“Shoes and coat. My mom is expecting us for dinner in half an hour,” Heath says as he walks through the door the next night.

“Enjoy yourself. Feel free to make whatever excuses for my absence that tickles your fancy.”

“My mom wants you there. She was very clear that I am not to show up without you.”

“You know as well as I do that my father and me in the same space is a fucking disaster.”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I’ve been dealing with my father’s disapproval since I was four years old. It won’t be fine, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise. I’ve had a shit enough week, so there is no way I’m going to top it off by subjecting myself to his brand of criticism.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Those are the only choices you get, because we are doing this.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got for the hard way, because there’s no fucking way you’re going to get me there without working for it.”

“As you like.”

The next thing I know, he’s got me over his shoulder and we’re cruising through his apartment. And this whole caveman routine of his is making me feel inappropriate things in even more inappropriate places.

We stop in the living room and he offloads me so I’m leaning over the back of the sofa with one of his hands pressing on the back of my neck, forcing me to stay put.

“I’m not sure I’m sorry you decided to be uncooperative tonight. At least you dressed for the occasion.”

Using his other hand, he flips my skirt up over my hips, then yanks my panties down to my mid-thigh.

“Your orneriness is going to make us late to dinner, and if we’re going to be late, I’m going to make sure I enjoy the reason.”

“Asshole.”

“No, just mostly asshole, and to prove it, I’ll let you have a little warm up before I belt the contrary out of your ass.”

“Bring it on.”

The words are barely out of my mouth when he hits my ass and thighs in a stinging series of slaps that make me embarrassingly horny, and I try not to squirm and draw attention to the situation.

When he stops, he rubs his hand over my skin.

“Georgia…? Did that spanking make you wet?” His hand slides down to my thigh.

“No.”

“You really won’t like what happens if you lie to me. So, I’ll ask again, Did that spanking make you wet?”

He slips a finger between my legs. “Answer me, or I will take your silence as a lie.”

“Yes,” I squeak.

“Good girl.” His hand comes off my neck and his belt buckle jangles. I squirm and my pussy clenches in anticipation of his cock filling me.

Instead his hand returns to my neck and line after line of fire lands on my ass.

When it finally stops, Heath folds his body over mine, grinding against my burning skin as he reaches around and slides a finger through my folds.

“Trust me when I tell you we’re going to be revisiting this whole business as soon as we get back.” He stands up and gives my ass another hard slap. “You’ve got five minutes to get yourself ready to walk out the door, or I can promise you, what comes will not make you wet and needy.”

By the time we pull up in front of my father’s house, my arousal has been completely replaced by dread. I wasn’t making excuses earlier, I absolutely can’t handle a confrontation with him.

When Heath kills the engine, he turns to me and takes my hand. “It will be okay. I promise.”

I think he’s full of shit. “Just don’t leave me alone with him. Not even for a second. Promise?”

“Promise,” He says, patting my hand.

Frances has the door open by the time we make it up the front stairs.

Heath gives his mom a big hug. “Sorry we’re late.”

I cut in before he has a chance to explain. “Actually, it’s my fault,” I say, avoiding Heath’s gaze. “I took too long to get ready. Sorry.” Not a lie. Not really. Just not the whole truth. Not that it matters anyway. My father will one-hundred-percent blame me.

“Good heavens, it’s only a few minutes. Nothing to be concerned about,” Frances says as she pulls me in for a hug. I hug her back and let myself feel good until tears threaten. I pull away and wait for Frances to usher us inside.

She takes my coat, and I find it really weird having a virtual stranger hang it in the hall closet of my childhood home.

“Heath, my boy, how are you?” my father booms as we enter the living room.

And there it is. The penis factor.

“Great, thanks. And you?”

I’m not sure what I find worse, my father berating me or actively ignoring me.

Before my father answers, Frances places a hand on my shoulder. “Georgia, can I get a hand in the kitchen?”

Feminist me is highly irritated at being the one who’s tapped to help with the domestic chores, but four-year-old-Georgia wants some mother time—even if it’s someone else’s mother.

“Sure.”

When we get to the kitchen, Frances pulls me in for another hug. “Sweetie, I didn’t bring you in here to help. I just wanted to give you something, and I thought you might appreciate not having an audience.”

She lets me go, pulls a wrapped package from a drawer in the island, and hands it to me.

I don’t know how to react. I really can’t remember the last time I had a present to unwrap.

At least I remember my manners. “Thank you.”

“If you’d rather open it by yourself later, I understand.”

Somehow, I know that’s totally the wrong thing to do, even though it’s exactly what my mind is screaming for.

“No, I’d like to open it now,” I say. The paper is a gorgeous turquoise and purple paisley that looks handmade. It would be a shame to rip it, so I start carefully picking at the tape with my fingernail.

Moments later, I’m looking at a silver frame holding a copy of the photo of my mom and me.

I’m so overwhelmed, I flee to the powder room off the kitchen and let the tears flow as I clutch the photo tight against my chest.

Seconds later, there’s a quiet knock on the door. “Georgia, can I please come in?”

I unlock the door and open it slowly. Frances pulls me into her arms and just lets me cry.

“You let it all out, sweetheart. I know you’ve been holding back some pretty big feelings for a long time. I’m never going to replace your mother, and I’m not going to try. But I promise you, I’ll be here for whatever you need.”

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Heath found the pieces the night of the break-in. I saw the photo he’d put together with the pieces he’d found.”

“How did you find it?”

Frances smiled wide. “I had a little chat with your dad, and we searched all the photo albums until we found it. And with the magic of technology, I hope we’ve at least managed to give you back a little something you lost.”

“I am so touched, and I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“Honey, you already did. Now splash a little cold water on your face, and I’ll distract Heath and your dad for a few minutes while you compose yourself. Okay?”

I lean in and give Frances a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch.”

“Enough. I understand better than you might think. Give me your photo, and I’ll put it with your coat ready for you to take home later.”

I hand her the frame, take a few minutes to put myself together, and then return to the kitchen.

Frances beams at me. “Perfect timing. Go sit down, and I’ll be in momentarily with the food.”

When I enter the dining room, my father is in his customary position at the head of the table, but I’m a little perplexed to see Heath in what had been my mom’s seat. I stand awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of where to sit, and not wanting to draw the attention, or more likely the ire, of my father.

Heath catches my eye and nods toward the chair to his right. I edge around the room and gingerly take my place at the table. The pain from my earlier belting is only mildly comforted by the familiarity of my childhood seat.

“Frances told me you had a break-in at your apartment.”

Oh fuck, he’s talking to me. How am I supposed to respond without setting him off?

“She did, but the police are investigating, and I’ve been helping Georgia get things sorted out. Nothing to worry about,” Heath interjects.

What the fuck was that? The cops are doing sweet fuck all, and Heath isn’t just helping, he’s doing everything. The only truth that came out of his mouth was the nothing to worry about part.

“As long as there’s nothing untoward that can come back on the family—“

“Georgia has done nothing wrong. And I’m working on improving the security of her building.”

“That’s very considerate of you, my boy.”

If it weren’t for how sweet Frances has been to me tonight, I’d be up and out of here so fucking fast.

“I haven’t done anything extraordinary. The important thing is Georgia is safe and unscathed.”

“Dinner is served,” Frances calls as she enters the dining room carrying a big bowl of mashed potatoes and a plate of sliced roast beef.

I hadn’t realized Frances had made a full-on roast dinner, and there was no way she should be doing all this herself. I want to glare at Heath and make him go help, but that would give my father an opening to be a dick, so I jump up from my seat and follow Frances into the kitchen.

“Let me help bring the food through.”

“There’s no need.”

“I know, but let me help anyway. We’ll all get to eat sooner.”

She grins and hands me the gravy boat and a bowl filled with peas and baby carrots.