” She jumped up at the sight of Heather and put a hand on each of her upper arms. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Heather was not in the mood to talk about what happened with Seth. Or maybe she was, but she seriously suspected she’d overreacted, and talking about it sounded like a whole lot of embarrassing.
“Bullshit. You’ve been crying.”
“I’ve been in the shower, how could you know that?” Her assistant had some sort of eerie sixth sense. With a sigh, Heather realized if she didn’t fess up, Lexie would drag it out of her. “Yes, I’ve been crying.”
Lexie rubbed Heather’s arms, a comforting gesture. “Why?”
“Seth. The carpenter.” Goose bumps formed on Heather’s skin and she didn’t know if it was from the chill after the hot shower or if it was from talking about Seth. Maybe she should throw some clothes on. She headed to the closet, saying over her shoulder, “We had sex.”
“And you might be pregnant. I know.”
Heather found the sweats and T-shirt she’d worn to the set that morning on hangers in her closet. A costume assistant must have hung them for her because she’d left them on a pile in the closet floor. It was amazing how nice people were to her. She certainly didn’t deserve it.
Pulling her clothes off the hangers, she turned back toward Lexie. It had seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d been concerned about being pregnant, and Lexie still had no idea it was a false alarm. “No, actually, we didn’t have sex at the hotel like I thought. So woo hoo! I’m not pregnant.”
“Woo hoo!” Lexie raised her fist triumphantly.
Heather dropped her towel and, not bothering with panties, stepped into her sweats. “But he’s working on the set. Weird, right?” She brushed past Lexie to the bathroom to find her discarded bra, saying as she did, “And we had sex today. With a condom, don’t worry.”
“Then why were you crying? Was he mean? Did he hurt you?”
Heather stood in the doorway, threading her arms through her bra straps then hooked the latch in the back. “He didn’t hurt me. He…uh…he spanked me. But it was, you know…”
“Just part of the fun, I get it. Go on.”
Heather had to work to keep her jaw from dropping. She’d expected Lexie to be shocked at the spanking bit, not excitedly clinging on to every word. “Um, well, after that we had sex.” She waited to continue until after she pulled the T-shirt over her head. “And then I kind of got bitchy and told him to leave.”
“Hmm.” Lexie tapped her chin with her finger, staring at Heather with that expression that said she knew there was more to the story.
Heather hated that expression. She also hated what Lexie was going to say next without even knowing what it was. It would probably be something wise. Or something analytical.
Sure enough, after a few seconds Lexie asked, “Why do you think you did that?”
Heather groaned. This was the other reason she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Because there would be all this emotional dissection, digging to the heart of the matter crap. She spent enough time trying to understand the characters she played. Did she really have to figure out herself too?
She stepped past Lexie again and threw herself on the bed.
Lexie followed, stretching out beside her. “Talk to me. You’ll feel better.”
Twisting so she was facing Lexie, Heather propped her head up on her hand. “It was just weird. I don’t know. The spanking and he was kind of bossy and stuff.”
“So he’s dominant. Did you not like it?”
“Actually, I really did.” She stifled a giggle, her cheeks flushing with the admission.
“Heather!” Lexie’s eyes widened with surprise. “Have you never gotten kinky before?”
The answer to that question was a definite no. The kinkiest she’d ever gotten was using a vibrator—with and without a boyfriend. Other than that, she was vanilla all the way. It wasn’t because Heather had necessarily been opposed to kink. She’d just never had the opportunity. Despite how she’d been with Seth, she made most men work to get with her. Even after they worked, they usually didn’t get the reward.
And the men that she did finally invite into her bed didn’t handle her as Seth had. “Most guys I’m with treat me like I’m…” She searched for the word, cringing when she realized what it was. “Like I’m a princess. Delicately. Like I’m precious, or whatever.”
“You’ve never played it rough?” When Heather shook her head, Lexie sat up and slammed her hand down on the bed. “Heather! You’re thirty-three years old!”
“Twenty-nine.”
“I know your real age, you bitch. Don’t forget I fill out all your medical forms. I can’t believe you’re thirty-three years old and you’ve never had rough sex!”
“I haven’t. Well, I hadn’t.” Was that really unusual? She thought back over her exploits, searching for any clue that any of them had wanted to go into the kink territory. The truth was that even if they had, she would never know. She was always the one calling the shots. “I guess I’ve always been particular. And kind of bossy. And maybe not very experimental.”
“Then, honey, you’ve been missing out.” Almost a full ten years younger than Heather, Lexie seemed to know what she was talking about. “Or maybe you haven’t, if it wasn’t your thing.”
“That’s just it.” Heather sat up and wrapped her knees to her chest. “I think it was my thing. I think it is my thing. But I don’t want it to be my thing. And I don’t want Seth to be my guy.” Damn, she sounded whiney. She’d just always thought she’d end up with a rich businessman or producer type. A guy like Patrick at Montblanc.
But maybe that wasn’t really who she wanted to be with since Patrick, handsome as he was, didn’t turn her on in the least. Still, she wasn’t ready to say that Seth was the guy for her.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It reminds you too much of where you came from.” Lexie sat back on her knees. “But why? Did you know a trailer park carpenter that rubbed you the wrong way? Did you walk in on your parents spanking each other and now you’re forever traumatized?”
“God, no! I never saw my parents do…anything.” She shivered with the grossness of the idea. “And spanking…it just seems so…trashy.”
“What did you say?”
“Spanking seems trashy.”
“Are you kidding me?” Lexie fixed her with a pissed-off glare. “Heather, I try to put up with your ridiculousness, not just because you’re my employer, but you’re my friend. But this…” She pointed abstractly to the air, as if the words Heather had said still hung there waiting to be exemplified. “This blatant show of ignorance on your part? That’s what I call white-trash. Spanking, playing rough, kinky sex—none of it is bad. Or wrong. Or trashy. It’s fun and sexy, even natural, if the participants are consensual. You’d be surprised the people who partake in it. People from all walks of life. Not just sweaty carpenters and people on a fixed-income. Believe me when I say this association you have with it is one hundred percent wrong.”
Heather leaned back, startled by Lexie’s outburst. “Whoa. I had no idea you’d take it so personal.”
“I’m sorry if it hurts your feelers,” Lexie said, not sounding the least bit sorry. “But I can’t sit by and listen to you bullshit about something you seem to have very little insight on.”
“Okay, okay.” Heather put her hands up as if to surrender. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. Obviously.”
“Thank you for admitting it.” Lexie’s shoulders relaxed. “I can point you to some good websites if you’re willing to educate yourself.”
“Fine.” Who knew Lexie was an expert in kink? It sort of made Heather uncomfortable, so she changed the subject. “And I don’t have anything against carpenters. I just always planned on being with a guy who was…better than that. A guy who could take care of me. That I’d be proud to be seen with.” Did she really just say that? She really did. She braced herself for another admonishment from Lexie.
But Lexie’s expression held more bewilderment than irritation. As if she’d just grasped something she’d never thought could possibly be true. “For someone from the wrong side of the tracks,” she said, “you’re a real snob.”
“I am. I hate that about myself.”
Lexie sat forward so her head was leaning on Heather’s knees. “Well, I love you no matter what. You know that, right?” Heather nodded. “But it sounds like you might be happier if you try to put the whole status thing behind you and try to enjoy being with a guy who gives you what you like.”
“I hear what you’re saying, and I want to. I do.” She choked back a fresh sob. “But I’ve already fucked it up with Seth. Big time.” Stupid tear slipped down her cheek anyway.
Lexie wiped at Heather’s tear. “Really? You can’t know that.”
That was certainly true. Seth hadn’t given her any indication that he was easy to scare off. In fact, she’d been nothing but a bitch to him since she met him and he kept on returning.
But there was still the issue of how he made her feel—all good and fucked up at the same time. “Even if he did give me another shot, I don’t know if I’d handle it any differently.”
“But you could try.” Lexie and her unswerving faith. Why couldn’t Heather believe in herself the way her friend did? She wasn’t naïve enough to not realize it might have something to do with her being Lexie’s employer. Still, Heather bet that even if she stopped paying her assistant, Lexie would continue to be on her side.
And friendship or not, paid assistant or not, maybe Lexie’s words could still be true. Heather thought about not seeing Seth again, thought about leaving things as they were. She’d be fine like she always had been.
But then she thought about not keeping the status quo, thought about dumping her preconceived notions and her silly plans—plans that really only involved her being as far from where she grew up as possible. A plan she’d already more than achieved.
And did having Seth in her life change that fact? No. It did not. The only thing Seth threatened to do to her life was make it more exciting. More fulfilling. Both of which would be welcome characteristics.
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Yes. I could try,” she said. She would try to work things out with Seth. He might be more forgiving than she realized.
But it was a good thing the shoot had just begun. Because apologizing to Seth? She might need a few days to get up her courage.