T'was the night before Christmas....
With a sudden hankering to be spanked, Darcy Henderson figures Mitch Callaghan is the man for the job. But is she woman enough to take it?
Darcy has just discovered which bar her sexy neighour (they're the only 2 young people living in a Melrose Place-esque retirement complex for seniors) Mitch Callaghan, works at when he goes off to work every night. And it's a kink club! Her and her friends have gone for a little voyueristic fun and games but Darcy has liked what she's seen - she's liked it a lot. So much so that she stayed on after the others have left accepting Mitch's offer of a drive home. Which is just as well becasue she's imbibed one too many Callaghans (his families secret cocktail recipe)....The scene picks up after they've arrived home and they're both just out of the car.
Tonight was the first night he’d seen Darcy
in anything other than baggy clothes or her black one-piece and she hadn’t
disappointed. She was wearing some kind of leopard-print wrap dress that clung
to her hips, thighs and ass, crisscrossed her cleavage and seemed to only be
held together by a bow tied at the side.
It made him want to pull it to find out.
Her normally straight hair was a mass of
long, loose curls that fell down her back and swung in time with her hips. And
then there were those heels, lifting her somewhere closer to his own height,
although he still had her by a couple of inches.
“You know what?” She was walking again,
although not quite in a straight line. “We should go out dancing somewhere.” She
performed a sudden pirouette which would have landed her on her ass had he not
been there to catch her.
“Okay.” He laughed and tucked her into his
side as he walked with her. ‘You’ve got to be at work in four hours, remember?”
“Ugh.” She shuddered. “Should never have
agreed to take Stacy’s shift.”
“Too late now,” Mitch said as they walked
under the arch.
The aroma of hibiscus from the multiple
planters situated around the pool and between apartments, tickled his nostrils.
The twelve foot Christmas tree Mrs T had insisted he secure right in the centre
of the courtyard, rose like a giant bloody phallus. It was as out of place in the
December heat as Darcy had been drinking Callaghan’s at a fetish club.
“I’m going to come back to Fine Lines.” She poked
him in the chest as they turned towards their apartments.
“You liked it, huh?”
“Oh my God.” She looked at him with huge
eyes. “I had no idea.”
He chuckled. “Most people don’t.”
They passed his apartment as he walked her
another ten paces to her door, festooned with a lush green wreath. “Here we are.”
He dropped his hand from her waist lest he be tempted to crowd her back and do
the kissing this time. Darcy may be cute as hell when she was tipsy but there
was no way he was taking advantage of her liquored-up state.
Although, hell, if she wanted to lay one of
those messy-hot, liquored-up kisses on him then he wasn’t going to stop
“Where’s your key?”
She leaned back against the white stucco wall
beside her door, her breasts thrust out nicely. “In my bag.”
When she made no attempt to retrieve it, he took
her bag out of her fingers, zipped it open, found her keys and shoved them in
the lock. Then he reached for her phone. “What’s your code?”
“I’m going to set your alarm in case you
“Good idea.” She nodded and prodded him in
the chest again.
“The code?” he prompted as her finger took to
stroking instead of poking, brushing against his nipple.
She shot him a grin. “Six nine, six nine.”
He shot her a sceptical look. “Bullshit.”
“Nope. I swear. Sixty-nine, sixty-nine. The
year both my parents were born. Easy to remember.”
For more reasons than one. After all, what
was more memorable than one sixty-nine but two?
Mitch keyed the code in and tried not to put
Darcy and sixty-nine together in his head, a feat that was near impossible
while she was drawing maddening circles around his nipple. He shook his head
when it worked then quickly navigated to her alarm and set it for quarter past
Rather her than him. He planned to be tucked
up in bed dreaming about sixty-niners at that time.
“Okay - ” He handed the phone back to her.
“You’re all set.”
She dropped her hand from his chest and slid
it onto the phone but didn’t take it off him. “I want to do that.”
Her words slammed into his groin with all the
heat and intensity of a fireball. He’d seen plenty of people getting spanked
(amongst other things) at Fine Lines. Clearly it worked for some, and Mitch was
all for a bit of choose your own adventure when it came to sex, but he
preferred it where everyone involved got off and no one was hurt in the
“Right.” He slid his hand on her hip and urged
her off the wall. “I think you had one too many Callaghan’s. They kinda sneak
up on you.”
She draped one arm around his neck and fisted
her other hand in the front of his t-shirt as she settled against his body. Her
breasts smooshed nicely against his chest as the sugary sweet smell of
butterscotch took over from the heavy perfume of hibiscus.
His cock appreciated her move, even if it
wasn’t what he’d been going for.
“I want you to spank me.”
His cock appreciated that even more. “Oh you
do, huh?” It was hard to keep the amusement out of his voice with a serious
frown crinkling her brow.
“Because I work at Fine Lines?”
“Yup.” She gave an exaggerated nod. “And
because of this.”
She yanked on his shirt and rose on her
tiptoes, pulling his head down, going straight for the kill, sucking him in to
a kiss that was hot, deep and wet right from the first touch of their lips. Her
tongue boldly sought his and Mitch groaned.
She tasted like booze and maraschino
His hands slid from her hips to her ass,
tucking her in closer, her corresponding moan shooting like wildfire through
his veins, setting fire to everything in its path.
She moved restlessly, hungrily, tantalisingly,
against him and blood from every vital organ rerouted to his cock. If he didn’t
pull away he was going to ruck her skirt up and fuck her against the stucco and
that’d really give their neighbours something to talk about at the monthly unusual
There was a damn committee and meeting for
everything around here.
Mitch gathered every skerrick of his rapidly
diminishing self-control and wrenched his mouth away,
taking a step back.Neither of them said anything as they stared
at each other, chests heaving. It was all he could do to breathe and remain
“You need to get to bed,” he said eventually.
She nodded, her tongue running over her lips
as if she was still trying to taste him, and he nearly reached for her hip
again. “What about the...spanking?” Her voice was still breathy, her interest
clearly still piqued.
Mitch doubted she was really serious. A lot
of things that seemed like a good idea at booze o’clock soon lost their shine
when all that was left was the hangover and a huge dose of what the hell was
I thinking. A little light BDSM was one thing, but wanting her ass tanned
red like the sub on all fours at the club was another.
And, frankly, he didn’t think she was the
type. Not that there was a type— his work at the club had taught him members
of the BDSM community came from all walks of life—but he’d developed a bit of a
sixth sense since working there, and nothing about Darcy said tie me up and
spank me with a riding crop.
He doubted she’d even remember this
conversation in the morning.
“Ask me when you’re sober some time.”
He turned away then before her leopard-print
dress brought out the animal in him.