Spanking Her Curves 1-4

 

 

 

Bella Jacobs hesitated only a moment before changing her status from “In a Relationship” to “Single.” Her hesitation had nothing to do with how she felt about Mark, and everything to do with the questions she knew were going flood her inbox and phone.

As soon as she changed it, she immediately logged out and closed her laptop. It was less than ten minutes before her sister called. She didn’t answer. Bella wasn’t ready to talk to her about it yet, to Nicole with her perfect life. Nicole would never, could never understand what it was like for Bella, not really. Nicole was pretty, petite and perfect. She had a perfect husband, perfect kids and a perfect house. She didn’t know anything about being overweight, single, and almost thirty.

After staring at the once again silent phone, Bella sighed, got up off the couch, and went into the kitchen. Romeo, the plump tabby that Bella had adopted from the shelter a couple years before, followed her as he always did.

Romeo meowed his charming meow and planted himself by his food bowl. He knew her moods and knew that when she was upset, she made herself indulgent comfort foods. And when she indulged herself, she indulged him as well. Romeo rubbed against her leg purring, waiting for the food that didn’t come.

This evening Bella just leaned against the counter and sighed. Mark, like too many guys she had dated, had been a world-class jerk beneath a thin veneer of niceness. Sure, he had been good-looking, but he was also vain, and it didn’t take long before he began preying upon her doubts of self-worth to make himself feel better. The final straw was when he had the nerve to say to her, “I don’t care what my friends say, I like fat girls”. Looking back at it now, she knew that she had stayed with him too long.

Bella finally obeyed Romeo’s meowing when the meowing turned from charming to imperative. She got some cheese out of the refrigerator to crumble into his bowl.

“I’m not fat. Not really…” she said to Romeo knowing that he would agree.

Bella knew that she wasn’t anyone’s definition of skinny and never had been. She loved food too much. She was definitely full-figured, but Mark had made it sound like she was morbidly obese. He was definitely a jerk.

‘And didn’t his face look shocked when I told him to get out,’ she thought with a smile. ‘A pretty guy like him certainly wasn’t used to fat girls like me doing the dumping.’

What had upset her was that she had known he was a jerk, and had known she was going to break up with him. She just couldn’t get herself to do it before it hurt. Hearing the word ‘fat’ hurt. Knowing that she had been forced into being alone again, hurt. Knowing that, once again, she’d been a fool to believe some guy’s lies, hurt.

Romeo finished the cheese and again rubbed against her legs pulling her out of her thoughts. Bella scooped him up and cuddled him to her ample bosom. She rubbed her cheek against his head as he rubbed his head against her cheek in return.

“But you love me, don’t you, Romeo?” she asked listening to his relaxed purring. “You don’t care how much I weigh or what size dress I wear, do you?”

“Meow,” Romeo answered.

“You’re the last of the good men,” she decided never wanting to let him go.

Bella looked up when the phone rang again. Crossing the room to see who it was it took only a second for her to decide to answer it. Dylan Cole had been her friend since high school. They had been in many of the same classes freshman year, and like every other girl in school she couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous he was. When so many boys were gangly and awkward, he was already tall and lean. He had dark curly hair and bright blue eyes. All the girls fawned over him, including her sister Nicole, who was already a junior.

Bella had been utterly surprised when he had started joking with her in homeroom and then sitting with her during lunch. It turned out that they liked many of the same books, movies, and music so their friendship came easily and naturally. Of course, harboring a secret crush on him for years, she did have to bury her bitter jealousy as he dated one perky cheerleader after another. But what made it a lot easier was that those girls came and went, while their friendship only deepened.

“Hi, Dylan,” she said cradling both Romeo and the phone. “If you say one word about Mark, I’ll hang up.”

“I have nothing to say on the subject,” he reassured her. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Taking a bath and going to bed.”

“Sounds great. On my way.”

Bella giggled in the way that only Dylan could make her. “Yeah, right. You can make sure I don’t miss any spots.”

“You know it, gorgeous.” He paused. “Seriously, I’m at the video store; I already picked up a couple bottles of wine. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Dylan…” Bella allowed the wiggling Romeo to escape from her arms and then crossed into the living room. “Dylan, I really don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Talking about what? I’m bringing over a movie or two and we’re going to have some wine. Maybe I’ll be able to convince you to make me some of your famous mac-and-cheese?” He paused again. “Look, pretty lady, I don’t know about you but I had kind of a crappy day and I’d like to just chill for a while with my best friend. If you really don’t want me to come over, I guess I could go home.”

Bella looked at the framed photo of Dylan and herself by the television. It was taken a few summers before at a Renaissance Faire. He’d convinced her to dress up, and although she’d been uncomfortable at first, it wasn’t long before she was relaxed and having fun. It was always fun with him, and their smiles in the picture were proof.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll even make dinner. What movies are you getting?”

“I don’t know, something stupid with lots of explosions, probably.”

He knew her so well. After yet another break up, the last thing she wanted to see was a movie with even a hint of romance.

“Sounds good. See you soon.”

Bella set a pot of water to boil and then exited to change into her pajamas. ‘Another nice thing about Dylan,’ she thought as she undressed, ‘I don’t have to worry about dressing up in uncomfortable clothes, pretending to be someone I’m not whenever he comes over. He’s seen me at my worst and accepts me just as I am.’

Bella opened the drawer and instinctually reached for her break-up uniform. The ancient sweatpants and ratty tee-shirt was almost a dress code in times like this. But something told her not to. Allowing her hand to drift to it without thought she instead fingered her rose-colored silk lounge set. She had gotten it just in case someone special had ever deserved to see her in it; nobody ever had.

Tonight, though, was the night. Bella slipped into the lounge set adding the fuzzy slippers Dylan had gotten her last Christmas. Quickly checking out herself in the mirror, she returned to the kitchen to start the mac-n-cheese. As a chef, this was, by no means, the most extravagant thing that she could make, but it was Dylan’s favorite. Although Bella didn’t cook for just anyone in her personal life, she always considered cooking for Dylan as something special.

Dylan kissed her hello on the cheek as he usually did, then stopped, took a step back and gave her a wolf-whistle. “Nice jammies,” he said.

She smiled and waved him off. “What movies did you get?”

“Something absolutely terrible called Revenge Served Cold and its even worse sequel, amusingly entitled Revenge Served Warm.” He tossed the bag from the video store onto the couch and followed her into the kitchen with the bottles of wine. “I saw the first one on cable a few weeks ago. It was so bad I swear it must have been a money-laundering scheme.”

As Dylan walked behind her he was unable to take his eyes off of Bella. The way the dusky pink silk caressed her sensuous curves was an entirely unexpected, but not at all unwelcome, surprise. He found himself nearly envying the fabric. “Quite possibly the worst movie ever made,” he continued distracted.

“And you chose to share it with me,” Bella said, turning to take the bottles from him. “I’m so flattered.”

Dylan managed a smile. “You know there’s no one I’d rather share horrible movies with, gorgeous.”

She laughed lightly and nodded toward the table. “Food’s almost ready. Do you want to eat first, or watch while we eat?”

“We should eat first,” he said. “I can’t promise you’d be able to keep anything down if we try to eat during.”

Dylan admired her as she laughed then turned away to sit. Turning his gaze back toward her, he watched as she glided around the kitchen. Lost in her work, she seemed to ignore him completely.

Dylan continued to admire her every movement. Her hair was still up from her shift at work, so no matter how she turned he could see her face. As she always did when she cooked she seemed to achieve a sort of transcendental state. He had seen it many times. It was more than just her facial expression, there was something more about her that made her look beautiful. Here was a woman in the simple bliss of living her passion. It made Dylan aroused just thinking about it.

Dylan thought back to the first time he saw such a look on her face. Their sophomore year of high school she’d taken a Food and Nutrition class and he had once cut gym to see her. It was then that he saw it. Hers was a look of bliss that made him as certain as she was that the only proper career for her was in culinary arts.

Bella wasn’t a fat girl who would eat anything in sight. She was a curvy woman who loved good food. The only problem with her, as far as he could tell, was she simply had no idea how amazing she was. He’d been telling her for years, but she didn’t believe him. It was like his opinion didn’t matter to her. It drove him crazy. More than once he’d resorted to drastic measures. When that also didn’t work, he had turned it into a game.

 

The first time he had been over to Bella’s house was junior year when she had been testing out a dessert recipe for her Advanced Foods class. Things hadn’t been going well in the kitchen. She had gotten frustrated and had turned to him proclaiming that she would just buy whipped cream instead of trying to make it herself.

“Oh, no you won’t,” he’d told her. “If you cheat, I’ll make you sorry.”

She had flapped a hand at him dismissively as she passed by him to get her purse. “Sure, sure. What are you going to do, spank me?”

He took hold of her arm to stop her. “That’s exactly what I’ll do,” he said.

She had looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“If you think so, go ahead and take another step,” he challenged. Dylan’s initial intent had been more to keep her from compromising her work by giving up when things got difficult. He knew she could do it, and only needed the encouragement to try again. But at the mention of spanking her, the idea had made him unexpectedly excited. He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew it wouldn’t hurt her. But he thought that it might let her know that he was serious about keeping her from giving up on herself.

Bella held his gaze, bit her lower lip, then, with slow deliberation, took another step forward.

“I warned you,” Dylan said before drawing his other hand back and delivering a solid whack across her rump.

Bella gasped as pink flooded her plump face and her eyes widened in her shock. “Dylan!”

“Now you can either go give it another try, or you can find out just how serious I am about not letting you give up and cheat. What’s it going to be?”

Dylan had almost hoped she would test him. Instead, she dropped her gaze and turned back, her cheeks still pink as she again picked up her whisk.

After that moment, his playful acts of punishment had become something they both looked forward to, although neither would admit to the other just how much. More often than not, Bella would deliberately test Dylan. She would saucily turn and half-bent, she would smirk at him over her shoulder, wordlessly daring him. Every time she did, he would oblige, usually with three quick swats across her round ass that would leave her giggling and blushing.

As time progressed, there were times when it wasn’t so playful. When one of Dylan’s friends asked Bella to the Senior Prom, she was certain she that she had only been asked as a favor to Dylan. She didn’t want to go; she didn’t want to bother shopping for a dress; and most of all, she didn’t want to have to tell Dylan’s friend ‘thanks, but no thanks’.

When Dylan finally asked her why she was delaying, she had avoided his gaze and muttered, “No one wants to see a fat girl ruin prom, Dylan.”

Dylan looked back at Bella amazed that she would say that about herself. Both he and his friends had noticed how she had gotten taller, and was no longer the chubby girl from freshman year. It hadn’t been Dylan’s idea for his friend to ask her to prom, but Dylan was certainly looking forward to seeing her dressed up and stealing her for a dance or two. The truth was that his buddy had been talking about asking her to prom for months. If it wasn’t for that, he might have asked her himself just to make sure that she was there.

“The only way you could ruin it is if you don’t go,” Dylan had told her. “You aren’t fat, Annie.”

He was the only one who ever called her that. Her nickname came from the musical that they had seen together. She, like the character, too often displayed a fierce optimism as a façade to hide her insecurity and low self-esteem. Like the spanking, it was something that only they shared. It made them feel closer to each other and that was something they both wanted.

“You have to be nice to me because you’re my friend,” she had continued, still not looking at him. “I know what I look like, and I know I’d look ridiculous in one of those dresses. Forget it.”

“I think the problem is you don’t know what you look like,” Dylan had countered. “You’re pretty and not everyone thinks a girl needs to be scarecrow-skinny.”

Bella had finally looked at him. The girl he had been dating, the girl he would certainly be taking to the prom, was one of those “scarecrow-skinny” types, just like all the others he’d dated through high school.

Although she still, deep down, had those same feelings for him she’d had since freshman year, she rarely let herself think about them anymore. Their friendship had become such a deep and close one, so important to her, that the contradictions between the girls he dated and the way he chastised her for criticizing her own appearance barely even registered. But now she just couldn’t bear the thought of having to see him spending the evening looking so fine with some perfect, petite, perky girl all over him.

“I’m not going. He can ask some other fat girl.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he had told her. “You’re gonna buy a dress. You’re gonna look beautiful, have a wonderful time, and later you’re gonna thank me for making you change your mind.”

“Dylan…”

“Do I have to put you over my knee?”

She had sighed and shook her head. It was obvious to her that he didn’t understand. He was gorgeous and fit, and no one had ever looked at him and whispered or giggled the way they did to her. He didn’t know what it was like to look at himself in a mirror and hate what he saw. This wasn’t some playful defiance game to her. This was survival.

Dylan, who had no concept of any of this, just sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and gestured at his lap. “Come here.”

“No,” she’d answered half curious if he would actually do it.

“I said come here.”

For the first time, his expression wasn’t playful. He was serious and her heartbeat quickened as she felt her cheeks heating. The intensity of his gaze arrested her, pulling her forward. Finding herself in front of him, she meekly bent forward across his thighs.

“No one gets to talk about you that way,” he’d said, drawing his hand back. He swatted her sharply and she gasped. “Not even you, Annie. You’re a lovely girl with a pretty face and beautiful curves. You’re funny and smart and too good to be wasting time with most of the guys around here. Now I want you to admit to yourself that’s true.”

“Dylan,” she had begun, still bent over his lap.

He swatted her again. “I said admit it.”

“I admit it,” she had said, eyes closed and feeling the heat in her cheeks spreading through her whole body.

“Now agree to go to the dance.”

“I don’t –”

The third spank was harder. Bella had bit her lip to keep a sound from escaping. It hadn’t exactly hurt. What it had done was stir up quite a storm of confusing feelings within her, especially since unlike the first two times, the third time, he hadn’t pulled his hand away from her rump.

Bella took a slightly shaky breath, then said softly, “I’ll go to the dance.”

“Good girl,” Dylan had said. “Do you want me to go dress shopping with you?”

She had straightened slowly, unable to look at him again, although now it was for entirely different reasons than a few minutes before. “Sure. That would be great. Thanks.”

 

As the two now ate dinner, no mention was made of Bella’s new ex, Mark. Similarly, neither mentioned the year that had passed since Dylan had dated anyone. Instead, they enjoyed dinner, which was excellent, and the two talked about their jobs and the upcoming Fantasy Festival they planned to attend.

After they finished eating, Dylan cleaned up, as he always insisted on doing whenever she cooked for him, and Bella opened the second bottle of wine. She still didn’t want to talk about her break-up with Mark, but after refilling their glasses, Bella found herself sighing anyway.

“I don’t know why I expected anything else. I guess I should just give up on the whole idea of dating.”

Dylan closed the dishwasher and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave her a look. His expression was one that mixed stern disapproval with sympathy and a hint of amusement. The amusement wasn’t because he found her anguish funny, it was because after all of these years, she was still blind to her own value.

“Maybe you should just stop dating jerks,” he suggested with a hint of frustration.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she muttered, lifting her wineglass to take a sip. “It’s not like I’m being flooded with offers. I can’t afford to be picky like some people.”

“Annie,” he said, a little sharply. “You certainly can, and you absolutely should.” Dylan paused and took a breath, lowering his arms to his sides. “I hate to see you go through this kind of thing.” He moved back to the table and picked up his glass. “I want you to promise me you’re going to set your standards higher.”

She scoffed softly. “Promise you I’ll just stay single, you mean?”

“Annie…”

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, Dylan,” she interrupted, putting her glass down. “None of them start off on the first date, or the third date, being honest about what creeps they are. No, they just start digging at my self-esteem, and making me feel bad about myself until I’m right back to being the fat girl in high school. It’s the only way they can get a girl to stay with them, to make them too broken to leave.”

Angry, Bella wiped the tear from her cheek with a fist. “Well, forget it. I don’t care anymore. I can be single. I can be the best damn fat chef in town. I can be the best damn fat aunt ever.”

“Annie,” Dylan said again, pulling the chair out from the table and sitting down. “Do you think that curves like yours mean you aren’t beautiful and deserve a guy who will treat you right?”

She sighed. “Please, not now. I’m too tired for a pep-talk, Dylan.”

“I’m not gonna try to give you a pep-talk,” he said reluctantly. “You seem to have made up your mind not to listen to me tonight no matter what I say.”

She nodded, relieved he wasn’t going to insist on it for a change.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you go on like this, ignoring the facts.”

When she met his gaze again the silent command was there. She felt a fast rise of conflicting emotions.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to spank you for this. I guess it’s time, isn’t it?’

“Sure,” she replied with a little half-smile on her mouth, immediately starting to feel better. “Because it’s so naughty of me to be down on myself, right?”

“It is,” he said, still holding her gaze levelly. “If you can stand there not knowing how beautiful you are, I’m failing you as a friend. If I have to put you over my knee and spank you, then I will.”

Bella shook her head slightly. Of all people, Dylan was the only one she felt had never failed her. He had always been there for her, especially on nights like tonight, when she foolishly thought what she had wanted was to be alone with her misery.

“Don’t argue with me,” he chided with mock severity. Dylan adopted that over-the-top scowl that always made her giggle. When she couldn’t keep the amusement buried he smiled too. “Come here and accept your punishment, Annie.”

“Fine,” she conceded, stepping forward to bend over his lap. He would swat her behind a few times like he always did, and she would either giggle like she sometimes did or she wouldn’t. Afterward they would go watch one or both of the bad movies and the subject would be dropped for a while. That seemed to be their unspoken plan and Bella liked it.

Bella approached Dylan’s knees and looked down. There was something different in his eyes. She couldn’t quite determine what it was but it made her a little excited.

Getting onto her knees she again looked into Dylan’s eyes hoping to share the playfulness of the moment with him. Instead of seeing that familiar glint back, she saw his hand reach up and rest on her back between her shoulders. “Down,” he commanded, pressing lightly.

Bella resisted for a moment. This was new. Before now she had always willing laid on his lap. Now it felt like he was controlling her. For the first time she felt helpless to his will and it made her heart race. She allowed Dylan’s strong had to lower her onto his knees and she liked it.

Once on his lap, Bella felt Dylan switch hands. It was now his left holding her down, freeing up his right. Her breath quickened as she imagined his hand drawing back.

“Promise me… no, promise yourself  you’ll raise your standards and stop dating jerks,” he said.

“Dylan…”

Before Bella could continue, his hand connected with her ass sharply. With only the silk between his skin and hers, the spank was a whole new experience. It tingled, and made her gasp like the spankings had when they were in high school, only much more so.

“Promise, Annie,” Dylan said with earnestness in his voice.

Her hands tightened as she gripped onto the hard muscle of his thigh for support. “I promise.”

“Good girl.”

His left hand caressed down her back sending a new tingle down her spine.

“Now admit to yourself out loud that you are beautiful just the way you are.”

Bella bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. Not only was what he was asking ridiculous and impossible, she felt a burning desire to know what he would do if she refused. Her face flushed at the idea.

After a moment of silence Dylan realized she wasn’t going to comply. She couldn’t see it but a small smile crept across his face. He drew back and spanked her again. “Say it, Annie,” he demanded.

Bella squeezed her eyes and mouth closed, trying her best to keep her moans from escaping. It wasn’t as if she had forgotten how attractive he was. How could she, when she saw him almost every day, and he’d only gotten more handsome as the years went by? The crush she had had in high school hadn’t really died, despite being buried deep. It had simply changed as it was nurtured by their friendship and enriched by his constant care for her. And now, laying across his lap, she had an overwhelming desire to keep him touching her for as long as possible.

“Stubborn girl,” Dylan whispered loud enough for Bella to hear. “I see I’ll have to be more firm with you.”

Still holding her down with his left, he surprising slid his right hand up to her waist. Bella tensed. This too was new and if he started tickling her, that just wouldn’t be fair at all. Instead, his fingertips hooked the elastic waistband of her pajama pants and she instantly lost her breath.

Bella’s eyes flung open as Dylan slowly pulled down her silken pants exposing her bare bottom. His left hand was still on her back. If it hadn’t been she might have given in to her surprise and pulled away. Even confined she needed to know what he was doing. Why had he changed the game in this way?

If she could have seen his face, she would have seen the way his gaze was fixed on the curves revealed by the lowering silk. She would have seen the expression of barely-restrained hunger at the sight of the creamy skin and round buttocks.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, so softly she could barely hear him.

When the waistband of her pants was across the tops of her thighs he stroked his hand back up. His touch was light, almost reverent, and it fueled her feelings for him.  When he spanked her again, it was softer, and his hand lingered, turning the swat into a caress.

Bella closed her eyes trying to silence her soft moans. Upon his first touch on her bare skin, every nerve in her body seemed to spark warmth. When he spanked her bare ass again, that warmth had flared into heat. It raced up from his strong hand, causing her body to tremble and her head to flood with dizzying desire. Reaching its peak, the sensation then retreated down her where it settled in the swelling folds between her legs. She moaned louder unable to control herself.

The third spank on her bare skin was a little harder, but again immediately became a caress. The tingling between her legs intensified in reply and was followed by a subtle throb. She had no idea what had prompted him to change the game this way, but she couldn’t focus her mind to consider it. She was consumed by arousal, and lost to his touch.

Struggling to gather her wits she realized that nothing she thought she knew of herself prepared her for this. To become so excited by this sensual punishment confused her. To yearn for the next swat, helpless and hot, made her feel out of control. When she found herself wishing that his strikes were lower so that he could see how wet she had become, it woke her up.

“I am beautiful just the way I am,” she spit out realizing how much she had lost control.

Bella endured what felt like an endless pause before Dylan replied. When he did his voice was much softer than it was before.

“Yes, you are,” he replied. “You are, Annie.” Dylan subtly cleared his throat and used both hands to pull her pants up.

Slowly, Bella lifted from his lap. Dylan, who seemed at a loss as to what to do next, stood and turned quickly, replacing the chair in its usual position at the table. Without turning back to her he excused himself with a low mutter and exited into the bathroom.

Guilt quickly filled Bella. She was sure that she had moaned too loudly and had made Dylan feel uncomfortable. Justifying her loss of control she blamed him for changing the game on her. His spanking had aroused her and he knew it, now things were awkward. It was just the remnants of a school-girl crush she told herself. He had to understand that. It was nothing that he had to worry about.

Bella anxiously grabbed her wineglass and took a swig. Unable stand still as the remaining sparks exploded within her loins, she crossed into the living room. Seeing the pair of movies on the coffee table, she grabbed the first and stuck it into the DVD player. She would pretend like none of this had happened much like she treated her crush for Dylan many years earlier. 

“Listen, uh, I’m going to head home.”

Bella turned around finding Dylan standing in the doorway. His eyes were lowered and his head was slightly turned away from her. ‘He can’t look at me,’ she thought.

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Bella said, even though she felt it was anything but okay. “Be careful getting home, Dylan.”

“You know I will. Have a good night, gorgeous.”

Bella followed Dylan to the door. In one swift move the door was open and he was through. He never looked back. Watching him leave felt like getting her heart broken all over again, but this time worse. Mark had just been another jerk, but the rejection she now felt from Dylan meant something. The void that Dylan created by his early departure seemed to suck the life out of her as he left.

Bella locked the door behind him and collapsed onto the door frame. Why did things have to change? Not that she could blame Dylan for feeling awkward. This was their game and the rules had been clear, hadn’t they? It certainly wasn’t his fault that after all these years she still desired him. He couldn’t have known what it would do to her when he pulled down her pants to spank her bare ass.

The only thing she couldn’t understand was why he would have done such a thing to begin with. Their spanking game had always been playful, even if Dylan often used it to make his point. Why had tonight been any different. Why did she find it so arousing this time?

Bella quickly straightened up wanting to bring an end to the night as quickly as possible. ‘He always calls me “pretty lady” and “gorgeous”. That’s why it happened,’ she considered. ‘How could I not fall for him with him saying things like that. And why hasn’t he dated anyone in so long?’ His undivided attention was seductive. How could she help but be aroused by him. ‘He could understand, right?’ she thought. ‘He would have to.’

 Curling into a fetal position in bed, she felt the light thump of Romeo joining her. Without hesitation, she gathered him into her arms and pulled him close.

 “Why can’t men be more like cats, Romeo,” she asked him as she pulled him close. “You just love me no matter what, don’t you?”

“Meow,” answered Romeo.

“I know,” she sighed. “Maybe you could give the men in my life some pointers.”

Bella focused on the warm vibrating body in her arms. It didn’t take long for Romeo to fall asleep, but for Bella and her racing thoughts, sleep was a long time coming.

 

In the three days following her break-up, Bella talked to just about everyone except Dylan. As hours had turned into days, she began to wonder what exactly had happened. It was just a game, wasn’t it? Sure, she had committed a foul, but certainly that wasn’t enough to abandon their friendship altogether, was it?

Bella agonized over whether or not to call him, and what to say if she did. Instead of doing something, she simply did nothing. She threw herself into work with more passion and self-demanding perfection than usual. Once she got home, she would turn her full attention to Romeo spoiling him rotten with fresh salmon and heavy cream.

Each day followed like this until, at last, the phone rang and it was Dylan. Bella kept her voice calm and her greeting casual.

“Hey, stranger. How’s tricks?”

“Tricky,” he replied. “You busy tonight, gorgeous?”

“Not even close,” she said with a near laugh “What’s the plan? Are we going to watch more bad movies?”

Dylan’s pause seemed unusually weighted. “No… How about you come over here, I’ll make you dinner for a change?”

“Wow,” she chuckled. “Really? You’re going to cook for me?” When he didn’t laugh with her, she sobered, wondering what was on his mind. “Sure, I’ll come over. Of course.”

“Great,” he said. “See you in about half an hour. Is that okay?”

“You got it,” she agreed.

A half hour didn’t give her much time considering he lived fifteen minutes away. She scrambled to leave barely remembering to dump food into Romeo’s bowl. Romeo seemed displeased, but Bella promised to make it up to him later.

At the door of Dylan’s apartment, she could smell rosemary and chicken. She suspected that he had made her favorite meal. The dish had gotten her hired at her first restaurant and had left the critics raving.

When Dylan opened the door, Bella was more than a bit surprised to see most of the apartment was dark. The living and dining rooms glowed with candles while the kitchen light escaped from under the door.

“Good to see you,” Dylan said unusually nervous.

Bella smiled and entered. Having gotten used to his usual greetings, it seem odd that he didn’t call her “gorgeous” or “pretty lady” or even “Annie”. There wasn’t even a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he extended a hand toward the dining table where two places had been set. One place was set at the head of the table and the other on the side near it.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, setting her purse down.

“You can sit your gorgeous self down,” he replied, going back into the kitchen. “Your timing is perfect. Just let me get the plates.”

“It smells wonderful,” she said, sitting as directed.

“I had the world’s best teacher,” he replied. “And the world’s best reason. I’m sorry I was out of touch the last few days.”

He returned to the table and set down two full plates. The aroma swirled up and she took a savoring sniff. It was Rosemary Chicken with red potatoes. She could smell the hints of chicory and nutmeg that made the recipe uniquely her own.

“Be right back with the wine.”

While they ate, Bella couldn’t help but feel Dylan’s chatter was somewhat forced. It was as if he was having a hard time with small talk. His amusement at her anecdotes from work seemed distracted. And finally, as he rose to get the dessert, she put her hand out and took hold of his wrist to stop him.

“Dylan,” she said, trying to catch his gaze and failing. “Forget dessert. You obviously have something on your mind. Spill it.”

Dylan looked at her hand on his wrist. For a long time he stared in silence letting seconds tick by until she thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. He then sighed and sat back down.

“Bella, I want you to really listen to me, okay? This is important.” Dylan put his hand on her wrist and met her gaze before again looking down.

“Of course, Dylan,” she replied feeling her throat tighten.

This couldn’t be good. This could only be something really bad if he had gone through so much to deliver the news like this, but she kept herself still and her gaze steady on his face. This was her best friend and after everything he had done for her, she would listen and be there for him in whatever way she could be.

“You are amazing,” he said as his dazzling blue eyes briefly met hers. “All these years, with everything that you did through high school, and culinary school, I just found you more and more amazing.

“But you never let yourself see how special you are, how beautiful, how simply perfect you are, just like you are. You never needed to change anything to be better for anybody. People who couldn’t see it didn’t deserve a minute of your time. And I’ve spent so much time trying to tell you the truth about you, trying to get you to see it, because you deserve to be happy. You need to know how special you are, how absolutely amazing you are, how beautiful…”

Dylan looked up at her again, this time holding her gaze. She felt she should respond, but she couldn’t speak. Of all the things that she imagined him saying, nothing like this had ever crossed her mind.

“I can’t stand by anymore while you let yourself be dragged down by people who don’t appreciate you, Bella. I can’t, and I won’t. I love you, and I know… I know we’ve loved each other for years as friends, but I’ve come to realize that what I feel for you is more than that. There’s no one else that makes me feel like you do. There’s no one that I feel I need in my life more.”

Dylan’s hand tightened on hers. “Tell me you’re just surprised, and it’s not that you’re trying to think of a polite way to tell me I just made a colossal fool of myself.”

“Dylan…” she faltered, feeling her cheeks heat as she dropped her gaze to their hands. Of course, she was surprised, and of course, she would never tell him he was a fool. But… “Yes, I’m surprised. I… I’m not perfect, or special, or amazing, or any of that. I appreciate you saying so, I do. I know you want me to feel good about myself, but…”

“No buts,” he interrupted sharply, eyes flashing in the candlelight. “…except yours, with my hand across it. Is that what you’re after?”

“Dylan…”

She bit her bottom lip and was unable to meet his gaze. She hadn’t been, but as soon as he mentioned it, the memory of the last spanking nearly overwhelmed her, making her incredibly aroused. She wanted nothing more than to be across his lap again.

He waited a moment. When she said nothing further he released her hand and pushed his chair back from the table.

“Have it your way,” he said, gesturing to his lap. “Get over here.”

Not trusting herself to speak, she stood. Her body was already awash in desire. Every inch of her skin tingled with warmth, but beyond the physical desire was the emotional revelation. Dylan was so much more than merely a gorgeous guy eliciting incredible sensations within her, he was her favorite person in the world. She had never allowed her carefully-guarded fantasies about him to venture into her heart.

Now, all of that was being challenged. As much as her body yearned, even demanded, to submit to him, part of her still could not allow the belief that this was truly happening. She stepped meekly over to his chair, then bent above his thighs the way she had most often done in the past.

Dylan put his hands on her back and caressed down to her waist. Even through her clothes his touch ignited fire in her flesh. She took a stifled breath and bit her lower lip lightly, savoring every second of these sensations.

He then pulled down her pants and panties in a swift motion. She bit harder as a wave of warmth rushed between her legs.  As the subtle throbbing began she knew that her pussy lips were engorged. The sensation weakened her to his will.

“My beautiful Annie,” he said, delivering the first swat.

Like last time, his hand lingered, turning the spank into a caress. Bella closed her eyes, letting a soft moan escape her lips. Did he know what this was doing to her? Did he somehow understand better than she did why it excited her so much? Maybe he did. He seemed to understand so many other things about her that she couldn’t see about herself. Allowing her racing heartbeat to overtake her, she submitted to his punishment.

When his hand connected again, his fingertips were much closer to her swollen lips. Her hands tightened on his thigh and she moaned louder. Dylan’s fingers trailed along the round curve of her buttock.

“You know, gorgeous, if you want me to spank you, you can just say so. You don’t have to be a tease.”

Bella lifted her head to reply, but as she did, he spanked her again. She let out a gasp. Dylan chuckled before gently stroking her face.

Gazing up at him, seeing his gentle smile, she felt more than the simple physical arousal and the rich complexity of their long friendship. The fragile barrier that had been keeping the two apart had crumbled. All that was left was a consuming union that defied easy expression.

Seeing Bella’s passion for him in  her eyes, he cupped her chin in his hand. “Have I finally gotten through to you, pretty lady?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

When he smiled she finally saw a reflection of herself in his eyes. She really was his beautiful Annie. She was perfect just as she was. She was amazing and special. And she had luscious curves that he couldn’t stop himself from caressing.

“Do I need to keep spanking you, then?”

“You never needed  to,” Bella replied with a wicked smile. “You know you only did it because we both liked it.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Dylan mused, stroking his hand down her rump. He pulled her pants back up. “On your feet, gorgeous.”

With only a moment’s hesitation, she complied. As she straightened up, he took one of her hands and got to his feet as well.

“So tell me,” he said, linking his fingers through hers, “Were you just surprised, or trying to think of a polite way to tell me I’d made a colossal fool of myself?”

“What do you think?” she said, reaching up to slip her arm around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.

Dylan met her mouth firmly, putting his free hand lightly on the back of her neck. Their first kiss was everything they each hoped and knew it would be. It was sweet and warm and unhurried. It was a symbol of a friendship that had grown and endured while evolving into so much more.

Dylan put his arms around her as she removed her mouth from his with a soft sigh. Her exhalation of contentment washed through her as he stroked his hands down her back.

“It’s been quite a week,” he murmured, sliding a hand down to the round curve of her buttock giving it a squeeze. “I bet you’re just worn out. I should get you to bed.”

“I’m not tired, and I don’t want to go,” she replied feeling a bit confused.

“I meant my bed,” he chuckled, kissing her forehead.

Bella bit her lower lip and nodded allowing him to lead her into the bedroom. It wasn’t her first time in the room, but it was the first time under these circumstances. Her breath and heartbeat quickened as she saw the room anew. This was where he was going to make love to her. The thought turned her cheeks a bright red.

Dylan kissed her again with more heat. He then took the clip out of her hair allowing her dark honey-amber waves to fall down around her face and onto her shoulders.

Brushing her face lightly with the back of his hand he kissed her neck and unbuttoned her blouse. She closed her eyes as the soft cloth slipped down her arms. Feeling the heat of  his body on her skin, she plunged her hands into his lush mane of dark curls. Her loins felt like they were on fire.

Dylan undressed her slowly, savoring every inch of skin he exposed. Kissing each spot before exposing more; he left her breathless and quivering. His hands caressed her curves, and unlike guys she’d been with before, he didn’t avoid any part of her. He really did find every bit of her beautiful just as she was.

When Dylan had her completely naked, he stood back and looked at all of her. His smile grew as a bulge in his pants appeared. He really was attracted to the real Bella and there was no hiding it. But when he made a move to guide her to the bed she resisted.

“Oh no,” she said smiling. “My turn.”

Bella rubbed her hands against his clothed chest and it felt like she had always dreamed that it would. It curved and fell under her fingertips making her body tingle. She then unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his lightly hairy chest. Dylan’s body was toned and fit. His abs rippled like the guys in magazines, and sliding her hand over the peaks and valleys for the first time made her engorged lips ache.

Bella glided her hands down to the bulge pushing on his pants. This was the last barrier of their friendship. She was hesitant to touch him there, but she couldn’t stop herself; nor did she want to. With her feelings for him unlocked, she wanted all of him.

Bella unbuttoned his pants and allowed his size to poke through his zipper. She too savored the moment, and when he had stepped out of his jeans, she looked up into his eyes.

Dylan’s angular face and soft eyes made her heart skip a beat. Without looking down, Bella slipped her hand onto Dylan’s clothed cock. It was warm and filled her hands. To her delight it was pulsating. She swallowed as she fought for breath.

Slipping her hand in his waistband, she pulled his underwear down. Without looking, his briefs hooked for a moment before it freed itself and slid down his thighs. Still locked into his relaxed gaze, she kneeled as she slid his underwear to his ankles.

Finally, with her face inches from his cock, she broke his gaze and looked at it. It was ridged and strong and everything she had always imagined it to be. Allowing it to brush her cheek before standing, she was ready and wanting for anything he would do next.

Again stepping toward her, Dylan held her face in his hands and kissed her. She melted against him and for a long moment that was an eternity of perfection. Nothing existed except the two of them, mouth to mouth, skin to skin.

Dylan guided her to the bed and Bella settled back upon it. He kissed her on the mouth again, then peppered kisses across her cheek and jaw to her neck. He stroked a hand down the other side of her throat, across the top of her chest, and then down to caress her full breast.

“I would have waited forever for you,” he murmured in her ear, his warm breath making her quiver as much as his touch was. “You’re worth waiting for, Annie. But I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.”

“So am I,” she murmured, running her fingers though his hair again. “I love you, Dylan.”

The way his eyes lit up let her know there was nothing more perfect she could have said, and nothing more she needed to say. At first, he simply lay beside her, propped up on one elbow as he gazed at her face. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe that  she really was, finally, there with him in his bed. He lifted his hand and touched her cheek lightly before bending his head to bring his mouth to hers.

As they kissed, he stroked his fingertips down her cheek and neck, across the top of her chest and to her breast. Her back arched a bit as he squeezed lightly and caressed again, bringing his fingers to her nipple. He found it erect, waiting to be played with, and so he did. She moaned, feeling something like electricity sparking through her as he flicked and rubbed and gave it gentle squeezes and twists.

She felt his smile as he took his mouth from hers. He worked his way with slow, hot kisses from her mouth to her other breast, flicking his tongue across her creamy skin. Bella raised a hand to the back of his head and slipped her fingers into his hair as he kissed and fondled her breasts. She wanted to pull him to her, but forced herself to lay still. She sensed how long he had waited to be able to touch her this way. Although she burned to return the attention, she simply gave herself over to him completely.

He worked her nipple with his lips and tongue until her breath was quick and she uttered a moan that sounded like his name. He stroked his hand down over her belly, her hip, and along her thigh. His fingertips left embers smoldering in her skin, and pulled a surge of wetness from between her legs. As he brought his hand back upward, he let it fall between her thighs, and she shifted them a bit apart.

As his fingers brushed lightly against her swollen, wet labia, she moaned again. Her fingers tightened on their own as she felt his reaction, his erection throbbing against her hip. He made a sound low in his throat and his eyes slipped shut.

Dylan brought his mouth back up to hers as he pressed his fingers firmly against her clit. He caught her gasp with his kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he began to rub in slow circles. When her kiss became frantic, he released her mouth to let her pant, eyes closed, cheeks bright pink.

He stopped rubbing to press firmly again, and Bella moaned loudly. “Dylan…”

“Mmm,” he replied softly, entranced by the sight of her, intoxicated by the scent and addicted to the feel. He started rubbing again, faster, harder.

Bella groaned, lifting her hips and lifting her other hand to grope blindly for him. She felt a delicious tension building. It started deep in her groin but spread quickly to fill her entire body.

Her hips rose and fell on their own, seeking his touch, her wet folds yearning for him. As if reading her mind, he slid two long fingers into her, pressing hard against her clit with his thumb. She groaned again, and the tension suddenly burst. Dylan felt her cum quivering around his fingers, and he groaned softly as well. His cock throbbed as he bent his head to press his face into her full breasts.

“My beautiful girl,” he murmured as she gasped.

He kissed her breasts and stroked his fingers slowly out of her, before repositioning himself over her.

Bella opened her eyes and reached up a hand to stroke his chest as he settled between her round thighs. This exact fantasy had spun through her head so many times, but now it was real. She wished there was some way to keep this moment from never ending, to keep this night forever stretching into eternity.

Dylan bent forward and kissed her. She put her arms around him. He reached down between them and grabbed his cock guiding it to her.

Bella groaned deep in her throat as Dylan rubbed the head of his cock against her now sensitive clit. Her hips jerked, and her arms tightened, but he remained as he was until she had to tear her mouth away to gasp. He moved his mouth to the side of her neck and shifted the position of his cock against her. As he ravaged her with slow, hot kisses, he stroked the throbbing length of his shaft along her clit until she orgasmed again. He groaned when he felt the warm wetness surge across his flesh.

With a low, almost animal sound, he pulled his hips back far enough to plunge into her at last.

“Yes,” Bella nearly cried out, clutching at him.

Dylan sank his length into her, then held himself there a moment. His cock throbbed powerfully enough that she felt it bouncing within her. She was his beautiful Annie, the only woman that he had wanted for so long. He felt her warmth, the wetness of her arousal, the softness of her full curves. He, too, wished they could remain in this perfect moment forever.

Her hips lifted and her hands slid down his back. His body answered hers, his hips drawing back slightly so he could thrust forward again. He moved slow at first as she caressed his back, chest, and arms, looking up at him with adoration. He then moved a little faster, making her lips part and her eyes slip shut.

Her hands tightened on his back, her nails biting into his skin. It spurred him faster, and she moaned loudly, tossing her head back and forth. He could feel her orgasm building, her muscles tightening, quivering around him.

It was a struggle for him to hold back, but he managed until he felt her cum. After, there was no question of whether to let himself release or not. She cried out, nails raking down his back, as her back arched and she squeezed him from the waist down. Feeling him throb inside her made her groan with him, “ahhh” and exhausted by each other’s sweaty passion, she pulled him down for a heated kiss.

As her best friend, there had been nothing he didn’t known about her. As her lover, he left no part of her body unknown. Sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes heated and nearly frantic with desire, their hours of sex which followed were passionate and loving. He gave her feelings, physical and otherwise, she never would have guessed she could have.

It was near dawn when Dylan sank exhausted, gathering Bella in his arms and cuddling her close. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

Bella stroked her hand down his chest. She felt both deep contentment and something strange, yet familiar. After a moment she was able to place it. It seemed foreign because the context was all wrong. This was what happiness was like when she wasn’t cooking. This was what intense, fulfilled happiness with Dylan was like.

Lying in his arms she suddenly had the realization that this feeling wouldn’t end. He loved her and always had no matter what she did or looked like. She loved him from the first time they met and had never stopped. They had been friends for such a long time, and their friendship had become deep love. Clearly, this was not going to fade and be forgotten. This, too, would only grow, becoming deeper, stronger and richer.

“There’s a word for a guy like you,” Bella murmured, kissing the center of his chest with the last of her sexual energy.

“What’s that?” Dylan responded, half-asleep as he stroked her back.

“Soul-mate,” she said, laying her head down again.

His arms tightened around her. “You better believe it, gorgeous,” he murmured before holding her closer and they both fell asleep.

The end.

 

*****

 

 

 

Danielle Jamison groaned as the jet touched down on the runway. It wasn’t just the hangover, she was used to hangovers. It was what was waiting for her when she got off the plane.

Her parents had more than once before said things about “tough love” and “straighten up and flying right.” Dropping in and out of college was driving them crazy, they said. Staying out all night to party with her friends, and sleeping all day, wasn’t what they wanted for her. What she wanted didn’t matter. As long as she lived under their roof, they said, and spent their money, she had to follow their rules. It didn’t matter that she was an adult of twenty-two.

This crazy idea of theirs was enough to make her sick even without a hangover. Sending her to the family dude ranch in Wyoming was the worst possible punishment. There was nothing in Wyoming except rocks and sky. Her mother had refused even to get her a limousine from the airport to the ranch, saying someone from Big-J Ranch would come pick her up.

She dawdled, groaning again as she pulled herself out of the seat. When the flight attendant cheerfully welcomed her to Casper and asked if she needed assistance, Danielle just grunted at her. She delayed longer, digging her cell phone out of her purse and waiting for it to turn on before ambling slowly up the aisle to the exit.

She had promised to call her parents as soon as she landed. But she had promised them lots of things over the years. They had already sent her a thousand miles to nowhere. What more could they do? So she started calling her girlfriends, but of course nobody answered. Everyone else was still sleeping off her farewell party.

The terminal was nothing like the airport in New York. There was almost nothing to it: no shops, no restaurants, no nothing. It just had people hurrying to leave.

Danielle stumbled her way to the baggage claim area and found a bench. With relief she sat again, laying her aching head in her hand. Maybe if she got really sick her parents would let her come back home.

“You must be Miss Jamison,” a rough voice said.

Danielle lifted her head just a bit finding scuffed cowboy boots and faded blue jeans. “Yeah. Who are you?”

“I’m Tim Slade, foreman at your father’s ranch,” he answered. “You got luggage?”

“Yeah,” Danielle replied, in a tone of bored disinterest. Of course she had bags. He didn’t really think she came out here with only her purse, did he?

“You best get them and come on, then,” the foreman said brusquely. “We got work waiting.”

That got Danielle to lift her head and gape at him. He was about her father’s age, but his face was weathered by sun and wind. His expression made it seem like he had never smiled or laughed in his life. “By myself?” she demanded.

He lifted a hand to push the brim of his hat up a little. “Your father said you were a strong-willed one. I figured you wouldn’t need any help.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” she retorted, slowly standing. “I got sent out here for two weeks and I brought a lot of stuff. I need a hand with my things.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll go find you a cart,” he said dryly.

Danielle lifted her chin as he turned. He wasn’t planning on making her do it, was he? What kind of man was he? She couldn’t believe this. It just wasn’t fair.

Tim just stood and watched as she got her bags piled on the luggage cart, then didn’t offer to pull it for her despite how heavy it was. She hauled it after him to the doors and outside. To her dismay, but no real surprise, he led the way to a battered pickup truck. He dropped the gate and got into the cab without even offering to help her put her bags into the flatbed.

Danielle had to dig in her purse for her sunglasses. The light was so bright she thought for sure she was going to throw up right there on the sidewalk. Once the shades were on, she felt a little better. She muscled her bags into the bed of the truck by herself, and that made her feel a little better still. She didn’t need old Mr. Slade’s help. But when she tried to get the gate closed, it just banged down again, making her head throb.

“I’ll get it,” he said waving her toward the cab like he was doing her a huge favor.

Danielle climbed up into the passenger seat and hauled the door shut. Leaning back, she sighed in relief. After a moment, she opened her purse retrieving her phone and cigarettes. But before she could light up, Mr. Slade objected.

“Not in here, you don’t,” he said climbing into the cab and starting the engine. “You might as well just throw them away. We don’t allow smoking on the ranch.”

“What do you mean?” Danielle demanded. “You can’t tell me I can’t have a cigarette anywhere for two weeks.”

“Your parents’ orders,” the foreman replied, not looking at her. “Did you call them yet?”

“No,” she said, sulking and slumping in her seat.

“Best do that, then. Other thing you can’t have on the ranch is that fancy phone of yours.”

“What!”

“Ask ’em yourself.” Slade had both hands lightly on the wheel, and Danielle could swear he seemed amused by her outrage. “You’re out here to work, missy, not for vacation.”

Danielle called home, and her mother answered. They got into an argument at once dragging her father onto the other line. It was no use, her parents were firm. They had been worried about her, and this was their solution. They figured forcing her to work at the dude ranch, without her phone, without cigarettes or drinking or anything fun at all, would make her into something different. What that would be, they didn’t say.

“Why do you hate me?” Danielle cried.

“Honey, we don’t hate you,” her father said. “Don’t you see? Every time we try to help you, you say we hate you.”

Her mother started to say something but Danielle just hung up. They always said the same things. They wouldn’t let her have any fun. They were always so down on her. They didn’t remember anymore what it was like to be young.

It was almost an hour to the ranch from the airport, and she cried nearly the whole way. The foreman said nothing, but as they neared the turn-off from the county highway, he took some pity on her at last.

He stopped the truck just before the traditional arch that spanned the private road for the Big-J Ranch. When Danielle looked at him, Mr. Slade said, “If you wanted to hop on out here and have yourself a last smoke, I suppose no one would see you. Just make sure you don’t leave the butts burning.”

“Thanks,” she said, scrambling for the door latch.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “I’ll take your things on up to the house. Don’t dally too long. Like I said, we got work waiting.”

Danielle got out and frantically lit a cigarette. The truck was gone before she knew it and she leaned against the split-rail fence. She felt dizzy from the bliss of nicotine. Her parents, the flight, it was all very stressful. At least her hangover was just about gone. And feeling her mind clear, she looked around and noticed how pretty the sky was here. It was bluer than she could have imagined. It was never this blue in New York.

Danielle got out her phone, but saw at once she had no bars. ‘Figures,’ she thought sourly. It didn’t matter if her parents said she could have it or not. Out here in the middle of nowhere, she didn’t have service. She could get bitten by a snake or attacked by bandits or something, and she wouldn’t be able to call for help. ‘That would serve my parents right; sending me off like this,’ she thought.

She sighed, dropped the end of her cigarette, and remembered what Mr. Slade had said about not leaving them burning. The grass around did look really dry. She stepped on it, then got out another and lit it. If she wasn’t going to be able to smoke, she might as well have a few while she could.

 

 

It had been nearly two hours since he had unloaded the girl’s luggage from the truck onto the porch. He had run out of things to do that kept him within sight of the road. She had yet to show up.

“Owen!” the foreman called. His son trotted over at once, still coiling a lasso as he did. “That girl is still by the road, I bet. Go on down and get her.”

Owen nodded. His father had warned him about Danielle Jamison’s visit. The owners of the ranch were real nice people. Mr. Jamison’s family had owned the place for generations, and the Slades had worked for them from the beginning. But what he had heard about Danielle wasn’t anything good; a spoiled, rich, city girl. This was her first visit to the ranch, and it wasn’t because she wanted to be here. His father expected her to be trouble and already she was proving him right.

Owen finished coiling the lasso and slung it over his shoulder as he headed down the private road. They knew how to handle high-spirited fillies. If this girl needed some hard work and fresh air to get her head straight, then that was what she would get.

As he neared the county highway, a chill shot though his spine. He didn’t see anyone. Wondering if she might have run off or even hitched a ride into town, he pushed his hat up and scratched his head. His father had warned him she was a bit wild. Wild enough to risk getting a ride with a stranger just to buck her parents? He knew that city kids did crazy things, but he hoped she wasn’t that crazy.

As he got closer to the arch, though, he saw her. She was sitting on the ground, back against one of the big rocks, as if she didn’t have anything better to do than laze around all day.

“Hey,” he said, shrugging the rope off his shoulder and letting it drop into his hand. She didn’t move. “Miss Jamison. Come on. Time to get to work.”

She seemed to be ignoring him. He got closer and saw her eyes were closed. She had fallen asleep, leaning against the boulder. He shook his head bemused. What kind of person just falls asleep on the side of a road like that? He had half a mind to leave her there. He knew he couldn’t, though. His father was expecting him to get her to work. Still, he took a moment to look her over before waking her up.

She was a couple of years younger than him, but from what he had heard, she still acted like a high-school kid. Her hair was dark blonde, except in a few places where it had been dyed purple, red and electric blue. It looked like she was still wearing the make-up from the night before, heavy and dark around her eyes. She was a plump girl, her round cheeks relaxed in sleep, ample bosom rising and falling in deep breaths. ‘A shame she was a spoiled rich girl from the city,’ he thought liking what he saw.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Owen said sharply. “Time to get up.”

Danielle jerked awake. “What?”

He smirked and tipped his hat up a bit in a mocking greeting. “Mornin’. Welcome to your new home for the next couple of weeks. Let’s get moving, huh? I got chores to get to.”

“All right, all right,” Danielle grumbled remembering where she was.

Danielle rubbed her eyes, wondered where her sunglasses had gone. Finding them in the dirt beside her, she blindly reached for them and was about to put them on.

“I won’t do that if I were you,” Owen said holding back a smile.

“Wouldn’t do what?” she asked trying to get her bearings.

“Put them on.”

Danielle looked up toward the voice seeing only the glare of the sun. Turning back toward her shades she slowly flipped them over. Finding a perched scorpion, she let out a piercing screech. But refusing to let go of her favorite pair of sunglasses, she waved her hand frantically until the creature flew off. Owen couldn’t help but laugh.

“And that is why you don’t fall asleep in the dirt.”

Danielle composed herself and turned her attention back toward the voice. Still not sure who it was she figured it was Mr. Slade. The sun was behind him so it was hard to see. But once she was on her feet, she saw she was mistaken.

This man was younger and much better looking than the foreman. He was tall and lean, with light brown hair and intense green eyes that pierced her like twin emerald needles. He was gorgeous and something told her that she shouldn’t let him know that she thought that.

“You’ll need to pick those up,” he said as Danielle starting walking toward the private road.

Danielle turned back toward him. His voice had more of a drawl than the foreman’s. It was cowboy sexy. And although she knew that she shouldn’t look to see what he was referring to, there was something about the tone of his voice that made her look.

Following his finger, she found her two cigarette butts. She knew what he was referring to but decided that she couldn’t let him bully her so easily.

“And do what with them?” she asked, looking back at him.

“Throw them out when we get up to the ranch,” Owen answered. “Maybe where you come from, people are happy to pick up after you. Around here, you’re gonna pick up after yourself.”

Danielle thought for a second before complying. “Fine,” she replied, a little frosty. Obviously he already had some sort of problem with her. There was something in her that didn’t want to make anything worse. So turning and bending over as he watched, she picked up the butts. With her round rump in the air, the whole thing felt humiliating.

Owen slung the rope over his shoulder as he admired the view. Definitely, this filly needed breaking. But at least she’d shown up in skin-tight jeans and an off-the shoulder blouse. It gave him a sexy image to hold onto for when the real headaches started.

“Let me have another before we go,” Danielle said, straightening up and opening her purse.

“Looks like you already had half a pack,” he replied. “You figure to just smoke your way outta working?”

“Come on,” she cajoled, gesturing with the cigarette. “Don’t be such a hardass. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

“Half the morning’s gone already,” he said, dropping the lasso into his hand again. “Do I need to wrangle you up to the house by force?”

She eyed the rope for a moment. Flicking her gaze to his face, she saw he wasn’t smiling. Somehow feeling like a little girl being chastised by her father, she put the cigarette back into the pack and put the pack back into her purse.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Danielle stomped up the private road and he walked along behind her whistling a cheery tune. She was sure he was doing it to torment her. When they got up to the house, he showed her the garbage bin she could toss the cigarette butts into. He then leaned against a hitching post and watched as she carried her bags into the house by herself. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t even offer to help.

 

Safely out of Owen’s sight, Danielle had hoped to buy herself more time by stretching out her settling-in. But immediately confronted by Mrs. Slade, the older woman showed her where her room was, then pointed her toward Mr. Slade who was waiting for her outside. When Danielle asked about unpacking, the older woman just shook her head.

“Bring in your bags and you can unpack later. Chores won’t wait. If you don’t get your chores done, you don’t eat. Those are the rules around here.”

Outraged, Danielle stomped back outside. Was that what this was about? Did her parents think she was fat? How dare they! But after another couple of trips back and forth, slamming the door and stomping every step, Danielle was panting and tired. Maybe she hadn’t needed so much stuff. How come nobody was willing to help her carry anything? It was all so unfair.

“That girl is gonna be a handful,” Owen observed as Danielle stomped back out onto the porch for the rest of her things.

“Sure is,” his father agreed. “You’re gonna be busy keeping her out of trouble the next two weeks.”

“Me?” Owen said, turning to look at the foreman with surprise. “Why me? What did I do?”

Tim chuckled. “I got a ranch to run. I Can’t be chasing after some city girl. Besides, you could use to learn some patience yourself. If she can’t help you learn it, I don’t know what will.”

“Come on, Pa –”

“Don’t ‘Pa’ me. It’s work hours and I’m your boss.” Tim’s gaze was level and humorless. “If you got a problem with your work assignment, then we can discuss it like adults. But if you’re gonna whine at me like a spoiled brat, then I’ll treat you like one.”

Owen dropped his gaze, sighed, then glanced up as the screen door on the porch banged again. Danielle had come outside once more, no longer stomping. She reached for the last bag, lifted it, then paused. He could see her shoulders rise and fall in a sigh before she opened the door and went back inside. She didn’t slam the door behind her.

“I don’t have a problem, sir. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Good to hear. Your ma will no doubt need her help by now with lunch. After that she’s all yours.” Tim slapped his hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Two weeks from now when she goes home, that will be as good as getting a vacation. You’ll see,” Tim said with a smile.

“I got a sick feeling you’re right,” Owen grumbled.

“Cheer up, son. At least we don’t have any other guests to worry about right now.” Tim dropped his hand and checked his watch. “I gotta meet the vet. Go on and get back to your chores. I’ll let the women know you’ll be looking after Miss Jamison after lunch.”

When Mrs. Slade had told Danielle she would be helping with meals, it hadn’t sounded too bad; then she found out what all that meant. Everyone on the ranch ate in a big building like a barn. Although the house had a kitchen, it was almost never used.

The chuck hall had a huge kitchen like a restaurant. Mrs. Slade told Danielle that during the busy season, they might have a hundred guests. On top of the guests were twenty ranch-hands. Danielle had no idea how big her father’s prized dude ranch was. Whenever he spoke about it, she always pictured three people and a couple of horses. Standing in the chuck hall it felt more like an old timey cowboy town. Getting a better perspective of the place, she turned her attention back toward the old woman.

Mrs. Slade wanted the whole chuck hall cleaned before every meal. Every table and bench had to be wiped down. The dust got everywhere and it had to be cleaned off. It didn’t matter if nobody was going to be sitting at that table, Mrs. Slade wasn’t going to stand for it not being cleaned.

Once Danielle was done with that, she was instructed to help in the kitchen. Then she helped with setting up the food in the hall and serving the food. The ranch-hands got served first. Only after they got their lunch was she allowed to sit down to eat. Exhausted and starved by then, she didn’t even care that the food was weird cowboy food.

Sitting back allowing the meat and potatoes to digest, she desperately wanted to sneak off for a smoke and a nap. Subtly trying to slip away, Mrs. Slade caught her directing her to wash dishes. There were a mountain of dishes, followed by a mountain of pots and pans. It was a nightmare. Never in her life had she done such a thing. Hadn’t these people heard of a dishwasher? By the end, her manicure was ruined. And just when she thought she was done, Mrs. Slade made her re-wash half of what she had already cleaned.

Finally, to Danielle’s surprising relief, Mrs. Slade stopped her and directed her to work outside with Owen. At least she wasn’t going to be washing anything else, she thought.

“This way,” Owen said brusquely, leading the way toward the barn.

“Ooh, horses,” she cooed. Finally something good was coming of this whole horrible trip, she thought.

“Something like that,” he agreed.

Grabbing a muck fork he directed her toward a stall. Entering it, she frowned finding it empty.

 “Where are the horses?”

“Out in the pastures,” he answered. “You’ll need this.”

She took a quick look at the pitch fork and crossed her arms over her chest. “For what?”

“To clean the stall. Or you can use your hands. Most people would rather use the fork, though.”

“Oh, no,” Danielle said, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

Owen set the fork down and draped his arm over the top of the handle. “Miss Jamison, I wasn’t asking you. The stalls need to be cleaned. You’re here to work. Now you can clean them with or without the fork. Either way, you’re gonna clean ’em.”

“I am not shoveling horse poop,” Danielle said mortified that he would even consider her doing such a thing.

“No ma’am, I’m not asking you to shovel it,” he agreed, his green eyes amused and yet not giving an inch. “All you gotta do is fork the solid and soiled straw into the wheelbarrow. Then when the barrow is full, you empty it on the compost heap. After that you fill it up again and repeat. Even a city girl like you can manage it, I’m sure.”

“You don’t get it,” she said, lowering her arms, hands fisted. “I am not cleaning these stalls. I don’t care what you think or what my parents think. I’m not doing it!”

Danielle turned and stomped off, leaving Owen to stare after her. He shook his head and half-smiled before laughing to himself. She was high-spirited, all right. And while he didn’t like her spoiled rich-girl attitude, despite himself, he did find himself liking her strong-willed nature. Feisty girls were certainly fun. So he let her go and set to cleaning the stalls himself. He decided that there would be time enough to let her get settled and adjust to how things were on the ranch. He didn’t have to break his filly on the first day.

Three days later, though, Owen was tired of her strong will and thoroughly sick of her attitude. His mother had given up with having Danielle help in the chuck hall because the girl was useless with the cleaning. And as far as he Owen knew, his mother had never before given up on anything.

Owen was almost ready to give up as well. He spent almost all of everyday searching for Danielle while she spent all of everyday finding places to hide to avoid chores. As a break, she would show up for meals. And to close another successfully unproductive day, she would crawl into bed after dark.

On most days, the only way Owen found her was the smell of cigarette smoke. The ranch hands who smoked knew better than to do so anywhere near the buildings. So whenever Owen smelled it, he knew who it had to be.

Sometimes, though, he wasn’t able to track it to the source fast enough to find her. He would only find the butt with her lipstick on it ground into the dirt. The first few times he’d found them, he had wondered why she was so careless to leave them behind. Then, after picking up yet another one so his father wouldn’t find it, he saw her a little ways off smirking at him. She waved mockingly, then ran off. That’s when he knew she was doing it on purpose, leaving them for him to find. She was taunting him.

Staring at yet another cigarette butt, Owen nearly lost his temper. But remembering what his father had said about needing to learn patience, he caught himself. She certainly was teaching him about that. Owen steeled his resolve and put his mind to work on finding some way to end their battle of wills.

A couple days later, he was waiting for her on the porch when she tried to sneak off again. “Mornin’,” he greeted. “Remember me?”

“Uh, sure,” Danielle said. “Owen, right?”

“That’s right,” he replied casually. “Wondering if you might do me a favor?”

“Um, maybe. What is it?”

“I was hoping we could try something new today instead of me chasin’ you all over the place and gettin’ nothing done. You don’t like to be told what to do, so, you tell me what you’d be willin’ to do.”

She looked at him a moment, considering. On the one hand, it was a lot of fun just making him chase her all over. But while she hid, she had also been overhearing what the hands were saying about her. Owen never seemed to say anything himself, but everyone else clearly despised her. Mrs. Slade and the other few women on the ranch refused to talk or even look at her. So, on the other hand…

“I could brush the horses,” she finally said. “Or comb their hair, or whatever you call it.”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal, then. I’ll show you how to groom the horses, and then later you can do some riding.” He raised an eyebrow as she started to chew her bottom lip. “You never rode before?”

“No,” Danielle answered. “I mean, I was on a pony, once, when I was little. But…”

“Don’t worry,” he said, extending a hand toward the barn. “You’ll do fine. I’ll take care of you.”

They went into the barn and Owen got her a crate of grooming tools from the tack room. After, he went out to fetch the first horse.

Danielle looked into the crate, picked up a brush, then put it back down. Some of the tools looked very strange and like they would hurt the horse. She knew she couldn’t do anything until Owen explained them, so she just waited.

Immediately bored and sensing an opportunity, Danielle glanced around. She was alone except for the barn cats. She moved toward the door so she could see him coming and pulled out her cigarettes.

Taking a deep inhale on her lit cig, she thought about Owen. It had surprised her that he was willing to ask what she wanted to do instead of trying to boss her around. She couldn’t remember the last time anybody had asked her something like that. Everyone just tried to give her orders, so of course she didn’t listen. But Owen, it seemed, had finally figured out that she could be perfectly reasonable if she was just asked instead of bullied.

Danielle heard hooves thudding behind her much closer than she expected. She had thought he would be coming from the other way giving her more time. Startled, she flicked the cigarette away without thinking and hurried back to the crate, trying to seem bored.

Owen’s gaze fixed on her as soon as he reached the barn doorway. “Please tell me you weren’t smoking in here,” he said, clearly angry.

“I wasn’t,” Danielle replied immediately. She was able to hold his gaze steadily because she was so used to lying to her parents. She knew that even if he caught her, there was really nothing he could do about it.

His expression made it clear that he didn’t believe her, but without evidence, argument was pointless. He tugged the lead rope, and the horse stepped forward, seeming nervous.

The animal’s ears were twitching quickly, its head was up, nostrils flared, tail flicking fast side to side. As Owen tried to guide it to the front of a stall, it started to almost dance, taking rapid steps and tossing its head.

“Easy,” Owen said, tightening his grip on the rope as he shot another angry glance at Danielle. “Easy, Old Max. Calm down, there, boy. It’s okay.”

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, watching as the cowboy attempted to control the nervous horse.

“Something’s spooking him,” Owen said, his irritation with her becoming less important as he needed to focus on the animal. The horse put its ears back and reared, uttering a low whinny of fear. “What the hell –”

“Maybe he just –” Danielle began.

“Oh, you stubborn girl!” Owen exploded, releasing the rope and letting the horse bolt out of the barn. When the animal had reared he had known something had to be really wrong. Old Max was the most patient and sensible horse on the ranch, the one they always used for guests who had never been near a horse before. He never panicked or spooked. Only one thing would set Old Max off like that, and sure enough, when he had half-turned and given a sniff, the unmistakable smell of smoke was there.

Owen looked into the stall and saw the straw was smoldering. Looking closer, right in the middle of the charred spot was one of Danielle’s lipstick smeared cigarettes. Even as he watched, some of the straw flared up and began burning.

Out of the corner of his eye, Owen saw Danielle headed for the door as well. “Don’t you dare move,” he growled as he leapt into the stall and stomped out the fire. To his surprise, Danielle obeyed, watching him with wide eyes as he ensured not the smallest ember remained to threaten the barn. As he stepped out of the stall, he could barely contain his fury.

“Do you have any idea what you nearly did?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, twisting her fingers tightly together. “I didn’t – I mean, I just – I’m sorry!”

He walked up to her. “Sorry wouldn’t mean anything if the place started burning or if the horses got hurt. Don’t you ever think of anybody but yourself?”

Danielle had dropped her hands and her gaze as he spoke. But when he asked her that, accused her like that, she glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I said I was sorry. If you people would just let me have a smoke somewhere now and then, it wouldn’t have happened.” She tossed her head and started to turn away. “I don’t see what the big deal is, anyway. You put it out before anything really happened.”

Owen, for a moment, was too angry to respond. Over the years there had been plenty of foolish tourists that did silly things on the ranch. But never had he had to deal with one so selfish and careless as her. Despite her saying “sorry,” it was obvious she didn’t really feel any responsibility for what could have happened. It was just a word she thought was going to make everything okay.

“Around here, when a child does something so reckless and thoughtless, we take it real serious,” he told her, taking hold of her arm before she could leave. “It’s clear you never been taught your actions have consequences.”

“Let me go,” Danielle demanded, trying to twist her arm away. “I’m not a child!”

Owen’s grip could not be broken. Years of wrangling cattle and horses made handling her an easy task. He pulled her over toward the stall door and put a boot up onto the bottom rail. “You’re too old to be acting like one, that’s for sure,” he agreed. “But if you’re gonna act like one, then you can be damn sure I’m gonna treat you like one.”

“Let me go,” she repeated, louder, as she continued to fight uselessly. “Who do you think you are?” Instead of answering, he hauled her forward over his upraised knee. For a moment Danielle just continued to struggle. Then, with horror, she realized what he was about to do.

“Don’t you dare!” she yelled.

His reply was a hard palm against her butt and she let out another yell. She started kicking, trying desperately to free herself from his grip. But despite only holding her with one hand, he had no trouble keeping her over his knee.

Danielle had never been subjected to such treatment in her life. It was barbaric, unthinkable, and yet her heart was racing. Her breath quickened, and it didn’t have anything to do with her fury. The exact spot his hand had connected on her ass felt hot as if he had branded her. From it, warmth was spreading, sliding between her legs, filling her with heat that was as far from anger as she was from home.

When his hand connected again, she gasped. The heat sank deeper and spread further, and her nipples hardened. She didn’t understand why her body was reacting this way. Her mind wanted him to stop, but her body clearly wanted the opposite. Even if this rough touch was not erotic to him, it was to her.

With the third spank, she bit her lower lip and moaned deep in her throat. The hot feeling had filled her entirely and she was sure her face was bright red. She continued to kick and squirm, and his other hand tightened on her back, pushing her down harder against his thigh. Her body responded with a fresh surge of heat between her legs, her pussy lips becoming engorged and pressing at the fabric covering them.

At the fourth spank, Danielle stopped kicking and moaned again. She lifted her hands to her face and her cheeks were so hot her palms felt like ice. Never in her life had she experienced any of this.

Danielle had to bite her lip harder to keep from blurting out something mortally embarrassing. She wanted to say something like he could do anything he wanted, tie her up, spank her, anything.

When she stopped kicking and sagged across his thigh, Owen thought she had gotten the message. He let her go, stepping back as she straightened up.

Danielle was outraged. How dare he hit her – no, spank her like a naughty child. But at the same time, greater than her outrage, she was undeniable aroused. It had been infuriating, yes, and humiliating to have him treat her like that. But it was also intensely thrilling to feel those strong hands on her, to know this gorgeous cowboy could make her comply to his will.

Owen, for his part, was afraid to meet her gaze. He had acted impulsively, meting out the kind of punishment everyone around there was used to. But she was a rich girl from the city, and obviously those kind of people raised their kids different. More important, she was the daughter of the owner of the ranch. He had done it to teach her how actions have consequences and now he, and potentially his whole family, could face some serious consequences of their own.

“I best catch Old Max,” he said gruffly turning away.

“What should I do?” she asked, suddenly wanting to please him.

“Whatever you want. You will anyway.” He turned his head a bit as if he was going to glance back at her, but stopped before she could see his expression. “Quit smoking in the barn. I mean it.”

“I will,” she promised. She actually meant it, for once, too. It wasn’t that she was intimidated by the spanking, she realized as she waited for him to come back. She wanted Owen to like her. And that wasn’t because he was handsome. It was because of the way he had finally asked her what she wanted to do. And then she had ruined it by smoking in the barn, starting the fire and making him so angry.

‘No,’ she admitted to herself. It was probably lying about it that made him so angry. Lying and acting like a child. She felt her cheeks warm as she thought about the spanking again. What would he be like if he wasn’t angry? He was so strong. He could just grab her and toss her down and do anything he wanted. She realized she was breathing fast with a hand on her chest.

Danielle decided that instead of simply waiting and daydreaming, she would show him that she could do better. She found the muck fork and wheelbarrow and got the scorched straw out of the stall. When Owen still hadn’t returned by the time she finished, she decided to brave the stink and get the rest of the soiled straw out too.

Once that stall was done and Owen still hadn’t come back, Danielle wasn’t sure what to do. She finally decided to take the straw out to the compost heap even though the wheelbarrow wasn’t full. While outside, she saw Owen talking with his father. Old Max was standing calmly between them. Neither man looked her way. She quickly dumped the load on the pile, then hurried back inside. She wanted Owen to see she was hard at work without being told.

She cleaned three more stalls, but no one came into the barn. Finally it occurred to her that he wasn’t coming back. He had meant it about doing what she wanted. He had been angry enough to give up on her just like his mother and everyone else around the ranch had.

Danielle sat down on a stool and fought tears. It wasn’t fair. Just because she had messed up didn’t mean everyone should just decide she should be ignored. She hated being ignored almost more than anything. She reached for the cigarettes in her pocket then stopped. She should at least get out of the barn. Maybe even go down to the road.

She sighed and stood up. She glanced at the stall she had opened but not yet started to muck out. Hearing a voice, she looked up. Nobody came in.

Gaining a sense of resolve, she lifted her chin. These people thought they knew her, but they didn’t know anything about her. They thought she was a lazy spoiled rich city girl. Well, she would show them. Just because she refused to let them order her around didn’t mean she was afraid to work. Owen had said she could do what she wanted. What she wanted right now more than anything was to show them all that they were totally wrong about her. She wanted Owen to see that she could do something right.

Danielle took a breath, squared her shoulders and picked up the fork. Maybe these people would never like her, maybe Owen would never like her, but by the time she left, they would have to admit they had been wrong about her. She would make sure of that.

That night, as she stripped off her clothes waiting for the tub to fill, she thought again about how Owen had spanked her. The outrage was gone. All that remained was the memory of his strength and what it had done to her. It wasn’t a frightening sort of helplessness, it was erotic and thrilling. She ran her hands over her full curves, closing her eyes, wishing they were his hands. She then stepped into the tub and sank into the water. But instead of simply bathing, she slipped a hand between her legs and thought of Owen, the way he smiled, the way he moved.

Her body responded at once, nipples, clitoris and pussy lips all becoming erect. It wasn’t just his looks. She had been with good-looking guys. There was something else about him, something that just drew her to him.

She brought her other hand down to join the first as she closed her eyes. Danielle spread her legs and used the fingers of her left hand to spread her lips as she slowly began to stroke her clit with her right index finger.

Owen was self-assured without being arrogant, she considered. Maybe that was it; quietly capable, and so strong.

She remembered his grip on her arm when he had grabbed her to spank her. Her finger pressed harder on her clit. She moaned softly as her pulse quickened. He was a man who could take anything he wanted and she wanted to be taken.

Danielle gasped and started rubbing. What if he saw her like this? What would he say if he knew what she was thinking? If he knew that it had turned her on to be spanked, would he be disgusted?

Danielle bit her lip then shook her head. She suspected he might be a little shocked, but not disgusted. Not Owen. If he knew how it had made her feel, if he saw her right now…

“I’m such a naughty girl,” she murmured, rubbing her clit harder and thinking about how it had felt to be bent over his thigh.

Similar heat bloomed through her, but it was tame in comparison to what his touch had inspired. She thought about him opening the bathroom door, somehow knowing she was fantasizing about him as she touched herself. She imagined his soft drawl and knowing gaze as he reached for her.

“You sure are a naughty girl, missy,” he would say, those strong hands pulling her up easily out of the tub. “I know just how to deal with a wild thing like you.” And he would bend her over his knee again and spank her bare ass. Danielle moaned loudly, then slid two fingers into her throbbing pussy. She groaned.

“Oh, yes, cowboy,” she moaned, only needing to thrust her fingers in and out a few times before she climaxed. Her whole body tensed and quivered, then relaxed, and her head rolled against her shoulder. She squeezed her thighs tightly together, trapping her hands between them.

‘There has to be some way to fix things. There has to be some way to get Owen to like me,’ she thought. Maybe they wouldn’t ever get together, but she was definitely interested in seeing if he could be interested in her.

 

 

Over the next few days, the change in Danielle was so much that everyone noticed and commented on it. Mrs. Slade was nothing less than amazed, telling everyone and anyone how the girl had actually volunteered to clean the chuck hall before meals. She did a good job, too, making sure it didn’t need to be redone by someone else before people could eat.

Instead of Owen having to chase her down, she would find him and ask for chores to do if there was nothing obvious that had to be done. Most people asked Owen how he had finally gotten through to her. He told them he had asked what she wanted to do instead of telling her what to do.

The first day after the spanking, Owen had nearly been afraid to breathe, waiting for her to tell somebody about it. When it seemed that she wasn’t going to say anything, he wondered if she was perhaps waiting to blackmail him.

She never did say a word about it, though. She just asked for tasks and then hustled off to do them. She was still smoking, but less often. And she would hike all the way down to the road to do it. She would even ask him or his father if it was okay for her to take a smoke break first.

“Finally got her broke to saddle,” Tim said, watching Danielle wheeling a load of soiled straw out of the barn.

“Seems like,” Owen agreed.

“And all you had to do was ask her what she wanted to do?”

Owen nodded, keeping his gaze toward the barn so he didn’t have to meet his father’s eyes. The man had always had an uncanny way of knowing when his son wasn’t telling the whole truth, so the less said, the better.

“You never did get around to telling what upset Old Max so much the other day,” the foreman went on. “If he’s getting temperamental, you know that’s the kind of thing I need to know.”

“He’s fine,” Owen said quickly. “It was my fault. I brought him in for Miss Jamison to groom, but I didn’t tell her not to walk up behind him. She has never been around horses before. She scared him. He scared her. I let him run so I could calm her down.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and kept watching the barn.

“You know what city people can be like the first time. First she’s yelling about how pretty he is, then she’s yelling about he nearly kicked her. Poor old guy nearly had a heart attack, and so did I.”

“Mm-hm,” Tim said.

Owen couldn’t tell if his father believed him or not. He supposed it didn’t matter if the issue was going to be dropped.

“Well, she’s a right good worker now. I’m proud of you both.”

“Thanks,” Owen acknowledged.

Owen felt a bit ashamed and walked quickly toward the barn. To earn his father’s praise under false pretenses was worse than being punished. Danielle was just returning from the compost heap as he got to the barn door. She smiled a hello at him.

“Miss Jamison, you can take the rest of the morning off after you finish in here. You earned it.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, setting the wheelbarrow down. “You can call me Danni, you know. I keep telling you.”

“So you do.” He touched the brim of his hat, turned, and left.

Danielle watched him walk away trying not to let the surge of frustration derail her determination. It seemed everyone but Owen liked her now. What was she doing wrong? He barely talked to her, hardly looked at her and wouldn’t meet her gaze. He couldn’t still be angry, could he? She didn’t think he was. She had plenty of experience with people being angry with her so she would know.

Danielle took the wheelbarrow back into the barn and grudgingly finished cleaning the stalls. All this hard work had been to prove them all wrong, and she had done that. But she had also been doing it to make amends with Owen and he was barely paying any attention to her at all. There had to be something she could do to get him to acknowledge her again. Even, she thought, even if he was angry again.

As she had that thought, Owen came into the barn. He didn’t glance her way. He just went into the tack room, and then came out a few moments later with a saddle over one arm and a saddle-blanket over the other. She watched him walk out and sighed unhappily.

Danielle left the chore and wandered toward the office next to the tack room. There had to be some way to get Owen to talk to her again. Danielle leaned in the doorway a moment, not really seeing the room or anything in it. She wanted to think. Moving to the desk, she sat down in the chair. Idly playing with a pencil, she started opening and closing drawers. She wasn’t trying to be nosy. She wasn’t even really paying attention. Her thoughts were a million miles away wrapped up in the handsome cowboy that was ignoring her. But when she opened the bottom drawer on the left and saw the package of small firecrackers, she knew at once she had a way to get his attention again.

The firecracker package was already open and some were missing. She took one out and quickly stuck it in her pocket before closing the drawer and leaving the office. Owen had just finished saddling his horse and Danielle was pretty sure he would be taking his usual ride on the south side of the ranch. There weren’t many people around and she had gotten good at sneaking away.

Danielle hurried along a path that would get her to a spot that would cross Owen’s path. Nervous, she waited behind a tree. And finally hearing the steady thumps of hoof-beats approaching, she pulled the firecracker and her lighter out of her pocket.

As Owen came into view on his horse, Danielle hesitated. This was definitely a childish prank. But with the way he had been ignoring her despite all the effort she had been making, she didn’t know what else to do. She took a deep breath, waited for him to get a little closer, then lit the firecracker and tossed it as the horse passed by.

The sharp snap didn’t seem that loud, but the horse reacted violently. Leaping into the air, the horse twisted so suddenly that Owen had no time to control it. Throwing Owen off of him, the horse was bolting back toward the ranch before he hit the dirt.

Danielle clapped her hands over her mouth and stared wide-eyed. It hadn’t occurred to her that he could get hurt. Owen got up at once and she could tell by his expression that he was furious. As he turned to look for whoever had thrown the firecracker, Danielle ducked behind the tree.

“I reckon that’ll have to be you, Miss Jamison,” he said. She could tell by his tone that the only reason he wasn’t yelling was because he was struggling to control his temper. “Best you just come out and act like an adult, if you can.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” she said, peeking around the tree.

“I ain’t hurt,” Owen replied gruffly. “You and your childish pranks are wore out. Get over here.”

Meekly, she complied, her eyes downcast as if ashamed of herself. But in truth she only was avoiding his gaze so he wouldn’t see the hope in her eyes. He took hold of her arm.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you. Run through all your sense already?”

He expected her to resist, but she didn’t. Maybe seeing him get thrown had frightened her and now she was starting to realize it was past time for these childish antics to stop. Whatever the case, she simply bent at the waist and waited for her punishment.

“High time for you to grow up,” he told her, spanking her soundly. Danielle closed her eyes and savored the impact. It had an immediate effect on her. Her pussy lips became full. Her breath and pulse raced.

As his hand struck her ass again, she bit back a moan. A surge of juices escaped into her panties. She arched her back, lifting her hips to meet the next swat.

“Stop your poutin’, your pranks, and blamin’ other folks when you mess up.” Owen paused to take a breath as his hand connected again, and he heard Danielle moan softly. Bemused, he leaned to the side to look and saw the growing wet spot on the crotch of her jeans.

He released her at once. “Miss Jamison, I –”

Danielle realized what he must have seen and her face flushed red. She whirled away and ran. If anyone found out about this, she would just die.

Tears fogged her vision and soon she was stumbling almost blind. Nearly falling into the stream, she collapsed on the bank. She sobbed her embarrassment and frustration. She was crying so hard she didn’t hear Owen until he was right next to her.

Owen watched her a moment. Again seeing the sexy, voluptuous woman he had discovered sleeping against a boulder, he crouched beside her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Danni,” he said softly. “Come on, now. Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so tore up.”

She shrugged his hand away. “Leave me alone,” she sniffled. The last thing she needed was to have him rub it in.

“Wouldn’t be right to leave a lady in distress,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She peeked at him over an arm. Surely he was teasing her. He had to know why she was so upset.

“You don’t really think I’m pretty.”

Owen pushed his hat up a little and settled back on his boot-heels. “I don’t?”

“Nobody thinks fat girls are pretty,” Danielle said bitterly, turning her face away.

The sun was striking bright flashes on the surface of the stream, dazzling her eyes. She told herself the brilliance was what made more tears slip down her cheeks.

“I can’t say what everybody thinks,” the cowboy replied. “I know the day you showed up in those tight jeans and that low-cut blouse, I had a hell of a time keepin’ my mind on my work. And the next day, those little shorts you had on, I was wonderin’ if maybe you were tryin’ to see how much self control I had.”

“You have to be nice because my parents own the place,” she said, wiping at her face.

“I have to control myself because your folks own the place,” he corrected. “You ain’t been makin’ it easy, either.” He rested his wrists on his knees and let out a breath. “I guess we both been lettin’ things go unsaid.”

Danielle turned to look at him. When his gaze lifted to meet hers, she saw that the sorts of things he hadn’t been saying were the same sorts of things she hadn’t been saying. She wanted to speak. She wanted to put into words what she had felt when he had spanked her, but before she could, he spoke again.

“You’re a beautiful girl,” Owen said, reaching out to take her hand. “You drive me crazy some, yeah. But I like your spirit. There ain’t nothin’ I’d change about you, Danni.”

Danielle knew then there were no words she could offer that would fully express what she was feeling. So instead she started unbuttoning her blouse. He watched in silence until she started to pull it off.

“Am I gonna have to spank you again?” he asked with a smile.

Danielle’s only answer was to hold his gaze as she continued to undress. Slowly removing one article of clothing after another, she looked deep into his eyes until she was standing completely naked before him. Showing him her brave face, she never felt more exposed in her life. She ached for him to say something, anything.

Owen’s eyes left hers and moved over every inch of her smooth flesh. He explored every full, luscious curve before returning to her face. Shifting position, he set a foot flat on the ground squaring his knee.

“Come here,” he ordered.

Danielle was filled with a sudden warm rush. She knelt at once and bent forward across his thigh. Presenting her bare, round ass to him, her breathing quickened.

“Such a naughty girl,” he said, bringing his calloused palm sharply against her soft skin.

Danni gasped, her hands gripping his thigh. When he swatted her again, she moaned. He felt his own arousal intensifying.

“You like drivin’ me crazy, don’t you?” he asked, spanking her again.

She moaned. “If I say yes, do you promise to keep letting me?”

Owen groaned softly, then spanked her again a little harder. Danielle let out a loud moan and he brushed his fingertips down along the curve of her ass. She was very wet.

“Honey,” he said in a tight voice, “I only got so much control.”

“Cowboy,” she said softly, “I’m not asking you to keep it.”

With a feral growl, Owen moved his hard hands to her shoulders and pulled her up. Danielle’s heart raced as his gaze locked on hers. He kissed her hard, sliding his hands to her breasts and cupping them a moment before continuing the caress down her sides. He took one hand away to undressed himself, but kept the other on her.

When he lifted his hand to toss his hat aside, she shook her head. “Leave it on,” she said with a wicked smile.

“Pardon?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Leave it on, cowboy,” Danielle repeated, before kissing the side of his neck.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a smile.

Owen kissed her throat as he slid his hand between her legs and found her clit with his fingertips. She gasped, pressing herself against him, barely able to believe this gorgeous man could be interested in her in this way. His fingers were rough with callous, a workingman’s hands, and it added to the incredible intensity of his touch.

His mouth closed over her nipple as his fingers took hold of her clit. He did not stroke or rub it, but worked it in a circle causing Danielle to groan loudly. Her hips jerked in answer and her pussy throbbed, wanting to be filled. She clutched at him as her knees threatened to give way beneath her.

Owen put his other arm around Danielle, holding her up with that easy strength that turned her on even more. He was a man who could take anything he wanted and he wanted her. She moaned, feeling dizzy as he sucked her nipple and his fingers pressed hard against her clit. She gasped as he brought his fingertips together in something too gentle to be a pinch but too firm to ignore.

“Please,” she groaned, opening her eyes just enough to look at him through her lashes.