 
# Arrested by Love

## Kathryn R. Blake

#### Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Kathryn R. Blake

All rights reserved.

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No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Published by Blushing Books®,

a subsidiary of

ABCD Graphics and Design

977 Seminole Trail #233

Charlottesville, VA 22901

The trademark Blushing Books®

is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

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Kathryn R. Blake

Arrested by Love

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EBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-563-8

Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-510-9

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Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

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This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

### Contents

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Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Learning to Be Little: Kelly's Story

Other Titles

Kathryn R. Blake

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# Acknowledgments

I'd like to thank Patricia Green for introducing me to Blushing Books. Without her, this book would never have been written. My thanks also go to Bethany at Blushing Books for accepting my story, and the staff, for holding my hand through the process.

Last, but not least, I'd also like to thank my hubby, who, though he really doesn't understand the genre, goes out of his way to support me in so many ways.

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KRB

# Chapter 1

Tiffany Morgan did not need the officer behind her to yelp his siren to let her know she needed to pull over. She could see the flashing red and blue lights reflecting in her rearview mirror just fine, thank you very much. With a wince, she slunk down in her seat. She'd wished and hoped for this, except now she'd wondered if she hadn't been a little too rash with her plan.

Gazing into her side mirror, Tiffany could feel her rear end clench with dread as Officer Kyle Andrew Sinclair rose out of his car and strode over to hers. Why couldn't he be like a normal guy and ask her out? Why did he make her resort to these childish tactics to get his attention? And dear God, why did he have to look gorgeously edible in his dark-blue winter uniform and cap? Her insides gave a little flip at the thought of talking to him again. All she could do was hope and pray he'd end up reacting as pleased as she'd envisioned him.

However, this wasn't the first time she'd gotten on the wrong side of the handsome, but strict, officer of the law. And it wouldn't be the last. Although, she'd much prefer being on his good side, she was eager to have him on any one of her sides—top, back, right, or left. Just having him next to her made her knees grow weak. He made her feel desirable, feminine, and petite.

Though not terribly tall, she stood, barefoot, at five foot six, there weren't many men in town who could make Tiffany feel tiny and delicate. However, Kyle always could, and with nothing more than a crook of his finger and a single flash of his rich dark-brown eyes. Though they were hidden behind those dark mirrored sunglasses so popular today, she had no doubt they were narrowed and scowling at her.

He tapped on her closed window. Swallowing, she pressed the button lowering the thin glass barrier separating them. "Yes, Officer Sinclair?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound innocent, yet sexy.

"I believe you should know the routine by now, Miss Morgan. License and registration, please."

"Yes, sir," she replied deferentially in an effort to ease his anger a little. When she'd gotten into trouble before, she'd discovered it pleased him when she deferred to him as "sir".

Handing him the documents she had ready and available on the seat beside her, she watched as he perused them, no doubt to make sure she hadn't let either of them lapse. Forgetting such things could get her in hot water with him, too. Kyle was a stickler for following rules and regulations, which was unfortunate for her. Gazing up at his stern features, she waited, with a pasted smile and her hands folded, for him to pass judgment.

He jotted something on the pad he held. No doubt her license number. He intended to give her a ticket, except she had other plans. If she had the nerve to carry them out.

"Did you realize you were going forty-five in a twenty mile per hour zone? A school zone?" he asked in his official police officer voice.

"Yes, sir," she answered, knowing there was little point in denying it. She had been speeding on purpose in hopes she'd catch the officer's attention. Since the kiddies were all safe in school, she wasn't being reckless, just speeding. Was it possible to barely break the law?

He pushed his glasses down his nose to glare at her straight on. "You knew you were speeding?" he asked, incredulity stamped on his rugged features.

"Yes, sir," she answered, staring up at him at him with her best ingenuous smile.

Pocketing his pad along with her license and registration, he took a single step back. "Step out of the car, please, Miss Morgan," he snapped, his tone revealing barely suppressed anger.

Closing her eyes, Tiffany swallowed for courage then stepped out into the crisp January air as he'd commanded.

"Turn and place your hands on the roof of your car, please," he insisted, his palm resting on his gun.

Though she did as he ordered without comment, she thought he was carrying things a bit too far this time. What was he going to do? Shoot her for speeding in a school zone? Frisk her for hidden weapons? She gulped as his strong hands did exactly that. She arched her back, unable to suppress a small groan at the impersonal, yet strangely erotic, pat-down he gave her.

"Spread your legs, please," he commanded next, placing his knee between her thighs to ensure her compliance.

Though tempted to lean back and ride the firm thigh pressing against her butt, she restrained herself. His action hadn't been necessary, since she had no intention of disobeying him, but now her panties were soaked through. She wore a jacket and a short, tight skirt, having left her coat in the car, so it wouldn't have taken much for him to check her there, too. However, he was conducting his search in an impersonal manner. Damn him.

When he was done, he stepped back. "You may turn around," he advised, anger still simmering beneath the surface of his words.

Tiffany knew he hated it when she drove over the speed limit. He considered it reckless driving, which he refused to tolerate. She watched as he pressed his glasses back and took out his pad again.

"I'm giving you a ticket and recommending you attend mandatory driver's training, this time, Miss Morgan." Though she still couldn't see his eyes, Tiffany suspected they simmered with spirals of fury. "What you knowingly did is stupid, reckless, and unacceptable," he informed her, his tone clipped and cool.

She gazed at him through lowered lashes. He'd delivered her cue. "Um, Officer?"

One eyebrow arched above his glasses as he answered. "Yes?"

She wet her lips and gave her hips a provocative little swing. "Perhaps we could work something out, instead?"

Glasses immediately came down again. "Pardon me?"

She gazed at his crotch. The evidence he found her attractive was obvious. "Perhaps, I could find a way to ease your discomfort, and you could forgive this small lapse of judgment on my part?" She ran her tongue over her lips again, in case he hadn't gotten the message yet. Sometimes men could be a little thick.

If his eyes could physically glare daggers, she'd be one dead cookie "Are you attempting to bribe me with oral sex, Miss Morgan?" he inquired.

She gave him the most suggestive smile she had then answered, "Among other things..."

"That's it!" he growled, yanking his handcuffs out and smooshing her face against the icy cold roof of her car. Before she could even say "don't", he had her hands cuffed behind her back and was marching her over to his police car.

"Ow, Kyle. You're hurting me," she complained, struggling to match his long stride in the tight skirt and shiny black stilettos she hoped made her legs look ten miles long. His grip on her arm lightened, but other than that small concession, he was cutting her no slack. She made no attempt to resist him, since she already knew it would be useless. Besides, this was what she'd been hoping for, right?

"Get in," he commanded, pressing down on her head to protect it as he settled her none too gently in the back of his cruiser. Leaning inside, he said, "You can stew there for a few minutes and think about what you did while I decide what to do with you." Then he slammed the door.

That ominous little warning had Tiffany's backside twitching again.

Remaining where he'd put her, Tiffany fumed—in silence. This had not been part of her plan at all. She'd imagined him so overcome with passion for her he swept her up in his arms, placed her on his lap, and passionately kissed her. He was not supposed to slap handcuffs on her wrists, toss her into his car, then slam the door and lock her in.

Yeah, he might be a handsome guy and all, with muscles a girl could drool over, but he was also a chauvinist pig sometimes. She was sorely tempted to stick out her tongue at him, since his handcuffs had curtailed her ability to give him the one fingered salute, which she'd also like to throw his way. It would at least make her feel better.

Except he stood in the front of the car with his back to her, which meant her infantile gesture would be lost on him. Scowling at his rigid stance, she scrunched her nose up and stuck out her tongue at him anyway then groaned when he held up his index finger in response. One. _Oh God_. Somehow he'd seen the childish gesture and was keeping track of her infractions. She was in for it now. She slumped back against the seat and waited.

Kyle was so angry with Tiffany for her deliberate recklessness he feared he'd lose his temper with her. Rather than tempt himself further by giving her a well-deserved scolding, he slammed his cruiser's door and strode to stand before the hood of his car, where he crossed his arms over his chest and considered what he should do next.

She had no regard for her own safety. He'd known that since the summer she'd turned ten years old and went swimming in the rain-swollen Pentucket river after her parents had forbidden her to go anywhere near it. Though seventeen and little more than a kid himself, he'd managed to save her. Then, once he'd made sure she hadn't been hurt by the river's rough handling, he'd been angry enough to give her five hard swats on her pink swimsuit-covered backside. Afterward, she wailed as if he'd beaten her black and blue. He'd held her for a bit and rocked her in his arms as he quietly scolded her for risking her life until she'd calmed.

Then, putting her aside, he'd ordered her home to change out of her wet suit. He thought she'd run to her daddy and complain about what he'd done, but she hadn't. Instead, the next day she started following him around like a pesky younger sister, remaining his permanent shadow until two years later, when he'd left and joined the army to train as a medic.

He knew she'd become smitten with him, since during those two years she'd tried to get his attention, by doing stupid girly things. Still, all it took was a sharp word or look from him and she'd settle down again.

Despite her constant tailing, they had little contact with each other until she turned eighteen and he found himself rescuing her again. This time from a near rape by one of the cretins she'd been dating. Since Kyle had joined up with the police force by did the "right" thing by threatening the guy with arrest first, despite the fact he wanted to knock out a few of the idiot's teeth. However, some guys were too stupid to live, he guessed, since this drunken lout didn't have the sense God gave a peacock to lie low.

As Kyle had leaned against the door of his cruiser and listened while the moron continued to spew epithets at him that should never have been uttered in a lady's presence, he kept an eye on his watch and waited for the second hand to swing up to twelve, at which point he informed the imbecile he was officially off-duty and clocked him one, knocking him out.

He'd then gone to Tiffany, who was still crying after her attack, and picked her up in his arms to cuddle and reassure her, despite his deep anger over her complete lack of judgment in the guys she dated. She'd filled out quite nicely over the years, and he was attracted to her in a way that made it difficult to keep his distance, even though he was determined to try.

When she'd finally settled, he first made sure the loser hadn't hurt her, then he spent time talking to her. Okay, maybe he'd been lecturing more than talking, but she'd needed a good scare in his opinion. She could have been badly hurt if he hadn't "happened along". And that thought alone made him madder than a wasp with an agenda, as well as supremely protective.

Had she remained scared and tearful, he would have escorted her home after he'd finished giving her a sternly worded warning on the perils of dating guys who had more body ink than brains. However, Tiffany took extreme umbrage over his well-intentioned reprimand and began telling _him_ off for daring to lecture her. Then _she_ , in a very unwise move on her part, started shouting some of the same filthy epithets the _dickwad_ he'd cold-cocked had dared to spout earlier.

Governing his temper, and showing remarkable restraint, he'd warned her three times she was treading water in a treacherous stream. And when she topped things off by hitting him in the chest and calling him a sanctimonious bastard, he growled he had run out of patience with her. And, without warning, he'd flipped her stomach down over his lap, pushed her panties down, and administered fifteen good whacks on her bare bottom for insulting a police officer. He stopped when she tearfully pleaded out an apology and promised to do whatever he said in the future.

After the punishment was over, he made her stay in position while he spread a medicinal lotion over her bright-pink posterior. She was a fair, green-eyed redhead who bruised far too easily, in his opinion. Though the peppermint-scented emollient served to soothe and protect fair skin, it stung like the devil when first applied to paddled bottoms. God, you'd have thought he was killing her with the way she'd struggled, screamed, begged, and cried. She carried on far worse while he was spreading the creamy liquid over her curvy backside than she had when he'd punished her, and would have escaped his hold except his grip was unbreakable.

When the lotion's anesthetic properties kicked in, she calmed down and let him finish tending her, expressing her approval by giving occasional soft little moans of pleasure. Unfortunately, he couldn't help but admire her round and rosy-pink buttocks as he continued to stroke her and didn't want to stop. When his erection grew too painful to ignore, he turned her over so she could sit on his lap, but he didn't let her go. He couldn't. She was far too delicious for him to release, and she wanted to be kissed.

Kyle was all too willing to give Tiffany anything and everything she wanted. He kissed her deeply, surprising her a little when he pressed his tongue into her mouth. However, she responded with equal fervor as he praised and complimented her between kisses. She clung to him, pushing her small, though delightfully firm, breasts against his chest, and Kyle wanted so much more, despite his inner warnings against getting involved with a sexy, curvaceous troublemaker.

She was a warm armful he enjoyed kissing and holding almost too much. Still, given the harrowing day she'd had, he insisted on driving her home. She'd agreed in a suspiciously meek manner, which made him wary. Tiffany was anything but meek. He understood the reason for her uncharacteristic subservience when she asked him please not to tell her father.

Kyle had agreed, somewhat reluctantly, because he believed the older man would be hurt to learn what had almost happened to his baby girl, and also because he felt he had already seen to her punishment himself—most effectively. Seeing her to their front door, he gave her a final kiss and warned her to take care, since he'd be watching from then on. Then he'd left, vowing to put all the wayward thoughts he had about romancing the stubborn little minx out of his mind.

Despite his efforts to keep his distance, Tiffany would occasionally end up standing in front of him for something stupid or reckless she'd done. For some reason, he always seemed to be the one to catch her at her foolishness. If he didn't know she hated it when he punished or scolded her, he'd begin to suspect she was deliberately doing things so he'd catch her.

Though he found it harder and harder to maintain his distance, he always did his best to treat her like a strict older brother. Reckless stunts, anything that put her life in danger, was dealt with swiftly and harshly, usually with her ending up panties down over his knees for a firm paddling. However, he never spanked her hard or long and only used his hand.

She'd cry a little and want to be comforted afterward, and yet, over the last few months he'd begun to think she wasn't taking his punishments seriously. How could she, when he kept catching her doing reckless things far more often, the older she got? And her stunts, though not critically dangerous, were getting more and more serious.

Even so, he was sensitive to her tears and usually let her up at the first sign of them to give her a warm hug. He tried to limit the kissing, but found it difficult when she'd catch him opened mouthed and mid-sentence. Because when Tiffany put her tongue in his mouth, Kyle had a hell of a time not reciprocating. If the stunt she'd pulled was merely stupid, he'd let her go with a simple scolding and a warning if he caught her at it again, she'd be spending a much longer time over his knees.

Now, three years after he'd saved her butt from getting raped by an asshole, he'd caught her recklessly speeding—on purpose. And he was angry enough to give Miss Tiffany Anne Morgan's bare backside a lot more than a few light swats. Except Kyle knew if she agreed to the punishment he intended to propose, he would not be able to let her go this time. And though he wasn't a total _dickwad_ , he felt, deep down, Tiffany deserved someone better than him. At least until he caught her, through the reflection in his glasses, sticking her tongue out at him.

With an inward grin, he lifted his index finger to let her know he saw and had added one swat to his already mounting count. He saw her eyes widen and knew she'd gotten his message. Then watched as she slumped in his cruiser's back seat.

With a nod to himself, Kyle removed his glasses and hung them on his belt then opened the driver's side door of his cruiser. He turned off his light bar, shut the door again, then opened the back door and leaned in to gaze down at the girl he'd decided he needed to have in his life. Seeing she remained in her submissive pose, he said, "Well, Miss Morgan. It looks like you have an important decision to make."

Not liking the sound of that, Tiffany sat up a little straighter and gazed at him through wary eyes.

"Here's what I propose," Kyle said leaning a little closer to her. "You can either spend a night in jail for attempting to bribe a police officer... Orrr..." He paused for effect as she held her breath for his next words. "Or, you can spend an indefinite amount of time with your panties off, stomach draped over my knees, and your delightfully cute bottom spanked with two swats for every MPH you went over the limit, as well as an additional five for attempting to bribe me, and one extra for sticking your tongue out. I believe that brings us to a grand total of fifty-six swats," he added with one eyebrow arched.

Tiffany's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Fifty-six swats! Are you crazy? I wouldn't be able to sit for weeks. You must be a fucking pervert to even suggest such a thing!"

"Five more swats for swearing, young lady. And if I hear you say 'fucking' again, I'll add washing your mouth out with soap to your punishment."

Tiffany clamped her lips together and glared at him. Past experience had taught her he'd make good on any threat or warning he gave her, so she bit her tongue and fumed silently.

He gave his head a slight tilt. "Your little language slip brings the total to sixty-one, and I still await your reply."

Though she had deliberately sought his attention, Tiffany had never expected he'd take things this far. "You can't be serious, Kyle," she said after another long moment.

"You should know by now I don't joke about anything that threatens your life or well-being. And reckless driving resides at the top of the list."

"I won't do it," she stated, wishing she could stab him several times over with her gaze.

"Your choice, of course. However, I suspect your father will be heartbroken to learn his little girl has to spend a night in jail because she bribed a police officer with a blow job in an unwise effort to avoid a speeding ticket."

He couldn't be serious. "You wouldn't!" she spat back him.

"Oh, honey. I definitely would." He stood and placed his hand on her door.

Scared he would do exactly as he'd threatened, Tiffany called after him. "Kyle!"

He leaned in again. "I'm going to give you five minutes to think about my proposal. If you refuse to give me an answer, I will assume you wish to spend the night in jail. Unfortunately, it will mean you'll have a record, and you'll have to be finger-printed, but I've heard the cots at the station aren't _too_ uncomfortable."

Once again her temper got the best of her. "Bastard!"

He smiled. "The count is now sixty-six, honey, and I intend to start adding swats the longer you thwart me in this. So, think carefully, Tiff. You have a lot at stake here."

"Argh!" Tiffany growled at him as he shut the door. Kyle merely smiled at her then, after checking his watch, he retook his position by the cruiser's hood.

When he'd flashed his lights, Tiffany had pulled off to a deserted parking area near the school. The vacant lot meant he could dispense her punishment without attracting the attention of anything more than a few nearby birds and squirrels—no matter how much she screamed, begged, and cried. And he intended to deliver every swat he threatened.

This time he wouldn't be dissuaded by tearful pleas or cries of pain. His darling girl was going to learn there were consequences for reckless behavior and breaking the law. Although, admittedly, he had been intrigued by her proposition.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he chuckled over the memory of how surprised she'd been when he'd pressed his tongue into her mouth. She would have been at least ten times more surprised if he'd let her do what she'd suggested.

Checking his watch again, Kyle returned to the car and opened the door. "Your five minutes are up, honey. Have you made your decision?"

Watching Tiffany take a deep breath, Kyle was not surprised when she said, "Look, Kyle, I want to be reasonable about this—"

"I'm pleased to hear that," he concurred.

"However, a sentence of sixty-six swats is not reasonable by any stretch of the imagination."

He shrugged. "I guess this is where you and I will have to agree to disagree."

"It's ludicrous, insane, and totally out of the question."

He leaned in closer. "Tiffany Anne Morgan, school zone speed limits are established for a purpose, and there are penalties for violating them. Severe penalties. What's worse is the rest of this neighborhood has a speed limit of thirty-five. Even if I were to discount the school zone violation, you were still driving ten miles an hour over the limit. In the middle of January. With patches of black ice covering the road. And that, my sweet, is unforgiveable and deserving of every swat I give you." When she opened her mouth, he raised a finger to let her know he wasn't finished, yet.

"Furthermore, since your five minutes are up, I'm going to add one swat for every minute you delay in giving me your decision."

"You're insane!"

He tapped his watch. "Thirty seconds, sweetheart, and we're up to sixty-seven. Tick tock."

# Chapter 2

Tears welled in Tiffany's eyes as she glared at him, but Kyle shook his head. "Though I find your tears distressing, they are not going to sway me this time. You are going to be seriously punished today, one way or the other."

"It's cold," she murmured.

"Move over," he ordered, sliding in beside her and bringing the door to a near close. The rear doors on his cruiser did not have any handles, which meant he couldn't shut them all the way, however, he could make her more comfortable. Reaching down, he retrieved the blanket he kept in the car for the occasional victim or witness who went into shock, and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Better?" he asked, using his thumb to wipe away a couple of new tears.

"How can you be so nice to me one minute then threaten to beat me black and blue the next?" she asked with a sniffle.

"Trust me. You'll be sore, but there won't be a bruise on you."

Her head jerked up. "You plan to use that fire-in-a-bottle stuff masked as a peppermint-scented lotion on me. Don't you?"

"It'll prevent any bruising," he told her, resolved to keep that from happening.

"I think I'd rather be black and blue."

He brushed another tear from her cheek. "You might, but I wouldn't. So, you're overruled there, too, I fear."

"You don't get two votes to my one," she declared, scowling at him.

He tapped her on the nose. "In matters concerning your safety and well-being, sweetheart, you don't get any votes at all."

Giving a wince and a tiny squirm, she asked, "Can't we negotiate on this?"

He shook his head. "Not this time, I'm afraid." He checked his watch again. "You're up to sixty-eight, Tiffany. I suggest you make up your mind soon."

"I can't do it," she whined. "I'd rather spend a night in jail."

He swiped his thumb along her chin. "I understand. I don't agree with your decision, even though I do understand it," he said, giving the door a small push to open it. "You will be allowed one phone call when we get to the station. I suggest you call your dad, first. He's going to be pretty upset, I'm afraid."

He started to step out and shut the door, when she cried, "Kyle!"

Turning, he gazed down at her. "Yes?"

She crumpled upon seeing his resolved expression then started to cry in earnest. "Okay. I'll do it," she choked out.

Arching a questioning eyebrow at her, he asked, "You're sure?"

She nodded. "Could you at least unfasten the cuffs first?"

He considered it for a moment. Having her cuffed would ensure she kept her hands out of the way, but she'd struggle to get free, which could injure her wrists. He gave a little circling motion with his finger, and she obediently turned. When he unlocked and removed the cuffs, she covered her face with her hands.

Sitting beside her again, he brought the door to a near close again and drew her against his chest. "I don't like seeing you miserable, Tiff. But even though it breaks my heart, I am not going to relent on this. I will be honest and warn you it's going to hurt. A lot. And you'd best think up a plausible excuse to tell your dad why you can't sit for a couple of days. However, I can also promise your luscious bottom will suffer no lasting marks from this punishment. No marks at all, if I can help it."

"That's not comforting, Kyle," she whispered, pressing closer to him. Understanding her unspoken request, he wrapped his arms about her and held her until she'd settled a bit more.

Then gently pushing her from him, he used his best police officer arresting voice and said, "This is a punishment, Tiffany Anne. And, as such, I'm going to do my best to make it uncomfortable for you in many ways." He lifted the blanket from her shoulders and set it aside. "Now, lower your undies and place yourself in the proper position over my lap. I'm not going to help you this time. You need to do it yourself."

She covered her face with her hands again. "I can't," she whimpered.

"Yes, you can." He turned her to face him and adopted a stern expression. "Underwear down, young lady. Unless you want me to start adding swats again."

Tiffany's face crumpled, and he prepared for her to wail again, but she held it together and, with great reluctance, did as he'd instructed. When her bottom was bare, he leaned against the seat and patted his lap. "You know the position. Take it now, please."

She began to shake her head until he arched an eyebrow. Then, she let out a small sob and inched her way across the seat on her hands and knees with all the speed of a snail until her stomach was positioned over his lap. Once there, she lay down with her head resting on her crossed arms, and legs stretched out behind her. Kyle considered tucking her legs beneath his right thigh, then decided against further restraint at this time. It could well prove necessary later, since he intended to make this a long and painful session for his girl.

"Skirt needs to be raised above your waist," he reminded, arms at his sides.

After letting out another little sob, she shifted and squirmed on his lap until her skirt was raised and her bottom exposed to him, then she lay down again.

She was being a good girl, so he rubbed her for a moment in order to get her to relax a little. If she could keep from tensing her muscles, the spanking wouldn't be as painful or intense for her. However, he knew from experience, asking or expecting her to remain relaxed during a spanking was impractical.

Speaking in a low, soothing voice, he said, "You have a lovely bottom, Tiffany Anne Morgan, and I hate being so harsh with it, and you." She let out a sigh bordering on a sob, but he felt her relax.

"Good girl," he praised then, keeping to his word, he issued the command he knew would push her over the edge. "When you're ready, I need you to beg me to begin your correction."

"Kyle!" she protested, jerking her head up and tightening her buttocks with resistance.

He continued his gentle rubbing. "I'm sorry, Tiffany, but that's how it needs to be. You recklessly endangered your own life—on purpose. Therefore, I need you to admit aloud, both for yourself and me, the reason you are being punished today, and beg me to administer a well-deserved and necessary paddling to ensure you _never_ exhibit such dangerous, juvenile behavior again." Though he didn't raise his voice, he made his tone sterner with every word he said.

She collapsed down on his lap and wailed, then tried to talk between her sobs. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I promise never to break the speed limit again, but please don't make me beg you to punish me. I can't. It's too humiliating."

He didn't say anything for a moment as he continued to rub her until she settled a little more. Then he asked, "Tiffany, do you accept I only want you safe?"

She nodded.

"Verbal acknowledgement, please," he reminded.

"Yes, sir," she conceded a little wetly.

"Do you know what you did wrong, and what I am punishing you for?"

"Going over the speed limit?" she murmured, beginning to relax again.

"No. That's not it."

"Driving recklessly?" she offered uncertainly.

"That's part of it, yes. And why do you think I consider your recklessness to be bad?"

"Because I could get hurt. But, Kyle, forty-five miles an hour isn't terribly fast. It's not as if I was driving ninety through the middle of town."

"Tiffany, are you going to argue with me about this?"

"No, sir," she answered a little sullenly.

"Smart choice. Given I am concerned for your safety and feel you endangered your life with your shenanigans today, do you believe my punishment fair?"

She gave a little snort, and he responded with a light smack on her buttocks.

"Ow," she murmured, turning to scowl at him.

"That, sweetheart, was a love tap compared to what I'm about to give you. Answer the question, please."

"Truthfully, I think the number is more than a little harsh," she admitted, putting her head down again.

Though Tiffany was no longer crying, Kyle knew her relaxed state wasn't going to last long. "Perhaps you do think it's harsh, but, as I said earlier, the number is not negotiable."

She glowered at him again. "Yeah? Then what, in your opinion, is negotiable about this, Officer Sinclair?"

"From your point of view? Absolutely nothing. However, since you seem to have trouble grasping this, I will outline my reasons again. You sped twenty-five miles per hour over the limit in a school zone on ice-covered streets. And you did this in the hopes of gaining my attention. Once you got it, you attempted to bribe me with sexual services in order to avoid getting a ticket. Considering those things alone, sixty-eight swats on your bottom with my hand is light compared to what I ought to be doing."

He stopped and took a deep breath. Getting riled with her was not going to help the situation at all. After a moment, he added, "No doubt you'll have trouble sitting for a few days, but given the alternative consequences of your action, if you had lost control of your car for even a second, I believe a sore bottom is a small price to pay." He waited for a beat then added, "I await your humble request for me to begin your well-deserved punishment."

She let out a small groan then said, "I regret my childish behavior and reckless driving, Officer Sinclair. And ask that you please proceed with my punishment."

It wasn't begging, exactly, but Kyle took it as permission to commence. Holding her in place with his left hand, he began to count out each swat he delivered at a firm, steady pace. Though he took care not to hit her too hard or in the same place too often, his swats were heavy-handed enough that by the county of thirty, his palm stung, and her butt cheeks were bright pink.

Though she cried out in protest with every swat, and bucked a few times during the first twenty, she refrained from calling him any names out loud. However, he suspected she whispered them between gritted teeth.

He'd laid out the rules of this particular punishment beforehand, and she knew if she made any attempt to block his swats or insult him, he'd add one stroke as a penalty. However, when he called out thirty-one, she begged him to stop and threw her hand back to protect her sore rear end.

With a shake of his head, he drew her arm up and out of the way then repositioned her until her legs were firmly restrained by his thigh.

"No!" she cried out.

"You know the rules, Tiffany. You are being restrained because you broke them, and you will receive one extra swat for moving your hand in my way." Then he grimly continued carrying out her punishment.

At forty, she was crying so hard her pleas for him to stop emerged as little more than sobbing burbles. A part of him felt bad for causing her this much pain while another part knew if he stopped, she'd think she could weasel herself out of trouble every time with a few tears. He had to see this through to the end, though he did lighten the intensity of his smacks. He knew they still smarted since his hand pulsed with every swat he delivered, but not as badly as before.

At fifty she stopped begging for him to stop and gasped for breath as she continued to sob, and he figured she was crying too hard to form intelligible words.

By the time he reached sixty, her bottom was bright red, and she lay limp across his left knee. She wasn't sobbing, crying, or making any sound at all. Worried he'd been too harsh, he lightened the intensity of his spanking until the last nine were little more than pats on her inflamed butt.

The moment he delivered the sixty-ninth stroke, he heard her give a waterlogged sob of relief, which filled him with no little amount of relief in return.

She lay like a wilted flower on his lap with no strength left to move. Her butt was a hot, deep red and his hand smarted pretty badly, too. He suspected her nerves had shut down. When they reawakened, she would be in a lot of pain. A lot. Unfortunately, the lotion he liked to use was going to awaken those sleeping nerve endings with the effect of an electric shock.

He vacillated for about a second, considering whether or not he should use it, except he didn't like the way her flesh was turning an even deeper maroon as he watched.

Knowing she was too weak to protest anything he did, he drew the bottle he'd shoved in his pocket earlier, flipped its cap, and poured a good-sized dollop of the lotion at the base of her spine, which he hadn't touched. She gave a small jerk, and he knew it was due to the coldness of the liquid. He could have warmed it first with his hands to lessen the shock, but the cool temperature of the balm helped to ease the pain. Like an ice pack. After her brief movement, she bucked as though she suddenly realized what he intended.

"No!" she cried. "Oh God. Please no! That stuff will kill me."

Pressing down on her shoulders, he said, "It won't kill you." However, the moment the lotion touched a sleeping nerve, Tiffany arched up and screamed. She didn't buck or jerk after that, but held completely still, like it hurt too much for her to move. Then she screamed so loud his ears rang.

"Tiffany!" he yelled to be heard over cries. "Count backward from ten!" he ordered. The counting would help distract her, and it took less than ten seconds for the lotion to provide ease once he had it spread over the entire area."

Except, rather than count, she continued screaming.

Realizing yelling wasn't getting him anywhere, he lowered his voice to a murmur, kept his grasp firm and his touch light. "I know it hurts, Tiff," Another scream. "But this will help, I promise." A less frantic yell. "Count with me, sweetheart. Please." A sob. "Ten," he prompted, and she repeated it after him.

"Good girl. Stay with me. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five..."

She repeated each number, though he didn't need to go any lower than five before she lay down again with a sigh and relaxed.

"That's my girl. It's much, much better now. Isn't it?"

"Mmm." Was the only response he received from her, so he kept up a one-sided conversation as he continued to gently work the lotion into her skin.

"I know this wasn't easy for you, and it certainly wasn't easy for me. Despite our rough beginning, I'm proud of the way you accepted your punishment, Tiff. You're a brave girl, and you handled yourself like the lovely young woman you are."

She snorted but didn't contradict him.

When the color of her buttocks had gone from nearly purple to bright pink, he was satisfied the lotion had been dispersed, and though he loved rubbing her backside, and could do it all day long, it was time for her to get home.

"Okay, sweetheart. Let's get you up and dressed, all right?"

She let out a disgruntled groan.

"Yes I know you're comfortable and don't want to move, but your mom and dad are going to be worried about you if you don't get home soon." He moved his leg and shifted her until she lay flat again, receiving yet another groan of disapproval for disturbing her. "Up you go, sweetheart," he urged helping her rise to her knees. "Let's get your panties on first, okay?"

She shook her head. "Don't want to. It's gonna hurt," she protested with a pout.

Ignoring her, he reached to the floor for her discarded underwear then held them out to her. "Sit down, and we'll get these on."

"You're joking. Right?" she asked, staring at him in disbelief. "You think I can sit?"

"Yes, I do. It's going to feel a bit like sitting on a bad sunburn, but you can manage it."

She shook her head. "I don't think so, Kyle. This vinyl seat is hard, and cold."

"Tiffany..." he warned, letting her know this was not the time for her to be arguing with him.

She winced then moved very gingerly. The moment her butt hit the seat. she jerked up, tears filling her eyes. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh God, it really hurts, Kyle!"

"You want me to put on more lotion?" he asked, but she quickly vetoed the suggestion with a vehement shake of her head.

Reaching over, he gripped her arms near her shoulders then said, "There's not enough snow outside to help, and I don't have any ice, which means we've got to do this without any outside aids. I've got you, and I'll help you down slow and easy, Tiff. Come on, sweetheart. You can do it. Besides, the seat's coldness should even help."

Though she managed to sit this time, she didn't hesitate to scowl at him. "I think I hate you right now. You beat me to a pulp."

"Trust me, your lovely backside is nowhere near pulp. Let's put these on. Okay?"

She narrowed her eyes to glare at him, but allowed him to put her legs in their proper holes and pull her panties up to her knees. Then she glowered at him.

"Just a little more, sweetie. Raise your hips. That's it." Despite her loud gasp and wince, he managed to slip her panties up over her hips. "Good girl." She rewarded his praise with an even angrier scowl.

"I must say, you're not acting very penitent, Tiffany Anne. I would think you'd be more apologetic."

"Dream on," she muttered under her breath, but he heard her.

He reached for her again. "Come here," he said, starting to lift her onto his lap.

"No, Kyle. Oh, no, please. Oh God! I don't think I can..."

He gently lowered her to his lap. She groaned then murmured, "Ow."

Clasping her face in his hands, he leaned forward and kissed her then drew back.

She gazed at him uncertainly then said, "More."

With a pleased smile, he kissed her again, and she let out of soft moan. Then, releasing a sigh, she rested her head against his chest.

"It doesn't seem to hurt as much when you kiss me. Maybe I could sneak you up to my room where you can keep distracting me until I feel better. I'm sure my parents won't mind."

Kyle laughed. "Actually, honey, I think they might."

She sighed, content to be held, and he was content to hold her. He placed his chin on the top of her head and rocked her.

"Ow. Ow. No rocking. Please, no rocking. Okay?"

He stilled then whispered into her ear, "I don't know if you realize this or not, but this punishment, despite its necessity, hurt me as well."

She snorted. "Yeah. Maybe. But not as much as it hurt me."

He turned her so she faced him. "More, , because I was the one responsible for causing you all this pain, and I receive no enjoyment at all in hurting you."

She scowled at him. "Why do it, then?"

He pressed a light kiss on her forehead. "Because it was something you needed."

When she shook her head and opened her mouth to refute him, he cut off further words by kissing her deeply. It pleased and delighted him more than he could say when her tongue met his in response to his kiss.

When they were both breathless, he held her. He wanted to make love to her so desperately he was positive his groin was causing him far more discomfort than her bottom was causing her. However, giving into his desires wouldn't be wise for several reasons, the first being she was too sore to enjoy it and the second being he wasn't about to deflower the woman he adored in the uncomfortable rear seat of a police cruiser.

Holding her to his chest, he attempted to get his own wayward needs under control while she rested with her head near his shoulder and toyed with the silver badge pinned to his uniform. After a moment, she gazed up at him and said, "I don't get it, Kyle. Why would you choose to punish by hitting me if you don't like the thought of hurting me?"

He met her serious gaze. "Well, first of all, I don't consider a good old-fashioned spanking to be the same as hitting." He received yet another snort in reply. "And even though I don't like to cause you pain, I also felt you needed a physical nudge to prove how serious I am about you obeying our traffic laws. I expect you to be much more circumspect and careful in the future. That means—no speeding," he commanded, giving her upturned nose a slight tap.

She wrinkled her pert nose in annoyance but answered, "Yes, sir."

He gave her a nod of approval. "Good girl. The point is I believe I did what was necessary today for you to learn and remember this lesson. You aren't going to forget it soon, are you?'

Her eyes widened, and she gave a vehement shake of her head.

"No, I didn't think you would. However, if I hadn't been firm with you, the impression I left wouldn't be quite so lasting. Would it?"

He watched as her expression grew thoughtful for a moment before she said, "Perhaps. But it wasn't necessary for you to make your impression permanent, was it?"

He chuckled, pleased she wasn't as cowed by the experience as he'd feared earlier. Then he regarded her soberly. "Tiffany Anne Morgan, I would like to go out with you. Officially. On a date."

Her eyes opened wide at his words, and her small pink tongue came out to wet her lips. He groaned inwardly as he considered all the ways he'd like to play with that tongue, and pleasure her with his. Then, with a sweet blush tinting her cheeks, she murmured, "I'd like that, too."

He raised one eyebrow. "Considering it was the initial reason you were speeding in the first place, I am probably undoing all the good I did by encouraging you in this manner." When she flashed him a sexy smile in reply, he groaned and kissed her again then put her aside, careful to place her gently on the seat, before he stepped out of the car to adjust his increasingly confining trousers. With a quick glance, he could tell by her worried grown his brusqueness had unsettled her a bit. Then again, if they continued the way they were going, he feared he would do the very thing he struggled not to do.

She focused her gaze at his crotch and said, "From that tent in your pants, I'd say it was pretty obvious you are attracted to me in some small way..." He grimaced at her use of the word small but let her finish. "I'm clearly willing, so why push me away?"

He stretched out his hand to help her out. "I'm not pushing _you_ away as much as I am attempting to exert a little control over _myself_."

She accepted his offer of help then asked in a small voice, "Don't you want to make love with me?"

"Oh, honey," he answered, drawing her close. "You have no idea how much I would love that. But this isn't the time, or the place. So, would you like to go out on date with me this Saturday?"

At her pleased nod, they set the time he'd pick her up, then he escorted her back to her car.

# Chapter 3

Kyle treated Tiffany like a princess for the next three months. On their first date, he came to the door in a finely made suit, carrying a corsage, which he gave to her. Tiffany didn't think men still gave women corsages, and yet it was such a romantic gesture she felt like he was taking her to their high school prom.

He acted so old-fashioned and formal, even her father was secretly amused when Kyle promised to have Tiffany home no later than eleven o'clock. Tiffany wanted to remind him she was twenty-one years old, and her parents did let her stay out past midnight without grounding her, but she held her tongue. Something told her, given the way he was acting, he'd scold her for being disrespectful if she said something that sarcastic.

For their first "official" date together, Kyle had selected A Night in Paris as their restaurant. It was one of Tiffany's favorites, since she loved French cooking—though she shied away from it when on a date because of all the garlic. However, if they were both eating it, perhaps it wouldn't be too bad.

Afterward, he took her dancing at the Regency Ballroom. The establishment pretended to be an American Almack's, but the kids who ended up there took over the music by 10:00 p.m. and bribed the live band to drop the waltzes and go for something a little more contemporary.

Kyle frowned when Tiffany started gyrating to "What's Love Got to do With It", before he reluctantly joined her. Given how stiff he acted at times, Tiffany decided he needed to loosen up a bit. She wanted him to kiss her tonight, not give her a peck on the back of her hand, which was far more likely if all they did was waltz together.

Even so, there was a lot to be said for slow dancing. She loved resting her head against his firm chest with her cheek pressed a little above his heart. Feeling secure and cared for, she would wrap both her arms around his broad shoulders as they swayed to the music. She loved the way his shoulders appeared sharp and disciplinary in his uniform, however, she practically drooled over the way this silky suit draped his upper body, as though tailor made for him.

Holding her close, almost in a cuddle on the dance floor, he handled her gently but with the firm assurance of a man who knew how women liked to be touched.

He danced with both hands resting at the small of her back, and his arms encircling her waist. Not so tightly she couldn't pull away if she wished to, and yet with enough pressure to let her know he was there and he would and could protect her if it became necessary.

Those same hands had severely spanked her a few days ago. She'd appreciated their firm strength then, but now she luxuriated in the way they rested against her, right above the area he'd thoroughly punished when he took her over his knee. His firm domination combined with his gentle handling had her panties so soaked, she was afraid she'd end up embarrassing herself.

When he'd determined their date was over, he took her home, gave her a warm and sexy kiss at the door, then, after waiting until she was safely inside, he bid her parents a good evening and left.

Even though Tiffany didn't want to admit it aloud, she realized she'd fallen head over heels in love with Kyle the first time he'd spanked her, when she was ten. Once she realized he intended to paddle her, she'd been angry and outraged over his domineering stance and attitude. She wasn't his little sister, and he had no right to spank her.

She'd wailed and cried, and even threatened to tell her daddy about his mistreatment of her. Except she wasn't that badly hurt. Only her pride was. He'd cared enough to risk punishing her for having endangered her life. And even though the spanking was painful, his cuddling and reassurance afterward almost made the punishment worth it. Enough so, she'd occasionally test him to see if he'd do it again. Much to her surprise, delight, and occasional dismay over her sore backside, he'd see to it she had trouble sitting down if her actions posed a hazard to her safety or well-being.

He was a dominant alpha male, which annoyed her at times, especially when he found it necessary to lecture her. But those same protective traits attracted Tiffany to Kyle. Okay, not so much the lectures, perhaps, as his quiet strength and demonstrated ability to look after her. She'd felt the power beneath those muscles many times when he'd carried her out of harm's way as if she weighed nothing.

True, she wasn't exceptionally heavy, but she wasn't a light weight by any means, either. However, it was the lengths she was willing to go to get his attention that got her into serious trouble with him.

Except, since they were dating now, Tiffany no longer had to sink to those extremes for Kyle's attention. He gave it to her unstintingly. When they were together every bit of his attention was focused on her, as if she was the only other person in the world. It was a heady feeling, and a little embarrassing at times when he'd probe her with personal questions because she was acting bratty, cranky, or out of sorts.

In the four and half months they'd dated, he hadn't spanked her once. Possibly because she hadn't given him cause to. When she hurt from her period, he'd confirm with quick efficiency the reason for her snapping at him then comfort her with lots of kisses and a warm hand on her tummy to ease the cramping. It worked better than ibuprofen.

The longer they dated, the more Tiffany wanted Kyle to make love to her. Except he was insistent on being a gentleman about it. He'd kiss and even pet her until her toes curled with pleasure, but he wouldn't consummate their relationship by claiming her virginity. Though he wasn't a prude about sex, since he most willingly gave her many orgasms—sometimes with his talented lips and tongue, and even more often with his long, probing fingers.

Tiffany wasn't a total innocent. She recognized from the erection he almost constantly sported that he desired her. She also knew for a man to remain as erect as a flagpole, and not do anything about it, could keep him in an uncomfortable condition. But, no matter what she did, he refused to cross that final barrier to penetrate her. What's more, he became a trifle testy over the subject when she attempted to press him on it.

Finally, she offered to ease him with her mouth, and after giving her a look that showed he remembered her offer a few months earlier, he relented. He wouldn't ejaculate into her mouth, though, however much he may have wanted to.

After going out every Friday and Saturday and seeing each other on Wednesday night for four and a half months, Tiffany confronted him when he refused once again to make love despite her pleading. She was horny, and though his fingers felt wonderfully soothing against her most intimate place, she wanted more. She wanted him, and she let him know what she wanted by pulling his hand out of her panties when they were necking in the backseat of his car, and said, "What exactly do you want from me, Kyle Sinclair?"

His expression of surprise at her sudden attack was priceless and would have made her laugh if she hadn't been so frustrated with him. "What do you mean?"

"We've been dating, and necking and petting, but we aren't moving anywhere. You never take me to your place. We only sit in the car, fondling and getting each other so worked up until I am ready to scream." His eyebrows arched up at he words because she actually had screamed a couple of times when he'd pleasured her, except that wasn't her point. "So, what exactly am I to you? Some girl you can pick up and play with a bit on the weekends? Or do I mean something more to you?"

His eyebrows came low and together, a sure sign he was beginning to lose patience with her. "What do _you_ think, Tiffany?"

Yeah, he was angry. Then again, so was she. She wanted more, but he seemed happy to keep doing what they were doing until they were wearing shawls and sitting on rocking chairs. "The point is, Kyle, I no longer know what to think about what you want out of this relationship, which is why I'm asking you."

He sat up straighter then, and gazed down at her. Their height difference was enough to make her retreat anytime he used it in a slightly intimidating manner. And the glimmer of anger shining in his eyes had her slinking down in the seat and lowering her gaze to the floor. She was such a coward when he displayed a little muscle because she knew the power behind those arms and the firm strength of those hands—intimately.

After a moment, he reached out and tilted her chin up. "So, tell me, my spoiled little rich girl. Do you think you could live on a cop's salary?"

His question got Tiffany's attention right away. Was he asking her to marry him? She thought for a moment then answered with a touch of asperity, "This isn't the Victorian era, Kyle. I do work and make a pretty good salary myself."

"That's nice, honey. But, do you think I'm going to want you to work after we get married?"

Tiffany's jaw dropped as she gaped at him. Was he serious? "We're in the twenty-first century, Kyle. Don't you think it's time you crawled out of your dark little cave and came into the light of women's equality?"

He bent closer, his eyes were so focused on her, she imagined him peering into her mind. She shrank away from the simmering heat reflected in his gaze. Tiffany wasn't scared he'd hurt her. Not really. But her clenching bottom definitely respected the dominance he held over it. "Do you want children, Tiffany?"

Puzzled, she gave a slight shrug. "Yeah. Someday. Maybe after a few years."

His eyes remained fixed on her face "How many?"

"Um, kids?" she asked more than a little uncertainly. At his nod, she said, "Two or four, I guess. I haven't really thought about it."

"Well, I have, little girl. It is all I have been thinking about lately, and I do not want you working and trying to raise my kids at the same time." When she opened her mouth to refute his possessive pronoun, he added. "I've seen what double-duty does to women, and I do not want that life for you. But I do want kids. Lots of them. If you only want four, I could live with that, even though I'd like to have a lot more. So, I'd like to start as soon as possible." When her eyebrows rose, he gave her another nod. "Yes. Perhaps now you understand. I earn around 60K a year. My salary is nowhere near the 600K your dad probably makes. For us to maintain a household with children, we would have to scrimp to save pennies. Cut costs where we could. If you want to work until you're pregnant, I'll let you. However, the moment your doctor confirms your pregnancy, I would expect you to turn in your resignation and concentrate on taking care of yourself for our baby."

For second time in less than five minutes, Tiffany felt her jaw drop. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she beleaguered the fact she'd fallen for a stupid, dominant, alpha male stuck in the Stone Age.

Though his gaze had not shifted from her face for a second, Tiffany knew him well enough to realize he was waiting for her to process what he'd said. She pulled away and straightened her spine.

Dropping his hand from her chin, he asked again, "So, do you think you could live on a cop's salary?" Then waving that question aside, he asked, "Do you even think you could manage staying on a budget?

Tiffany didn't know how to respond, furious he could be so high-handed with her he expected her to roll over in submission and allow him full control. However, it also pissed her off to acknowledge he could and she would. But to have him think she couldn't be as fiscally responsible as he was, irked her to no end.

Not sure which bothered her more, his high-handedness or his low opinion of her, she replied to the one she suspected would be her biggest battle. "Look, Fred Flintstone, I'm not Wilma. I can work and take care of a family at the same time."

"Fine. We'll discuss the issue when it becomes more relevant. All right?"

She shrugged. "I guess." At least he was willing to discuss the matter, but her pride still stung over the money issue. "As for managing my money, I can live on whatever budget you give me, and have money to spare."

He appeared doubtful, and she couldn't blame him. She'd never had to control her spending before. If she wanted something, Daddy gave it to her. Not a ringing endorsement for financial conscientiousness by any means. And being the smart-assed male he was, he took her up on her challenge by telling her if she could live for one month on the amount of money he set for her, and show him how she had saved the remainder of her salary, without going to Daddy for help, he'd ask her to marry him.

As a proposal, it sucked big time.

Kyle decided Tiffany should be able to manage on one hundred fifty dollars a week. She didn't have to pay for food or rent, so the money was meant to cover her lunches with the girls and whatever other feminine doodads she wanted. He considered it more than generous. Except, for Tiffany, the dollar figure he'd set was a supreme challenge. Used to spending more like five hundred dollars a week, this budget of his put a major crimp in her lifestyle.

Realizing she had a real challenge before her, Tiffany sat in her room and made a list of what she considered to be her essential weekly expenditures: the hair salon, nail salon—manicure and pedicure—one pair of new shoes that usually were on sale during her one afternoon a week at Burman's Department Store, where she also purchased her make-up, perfume, lacy lingerie, and at least one new outfit... Oh God. Even if she stopped there, she was already twice over her one hundred fifty dollar a week budget. So, what to trim? Most of her curtailed spending would have to come from her Burman's trip. The rest of her purchases were too necessary for her to give up without feeling she'd let herself go.

Still determined to meet Kyle's challenge, she carefully watched her spending only to discover the first week she'd tried to manage her money, she ended up spending fifty dollars over her supposed allotment. Feeling like she failed Kyle in some way, Tiffany cried about it, but was truthful with him when he asked.

"I'm sorry. I was honestly trying," she sobbed out against his chest as he held her close and rubbed her shoulders.

"It's all right, Tiff. Don't cry, honey. I'm not angry." Then, tilting her chin up, he kissed her until she settled down and stopped weeping. "I don't expect you to be perfect. However, I do expect you to take this test seriously, that is if you seriously wish to marry me. Perhaps you can redouble your efforts and spend only one hundred dollars next week."

Tiffany took his warning to heart.

When she totaled her money for the second week, she discovered she was one hundred dollars _over_ budget, which, when added to the fifty last week put her one hundred fifty dollars over for the month to date. Tiffany couldn't face Kyle and tell him she'd failed again. His disappointment would eat away at her self-esteem and make her feel terrible for letting him down. From his reaction last week, she suspected he wouldn't get angry, but he would give her a lecture on the necessity of frugality as well as suggest she didn't seriously wish to be his wife. And that was one lecture she didn't want to hear. So, she gathered up her mad money stash, to see if she could make it up that way. When she discovered only seventy-five dollars in her envelope, she knew her strategy wouldn't work. Realizing there was no hope for it, she went to see her father.

"Daddy, Kyle and I are conducting a little test."

"Yes, I know, pumpkin. He told me."

"Well, Burman's had a sale on this cute little dress I really, really loved. So, I bought it, and now I'm over budget—again."

"Gee, that's too bad, honey. I suspect Kyle's going to be disappointed with you."

Yeah, she realized that, too, which made her cry.

"Come here, pumpkin," her father said, opening his arms to her. "Shh. There's no need to cry about it. I'm sure Kyle will understand, though he may insist you return the dress."

"But, I can't," she wailed "I've already worn it on one of our dates and accidentally spilled some wine on it."

"I see," he said patting her back. "The problem is, Tiffany, I think Kyle has an excellent point. It's past time you learned to manage your money. Daddy won't always be there to bail you out when you get into trouble."

She gazed at him with tears streaming out of her eyes. Her father had never before refused to give her money when she needed it. And when she needed it the most, he was going to support Kyle. "But, Daddy, I'm afraid."

Her father's brow furrowed with concern "Of what, pumpkin? Are you afraid Kyle will hurt you in some way?"

"No. I'm afraid he'll say I'm too irresponsible for him to consider marrying, which means I'd have to live with you and Mom— _forever_." Hugging her father, she gave another mournful wail.

As close as they were, Tiffany could feel her father's chest vibrate, and she suspected he was struggling not to chuckle aloud, but she didn't take offense. Even she realized she was a bit of a drama queen at times. When she pulled away to gaze at him, he smiled. "I doubt Kyle would be that strict with you, and I think you owe it to him to be completely honest."

She nodded. He was right, but being honest and forthright did nothing to solve her problem. "I've got two weeks to make it up, Daddy. I'll be careful. Can't you help me out this once?"

Patrick Morgan sighed then reached into his pocket. "You know how much I hate seeing you unhappy, don't you? And though I think you should face Kyle with the truth, I will help you. But just this once, Tiffany. And I expect you to make up the difference over the next two weeks. Understand me?"

"Yes, Daddy," she answered submissively as he handed her one hundred dollars. Her father really was a pushover when it came to her needing something, though Tiffany still loved and respected him. Rising up on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy. I really, really, really appreciate it." Then she smiled at him, so he shook his head and gave her chin a pinch.

"Yeah, I know you can wind me around your little finger, pumpkin, but I don't think Kyle is going to be that easy for you to manipulate. And though I'm sure he loves you to pieces, he could get more than a little angry with you if you lie to him about this," he warned her as he wiped away one of her tears. "I'm not blind to your shenanigans, darling. And from what I've noticed after a few of your interactions when he obviously felt you needed more than a scolding, I don't think you want to test him on this. Men are funny in some ways. They can forgive a lot. However, a lie is something hard for them to excuse."

"I'll be sure to make up the difference next week," Tiffany said, loving her father for his concern.

"Good. I caution you to tread carefully on this one, darling. I don't want to see you get hurt, but I have to say I'd back whatever punishment Kyle thought you deserved if he caught you in this lie, even though I'm partially to blame for it. So, give careful consideration to what you want to do, Tiffany."

"Yes, sir, " she answered knowing he was right, except she didn't think she had any other choice. Kyle was such a stickler about certain things, he could refuse to marry her until she could pass his test. Unfortunately, given her record over the past two weeks, Tiffany doubted this was a test she could ever pass. And she didn't want to lose Kyle over something so trivial in her mind. However, thanks to her father, she was in the black again. Though she couldn't say she was proud of what she was doing, she did feel it was somewhat justified. After all, even after they got married, Daddy would be around to help them if they needed it, despite what he'd said.

So, when Kyle asked how she'd ended up for the week, Tiffany lied then felt guilty about it. She'd never lied to Kyle before. About anything. So, she found herself avoiding his direct gaze as much as possible. From the way he gently asked if she had something to tell him, Tiffany was pretty sure he suspected she wasn't being entirely truthful with him. However, when she smiled and assured him everything was fine, Kyle told her how proud he was and then showed her his appreciation in a far more tangible way. Tiffany went to bed that night still a virgin, but a very happy virgin.

The next week, despite her best efforts to make up the difference, she was still twenty-five dollars over budget, making her one hundred seventy-five over budget for the month so far. Her father's donation helped, but even it didn't fully cover her loss. Angry with herself for her failure, she dipped into her private stash. She didn't mind forking over the money; it was the potential of losing Kyle along with his respect that bothered her.

Then she gave herself a pep talk. One hundred seventy-five dollars was not a tremendous amount. She'd worked hard to come down from her usual five hundred a week expenditure. If one looked at it that way, she'd done a pretty good job of managing her money after all. Feeling more than a little pleased with her progress, she put her failure out of her mind.

However, this time when she lied about her week's activities, she felt even guiltier, given the way Kyle effusively praised her. She got so angry with herself over her deceit, she almost failed to come when he used his talented tongue to bring her to orgasm. She could tell by the way he carefully regarded her he was suspicious something was up. Usually, Tiffany practically orgasmed when Kyle crooked a finger at her. So, for her not to go limp after he'd pleasured her was not only unusual—it was unheard of. Seeing his frown, and wanting to avoid any questions, she brightened her smile and pretended all was right with the world.

When, by the end of the fourth and final week, she was short again, she cried in her room for her failure. Her overage wasn't too high this week, only thirty-five dollars. But, when added to her deficit, even that small amount put her $Two hundred ten dollars over for the month. And that made Tiffany's stomach churn. Though she was able to make up the difference again by syphoning a few extra dollars from her paycheck, her accomplishment felt hollow. She'd flunked Kyle's test and had made things worse by lying to him. Except she was in too deep to tell him the truth.

When she told him again that she'd met his requirement, he drew her into his arms. "I'm so proud of you, Tiff. I thought it would be much harder for you than it was, but I had every faith you would try your best. I was so confident, I got you this."

Dropping down on one knee, he held up a small velvet box for her to open. Tiffany winced. Pretty sure she knew what she'd find inside, she opened the box and stared down at the most gorgeous engagement ring she had ever seen, because he had bought it for her. Feeling more miserable than ever, Tiffany returned the box to Kyle and promptly burst into tears.

# Chapter 4

Kyle promptly rose to his feet and drew Tiffany into his arms. He was being so romantically sweet and understanding she couldn't help sobbing out her misery against his chest.

"Shh, Tiffany. What has you this upset, honey? If you don't like the ring, we can exchange it, but don't cry, sweetheart. You'll make yourself sick.

Feeling like a treacherous, lying bitch, she sobbed out, "It's not the ring. It's beautiful, and I love it."

"Then what is it, darling? Did your period come early this month?"

_Oh God, he even kept track of that?_ Tiffany was so tempted to use the excuse, she nodded. However, vowing to never lie again, she wailed, "No." He'd been generous with his praise and loving enough to propose, which made her feel like a total cheat and a failure. Almost like she'd been unfaithful to him.

As her sobbing grew worse, he lifted her into his arms and carried her outside where he held her on his lap on her backyard glider. It was big enough for three grown men to sit on each side and had a gentle rocking sway to it. Comforted by the man holding her, she clung to his shoulders and sobbed her heart out.

Kyle had no idea what brought on this deluge of unhappy tears, but knew he needed to get Tiffany calmed down soon, or she would vomit from pure stress. So, he rubbed her back and talked softly to her.

"Tiffany, whatever it is, honey, it can't be that bad. Nothing is worth all these tears. Calm down, sweetie, and listen to me. I love you. If you're worried you've done something to change that, I can assure you it won't. Nothing will change what I feel for you, even if I get angry about what you did."

When her crying subsided a little with his words, he gathered he'd come close to the problem. She was worried she'd done something that would make him push her away, and only one thing would make him do that. So, he began a process of elimination through a series of carefully worded questions once her sobbing lessened to an occasional catch for breath.

Placing his chin on top of her head, he said, "What is it? Did someone upset or hurt you in some way?"

"No." A sniffle.

"Did you do something to upset yourself?"

"Yes." Another sniffle.

"Can you tell me what you did?"

A sob. "No."

"Shh .That's enough, Tiffany Anne," he said, trying to be firm with her. "You settle down and talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, so why are you afraid to tell me what it was you did?"

"Because you'll never forgive me, and you'll hate me forever."

Though she was being a little overdramatic about it, Kyle began to suspect the worst. Bending closer, he confessed, "Unless you've murdered someone, sweetie, there isn't much else I wouldn't forgive. And I'd probably forgive that too, if the homicide was justified."

He thought his teasing would make her laugh, and was confused when she sobbed even harder than before.

"Shh. I was teasing, Tiff. This is way beyond any crying you've done with me before. Even when I paddled your fanny. I hate to say it, Tiff, but I'm beginning to suspect you've been untruthful with me about something."

When she didn't deny it, he became convinced she'd been seeing someone else. His heart lurched at the thought of losing her, but he refused to make things even more difficult by giving vent to hurt pride. Unable to hide his feeling of betrayal, however, he asked more than a little grimly, "When did it happen, Tiffany Anne?"

She winced. "Four weeks ago, when we first started our test. I'm sorry, Kyle."

With a nod, he lifted her off his lap but evenly met her gaze when she clutched his arm. "Please. Don't hate me."

He ran a calming hand through her hair. "I could never hate you, Tiffany."

When she clung to his arm and sobbed, he pulled free to wrap it around her. "Can you at least tell me who he is?"

She straightened at his question to give him a puzzled look. "Who who is?" she asked, using the facial tissue he'd handed her to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

"The guy you want to be with instead of me."

She scrunched her cute little nose up and shook her head, so he turned and faced her. "You've met someone else, and you want to break up with me. Right?"

"No!" she denied.

"No? Then what's this all about? What happened four weeks ago to cause all this flooding if it isn't another guy?"

Her expression cleared with understanding. "Oh. You think..." Then with a swallow and a wince, she said, "There's no one else, Kyle. Just you."

He let out a sigh of relief, unaware he'd even been holding his breath. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, sweetie. Except now I'm more confused than ever."

Her shoulders drooping, she laid her head on his arm. "It was stupid of me to cry over nothing. Just forget it."

Kyle shook his head and lifted her chin. "Unacceptable, Tiff. I refuse to start out our life together in this way. A few seconds ago, you were devastated by something and sobbing in my arms. And now you're trying to tell me it was over nothing. Sorry, honey. Not buying it."

She drew away from him as though she needed the distance to tell him. "Promise you won't get mad?"

He shook his head. "No, I can't promise that." When she clamped her lips together, he added, "All right. I've had quite enough of this, Tiffany Anne. I want you to tell me what happened, and right now!" It wasn't a request.

"It's not what you think," she assured him.

"I believe we have already established that, Miss Morgan. I want to know what you did, which even the thought of telling me got you so upset you dissolved into tears.

Kyle watched as she slunk down a little more, as if she wanted to make herself smaller. Less of a target, he supposed. She'd done something he wasn't going to like.

"Can I plead the fifth?" she asked in a small voice.

He shook his head, though a part of him wanted to jump up and laugh with the relief he felt. If there wasn't anyone else, they could work this out—somehow. But she needed to be completely honest with him going forward. Keeping his expression stern, he lowered his voice a notch to let her know if she didn't tell him soon he was going to get seriously pissed. "Tell me what you did, Tiffany."

She winced then softly admitted, "I lied."

"I gathered as much. About what?"

She pointed to the back door of her home. He mentally retraced their steps and determined she was indicating their weekly reconciliation sheets he'd set aside to carry her to the glider Okay, this was serious. He still would have proposed, after giving her a lecture. The fact she'd lied to him about how much money she'd spent had him thinking she needed something a little more memorable than a mere "talking-to".

Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at her with open disapproval. "Tell me," he ordered.

Then, haltingly at first, she finally confessed everything she'd done, even going to her father to help make up the difference. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I did try hard, and I promise I'll try even harder in the future."

Though she appeared contrite and pitiful as she stared up at him with wide green eyes, he shook his head. "Not good enough. I think you and I need to take a short ride in the car together. Now." He spoke the words sharply to give her a clue as to his intentions.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head and shrank away from him. Kyle never wanted her to fear him. He didn't mind her being a little apprehensive at times, but not scared. However, he also wanted her to understand there were serious consequences for lying, and he intended to see she paid them—in full.

He unfolded his arms and turned to face her head on. "Very well. It would appear this is choice time again for you, Miss Morgan. Either you come with me, quietly and without fuss, or I walk away and we don't see each other for a while."

"How long?" she asked with a slight cringe.

He raised an eyebrow then gave a time frame he hoped she would reject. "A year."

She jerked to her feet with a gasp of pure outrage. "You would refuse to see me for a year because I overspent my budget?"

"No," he refuted evenly. "I would refuse to see you for a year because you lied to me and declined to accept the consequences for your deceit."

She placed her hands on her small round hips and scowled at him. "Yeah? Well, what if our situation was reversed? What would _your_ consequences be, Mr. I'm-a-police-officer-so-don't-mess-with-me Sinclair?"

"Since that is hardly the case, I don't believe the question is relevant, and—"

"Maybe not. All the same, I'd like to hear your answer. You are eager enough to use your strength against me. What could I ever do if you were the one in the wrong?"

He rose to his feet and stood over her. "You could do exactly what I'm about to do. Walk away."

"No!" she cried, clutching at his arm.

Keeping his expression stern, he gazed down at her. "I believe you are not truly sorry for what you did, Tiffany Anne. If you were, you would be doing your best to make amends to me rather than argue as if you were the injured party. Perhaps it is best we separate for a while, after all."

Yanking his arm free of her grasp, he started to walk away, but stopped when she cried, "All right! I'll go with you."

He turned around to glare at her. "That's nice, darling. Except I'm not sure I want you with me right now." He gave her a nod. "I'll see you later, when I'm not quite this angry."

Intending to leave her standing in her backyard, he still stopped when she cried out, "Kyle!"

Taking a deep breath, he faced her again. Seeing her miserable, frightened expression, he extended his hand against his better judgment. She ran to him without hesitation. Better, he supposed. But they still had a long way to go before this would be settled between them.

Kyle drove for over a half hour, taking them to a secluded spot where he parked and sat staring out the windshield for a few minutes. Tiffany sat silent, stiff and wary, though no longer crying. Unfortunately, he knew her silence wouldn't last long.

Wanting to be alone to get his thoughts and emotions together, he turned to her and said, "I want you to get out of the car and walk over to the willow to select and prepare an appropriate switch. It needs to be about a half-inch thick and flexible. Once you have completed your task, I want you stand by that log and wait for me. Do you understand what I am asking?" At her small nod, he said, "Then follow my instructions, please."

She slowly opened the door of the car, clicked it shut then walked over to the tree he'd indicated. He watched her run her fingers along each branch, testing for the one she'd choose, and knew she'd started crying again. He shook his head. He loved her with all his heart, but he couldn't let her get away with lying to him. Not if he ever hoped to be able to trust her again.

He waited until she'd selected her branch, picked off all the leaves then tried it out. He could hear the whip sound and saw her wince and close her eyes. She took a deep breath then walked over to the log he'd indicated, stood with her back to him, and waited. He knew from experience the waiting was the worst, and he also knew from the way her shoulders shook that she was crying, probably as much from guilt as from fear. He didn't make her wait out of cruelty. He wanted to make sure he was fully under control before punishing her. Whether or not he chose to use the branch she'd prepared was another matter. He had no wish to cause her injury, only to teach her a lesson. So, he still needed to decide on the best way to accomplish his goal. What would make the most indelible impression on her devious little butt? What would make her truly regret what she did and ensure she never did it again?

Grabbing the bottle of lotion he kept in the car, he shoved it deep inside his pocket. She hated it, but it helped reduce the impact of his chosen punishment, so she would have to accept it. It also meant he could do nothing to break her skin. Not that he wanted to, but if he tried to rub the lotion on an open wound, she'd be screaming through next week. Opening his car door, he got out and walked over to where she stood.

"Remove your skirt and underwear, please," he ordered taking a seat on the log.

She gazed at him then handed him the switch she'd made. He tested it a couple of times while she undressed. Even though he'd decided against using it, he wasn't above scaring her a little before he discarded it. She stood before him in her blouse and shoes, trembling. He could also see the small patch of red hair guarding her femininity and felt a surge of lust, which merely served to increase his anger. He had hoped to finally make love to her this evening, but it appeared playtime would be off the agenda tonight as well.

He placed the switch on the ground and crooked an index finger at her. She winced but walked over to stand beside him until her knees touched his with barely a moment's hesitation. He patted his lap. "You know the drill, Tiffany. Take your position, please."

She let out a tiny gasp, and he knew she was afraid, but she also knew better than to try to dissuade him. It would appear his threat of year's separation had had its intended effect.

Lying over his lap, she gave a small sob once she was settled. He placed his left hand on the middle of her back to steady her then ran his right hand over her buttocks to settle her to his touch. She was tense, and he needed her to relax a little more so this punishment wouldn't end up being more painful than he intended. "We didn't discuss how many swats you think you deserve for what you did, Miss Morgan. What would you say is a fair number?"

Her breath coming in small hitches, she didn't respond right away. He suspected she'd go for the minimum of ten, but surprised him by saying, "Twenty-five."

"A good number," he praised, "and I concur. Twenty-five it is, then. Have you anything you wish to say before we begin?"

Another small sob, then she said, "I am sorry for lying to you, Kyle. I won't do it again. I promise."

"Yes. Well that is what I intend to ensure. Correct?" he asked, aware his voice was huskier than usual. He didn't like the thought of hurting her, and it bothered him she had forced his hand like this.

"Yes, sir," she replied, her meekness a sure sign she was feeling guilty about her actions. She only called him "sir" when she knew she was in serious trouble.

"Good." He continued to rub her smooth flesh until he felt her relax despite her unease. "This time, I want you to count each stroke out loud. Think you can do that?"

"I don't know," she admitted with tearful honesty.

"All right, I accept the task will be difficult for you. However, I want you to at least try. As a penalty, if I decide you're stalling between calling out the numbers in order to delay your punishment, I may find it necessary for us to start over again from the beginning."

She gave a small gasp at his words, but he pretended not to notice as he continued his gentle rubbing. When he still didn't begin, she asked, "Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still love me?"

"If I didn't we wouldn't be here. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I want you to take a deep breath and try to relax a little more. You're doing well, and I'm proud of you for accepting this without fuss. I know it's not easy. Now, take another deep breath for me, Tiff." She obeyed. "Good. Relax and give me all your weight. I can hold you, so don't think you're too heavy." She took another deep breath and went limp." "Very good." Then he raised his hand and brought it down hard. She jerked and cried out.

"Count, Tiff," he reminded.

"One."

He made the first ten count the most, which meant by the time she cried out the number ten, she was sobbing so hard she had trouble saying the word. He paused and rubbed her backside for a moment. She let out a small whimper of pain, and her flesh felt quite warm to his touch, but she was handling her pain well, and he was proud of her for accepting her chastisement without complaint or swearing.

"Fifteen more to go," he reminded, and received a choked sob in response. He continued to rub her for a few minutes longer, then said, "Begin at eleven, please, Tiffany," as he brought his hand down again.

He made the next ten not quite as hard as the first set. Despite easing up, he was still being far from gentle with her, since, this time he'd decided to speed up the tempo of his strokes, which also made it difficult for her to keep count with him. However, he wanted this over and done with. When she finally squawked out "Twenty," he stopped and took another break.

By then, she was having trouble catching her breath, so he bent over and spoke as near to her ear as he could reach with her lying across on his lap. "Breathe, Tiff," he urged and was rewarded with a pain-filled gasp then open sobbing. "Good girl," he praised, and he meant it.

Once she was able to speak, she kept repeating how sorry she was, and he believed her. He gave her irritated skin a minute to settle down before he started stroking her again. Though she initially arched against his hand with a small cry of pain, he knew the petting would eventually soothe her, so he kept his caresses light. Her bottom was much warmer than it had been earlier, and yet the flesh was no pinker than a light blush of embarrassment. He'd taken care not to be too harsh with her this time. Yes, she'd lied, and he considered lying a grievous offense, but she hadn't placed her life in jeopardy with her deceit.

If he'd been a little more observant, he would have noticed she'd been less than truthful with him from the beginning. And even though she wasn't a particularly good liar, he'd wanted to believe her, so he had.

Next time, and hopefully there wouldn't be a next time, he would pay closer attention to her silent signals to avoid a repeat. Although he suspected his little darling was a bit of a minx who was going to continually find herself in this position for one prank or another. This time, however, he hoped to dissuade her from ever lying to him again.

When she finally fell silent, and her breathing came in small little catches, he firmed his hand on her back. "Only five more, Tiff, and we're done. You're being a good girl, and though I am disappointed you lied to me, I am very proud of the way you've conducted yourself this afternoon."

Though his praise made her cry a little harder, he knew the words would help ease her inner pain. "Kyle?" she asked again as her body began to relax under his gentle stroking.

"Yes?" he replied, willing to wait a few moments longer before he started again.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?"

"Darling, when this is over, you will already have been forgiven. That's what this is about. Once we're done here, nothing more will be said, unless you wish to talk about it."

"Thank you," she murmured, her sincerity invoking an instinctively protective response within him. Clearing his throat with a cough, he said, "Begin again at twenty-one, please." He'd given her enough of a rest she was able to call out the next five without much difficulty, especially since he kept each swat on the lighter side. Though he knew this punishment had been necessary, he wanted it over almost as much as she did.

The moment she called out, "Twenty-five," she started to sob again, but they were tears of relief rather than pain. And though he didn't doubt she was sore, he also knew her discomfort was nowhere near the level it had been the last time they'd done this.

When she tried to get up, he held her in place. Her bottom tensing she whined, "No, Kyle. Please. I don't need it. Not this time."

"But it also helps, doesn't it?" When she hesitated in answering him, he said, "Tiffany, I asked you a question, and I would like the courtesy of a response, please."

"You took care not to hurt me too badly this time, so, I don't think it's necessary. Please, don't use it."

"I'm pleased to hear you're not in as much pain this time, except I didn't ask about your pain level, did I?" he inquired patiently. When she didn't reply, he added, "Though the lotion may smart a bit when I first put it on, it does soothe your pain eventually, doesn't it?" He knew she didn't want to admit it, since the stuff did sting. Even so, he didn't want her to think her opinion wasn't important to him, because it was.

Finally, she answered him. "Yes. I guess so, but—"

"Tiffany?"

She sighed. "I know you only want to protect my skin, Kyle, but—"

"Tiffany?" he repeated, cutting her off.

She lay down in submission. "Go ahead," she murmured reluctantly.

She tensed and cried out when he started to rub it in, and he reminded her to count backward from ten. When she refused, he gave her a light swat as a reminder he was serious and she finally did as he asked. By five she was relaxed again and only sniffling. When he was done he moved he until she sat on his lap, and with barely a wince, she curled into him, wanting his comfort as much as he needed to give it. They sat together in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Then, after insisting she dry her eyes and blow her nose, he kissed her. "You are my special, darling girl, Tiffany, and I love you. I will always love you, even when you make me angry enough to put you over my knee. However, my anger over what you do in no way diminishes what I feel for you."

He hugged her while she continued to release tears of relief. They embraced each other for about another half-hour, then he helped her dress, and holding her hand in his, he walked her over to the car. She was trotting along at his side when she realized he'd abandoned the switch he'd made her pull and clean earlier.

Halting mid-step, she pulled at his hand and stared at him. "That switch. You didn't even use it."

Though it was an obvious statement, he still confirmed it with a shake of his head then gave her hand a little tug. She followed, but from the frown creasing her forehead he suspected she wasn't happy about it. "Well, why the hell did you make me clean off all the leaves if you weren't intending to use it?" she asked, as he opened her door for her.

When she didn't slide into her seat, he glanced back to discover her standing a foot away, fists curled at her hips. She was clearly feeling a lot more self-confident at the moment, so he gave her nose a firm tap. "Language, sweetheart," he warned. When she continued to scowl at him, he relented with a sigh. "Why do you think I did that?" he asked, volleying the question over to her as he motioned her into the car.

Sighing, she lowered her arms and slid onto the seat. "Because you wanted to scare the shit out of me first by making me think you intended to whip me," she answered with a trace of petulance.

He stood outside the car and frowned down at her. "That's the second inappropriate word you've used in the last five minutes. You know I don't approve of swearing, and I believe I gave you a lesson on the very subject not too long ago, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir," she agreed, still not ready to forgive him for insisting she ready the switch.

"Do you need another reminder?"

"No, sir," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

With a disapproving shake of his head, he leaned in to fasten her seat belt, which she occasionally forgot to do. Then, since their faces were close, he couldn't resist giving her a quick kiss. She responded, though he could tell by her expression she thought he was attempting to distract her from her snit. He wasn't. Not really. But he still struggled not to smile when he gazed into her eyes and asked, "Did it work? Did you believe you were about to get a whipping for lying to me?"

She let out a soft snort followed by a light laugh. "Oh, yeah, buddy. It worked. My bottom was twitching like mad the entire time I stood waiting for you," she admitted.

Pleased she felt comfortable enough to admit the truth to him, he bent down to give her another kiss before returning to his side of the car.

Once they were both seated and ready to leave, Kyle reached into his pocket to pull out the box she'd returned to him and removed the ring. He motioned for her hand, and she gave it to him with a tearful smile. The ring slipped on—a perfect fit. Then, drawing her as close as her seat belt would allow, he kissed her. When she responded without reservation, he gave a slight cough and patted his arm to indicate she should lay her head there.

She gazed up at him with an uncertain frown. "Later," he replied a little huskily. "When you're not sore." Her smile grew, and she started to deny her discomfort, but he shook his head. "No, Tiff. I want our first time together to be glorious. I want to make you come so hard you scream. And, right now, I don't think you'd enjoy it the way I want you to."

She gave a small sigh but settled next to him without further argument. In this, they both knew he was right.

# Chapter 5

Kyle drove Tiffany home, holding her hand the entire way then, after opening her door, he put his hand about her waist and walked in with her to be at her side when she showed "the ring" to her family. Her father appeared pleased as he hugged her and shook Kyle's hand. Her mother got a little teary-eyed, and Chrissy, her younger sister, jumped up and down and screamed as she held Tiffany's hand. "OMG, Tiff! He actually did it!"

Kyle laughed, secretly pleased when Tiffany promptly returned to his side and put one arm around his waist to lean in closer to him. After drawing her near for a quick kiss, he made his excuses to her parents. Mrs. Morgan invited him to stay for supper, and so did Tiffany, but he respectfully declined. Had he been able to sneak away with her later, he might have stayed, but their change in plans bothered him enough he wanted to be alone. Still, he knew Tiffany would be especially sensitive to his mood, after everything that had happened between them, and he didn't want her to think he was rejecting her in any way.

"See me out?" he asked her in a low voice.

At her nod, they walked arm in arm to his car. "Why won't you stay?" she inquired with a small pout.

He gave her another quick kiss, "Because, my darling, I need to straighten up my apartment if I intend to bring a lovely lady up there in a few days in order to ravish her."

She giggled, as he intended, then she grew serious. "You truly have forgiven me, haven't you?"

"Yes, Tiffany Anne," he repeated for about the fifth time, knowing she was still feeling guilty, even after her punishment. "However," he added with a tap on her pert nose, "we will need to discuss your spending habits in the near future." She grimaced but nodded her agreement. After another peck on her lips, he turned her around until she faced her home and gave her a light swat on the butt to send her back inside.

"Ouch," she said, turning to scowl at him.

"Inside, young lady," he ordered, pointing to her front door.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You really are going to be obnoxious and make me agree to obey you in my wedding vows, aren't you?"

He gave a quick nod. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Then, quickly ducking into the car, he gazed through the window to see her sticking her tongue out at him. Not too cowed at all. Chuckling to himself, he gave her a brisk wave and drove off.

The following weekend, Kyle collected Tiffany around 6:00 p.m. and took her out in the country for a picnic under the stars. He brought wine, the _de rigueur_ checkered tablecloth, napkins, cheese, and a lot of finger food. The only things missing were the violins, so he propped up the small digital radio he'd packed and set it to the classical music channel.

It was a warm and fragrant spring evening in mid-May, and definitely a night for lovers. The secluded park they'd selected had received its first mowing of the season that morning, so they were surrounded by the sweet smell of freshly cut grass. A few insects chirped along with strains of Mozart as Kyle fed Tiffany bits of chicken and deviled egg. She responded by offering him much the same. In between bites of food, they sipped champagne and chatted easily.

She told him how her sister, Chrissy, had climbed out of her bedroom window to meet with a boy. Chrissy was four years younger than her, and a lot more adventurous at age seventeen than Tiffany had ever dared to be, possibly because in addition to her father, Tiffany'd had Kyle watching over her closely.

"Daddy caught her," Tiffany let him know with a smirk.

Kyle nearly choked on his champagne. "What did he do?"

She shrugged. Her father was inclined to be pretty lenient with both Tiffany and Chrissy. He would scold on occasion but never spanked them. And, both of them knew it. "He gave her a stern lecture about sneaking around then grounded her for a week."

She gazed at him through lowered lids. "I have a feeling I know what you would have done, had she been your daughter."

"You do, do you?"

She nodded, and he could tell the champagne was making her a little bit tipsy. "Yup." Flopping down on her stomach like a little girl, she gazed at him with a slightly worried frown. "I know you'd want your children to behave, and you'd never be mean to one of them, but you will take special care not to accidentally hurt any of them, won't you?"

He shook his head then ran a hand through her hair. "I would never harm a child, Tiff. Especially not one of ours. Although, if I were the sort to hurt children, you don't think I'd tell you the truth, do you?"

She shrugged then shook her head and took another sip of wine. "I guess not, though it does worry me sometimes."

Stretching out beside her, Kyle leaned up on one elbow. "What worries you, sweetheart?" he asked, enjoying the way her silky red hair flowed like water over his fingertips.

She gave a small lift to her shoulders. "That you'll forget yourself one day and lose your temper."

He lowered his hand and focused on her expression. "With you?"

"Yeah. Me, or one of our kids, when we have them."

He sat up. "That will never happen, Tiffany."

Swinging her lovely long legs around, she sat up to face him. "But how can you be sure, Kyle? You're strong, and you spank really hard sometimes. What makes you think you won't lose your temper with me one day?"

He placed his elbows on his thighs and gazed at her. "How angry do you think I was last week when you confessed you'd been lying to me for over a month?"

She rolled her eyes. "Angry enough I was afraid you'd leave me."

"But when I didn't. When I reached for your hand... were you afraid I'd physically hurt you?" He watched her needing to think about his question for a moment, and that worried him.

"I'm not sure. I mean I knew you were really, really mad at me, except you treated me with a _cold_ determination __ rather than a _hot_ anger. You seemed in control."

"And when I pulled you over for speeding in January. What did you think then?"

She grimaced. "Somehow you seemed even angrier. The way you glared at me when you gave me the choice, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sit for a week."

"And how sore were you afterward?"

"Pretty sore," she confessed. "I had trouble sitting until the next day, and I had to sleep on my stomach."

"Do you think I lost my temper with you, then?"

She shook her head and stared down at her glass. "No. You were pretty much in control then, too."

"Have I ever lost my temper with you?"

He could see her seriously considering his question for a moment, so he waited.

"No. I guess not," she admitted finally. "However, there's always a first time."

"True... I could haul off and punch you in the face right now."

She scowled at him. "I know you'd never hit me like that," she answered with great certainty.

"Why not? I mean how can you know?"

"Because it's not your style. You've never hit me anyplace other than where I sit. You even told me hurting me isn't your objective. And I believe you, though I'm still not sure I understand the difference between spanking and hitting. However, when given the opportunity, you didn't take that switch to me last week, and I think it's because you were afraid it might hurt me too much. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are."

"All the same, I want to be truthful with you, Kyle. I've been having bad dreams where you've tied me down and taken a whip to my backside."

Kyle recoiled at her confession. He never expected his actions would cause her nightmares. "I'm sorry to hear that, Tiff. I never want you to think I'd ever hurt you, or do anything more than spank your butt until you had trouble sitting for a day or two."

"Yeah, I know. And yet it still scares me sometimes."

Nodding, he put his glass down then said, "Well, I think we need to do something about that. Don't you?"

She shrugged. "What can we do?"

"Several things, honey. First of all, I want to give you a safe word. It's a word you can use if anything I do scares or hurts you so badly you need me to stop. No questions asked."

"Okay, but why now? Why haven't you given me one of those before?"

"Because I never thought you needed one. However, if you're having bad dreams, I guess you do."

She frowned. "How does it work?"

"You say the word, and everything stops. However, it is not to be used lightly. If I suspect you aren't truly scared or hurt when you use it, I won't be able to trust you, which, I think you'll agree, would be a bad thing."

She nodded slowly. "So, what's the word?"

"It needs to be something you wouldn't normally say under the given circumstance. That means it can't be 'stop', or 'don't', or 'please', or any sort of expression of pain, like 'ouch'. It could be your favorite color, dessert, fruit, anything you want, but it needs to be short and easily said."

"Apple?" she suggested.

"Apple would work just fine. Though it has two syllables, they are easy to get out, even if you're crying."

"Your response doesn't sound very reassuring, Kyle."

"Perhaps not, but isn't that one of your fears? You are crying so hard you can't tell me how much pain you're in?"

"I guess. It's more that I'm afraid you'll get carried away to the point you won't stop, no matter what I say."

He nodded. "Okay. Even though I think I've shown such an event won't happen, let's do this. For the next two weeks you can say 'apple' anytime you want, and I promise to stop whatever I'm doing so we can talk about it. When you're convinced your safe word will provide you with the security you're seeking, I'll want you to agree to only use it as it's intended to be used. Deal?"

She gave a halfhearted nod. "Yeah. I'm not quite sure what the word will prove, but I'm willing to give it a try."

He smiled then bent forward to kiss her. "Good girl."

Then, moving slowly in order not to scare her, he eased her down to the checkered cloth and whispered. "I would very much like to make love with you, Tiffany Anne Morgan. Would you like that as well?"

Giving him a soft, sexy smile, she nodded then pulled his head down to kiss him.

Careful to take his time to bring her the most pleasure, he began by kissing the most sensitive spots on her body as he undressed her, pleased when she responded with soft murmurs of consent as she worked to undress him. He wanted her to enjoy touching and looking at him, so he encouraged her to do both as much as she wanted.

When his shirt was off, she slipped her hands along his ribs then ran her tongue over his nipples. He groaned as pleasure from her hot little tongue shot straight to his groin, and raised his hips to ease the discomfort caused by the confinement of his trousers.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked with a worried frown, and he smiled at her innocence.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. Just the opposite in fact. Having you touch me is very, very pleasurable," he murmured before lowering his head to gently sucked her breasts. Her hips jerked in immediate response, and she moaned. Without her asking, he knew she wanted him to kiss her between her legs as he had before.

Helping her remove the rest of her clothing, he gave her what she wanted, loving the sweet taste that was uniquely hers. She clenched his hair in a nearly painful grip as he paid special attention to the small sensitive pearl beckoning him. After his tongue paid proper court to the small morsel, he used his teeth to coax her to a climax, which he tasted as she screamed his name.

Gentling his touch, he lapped until he felt the tiny spasms of her orgasms fade off, and she sighed. He grinned at the expression of pure bliss on her face.

While she lay on the cloth, with every muscle relaxed, he finished undressing. He was lowering his jockey shorts when she opened her eyes and gasped.

"Kyle..." she murmured uneasily.

"Yes, darling?" he answered, getting down on his knees between her legs, surprised when she scooted away from him.

"Um... I didn't know. I mean I never realized... I imagined you were big, but... Oh God. You'll never fit inside me without tearing something. I know it."

Chuckling at her innocence, he gave her a warm, reassuring smile. "Honey, you're going to have to trust me on this. If my assurance isn't sufficient, remember you have a safe word I've given you permission to use if—"

"Apple!" she called out without hesitation.

He could tell she was scared, so he sat back on his heels. "You want to talk about this?" When she gave a negative reply by moving her head from side to side, he posed his next question as gently as he knew how. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Would you?" she asked, and he could hear the fear in her voice.

"Most definitely. If you need me to."

"And you wouldn't be angry with me?"

"No, Tiff. I wouldn't be angry. I might groan and whine a little, but I'd never be angry with you for being afraid or uncertain about something."

She nodded then, with a wince, asked, "Can I touch it?"

Though wanting to laugh, he managed to keep a straight face. "Yes, you may, darling. As a matter of fact, I would like it very much if you did."

Her fingers tentatively reached out to stroke him, and he bit back a groan. Her soft green eyes shifted upward to gaze into his. "Pleasure?" she asked.

"Most definitely, pleasure," he answered.

"You're smooth. Especially here," she said, stroking the tip of his penis.

It was everything Kyle could do to hold still under her uncertain exploration. A little braver, she ran her fingers along his length then tried to close her hand around him.

"I can't do it. My fingers aren't long enough," she admitted with a trace of disappointment.

When he didn't answer, she slowly removed her hand. He held his breath as he waited for her decision. "Promise you'll stop if it hurts too much?"

He took a deep breath. "Say your word, darling, and everything stops. I promise."

Giving a tentative nod, she said, "Okay. I mean I really want to make love with you, Kyle, but I'm a little scared."

"It's my job to make sure you find this as pleasurable as I will, little one."

She nodded again then closed her eyes.

"Tiff, I have one more question to ask before we go any further." Opening her eyes, she gazed at him inquiringly. "Do you want me to use protection?"

Her brow furrowed. "Do you think there's a chance I could get pregnant tonight?"

"There's always a chance, sweetie. I know you don't want to have children right away, however, a condom could make things a little more uncomfortable for you, and I don't want that."

"Isn't there something you can do which might make it less painful?"

"Yes. I can use a lubricating jelly to help ease my way inside you. Would you like me try that?"

She thought hard about his question for a moment then shook her head. "I don't think I'd like to have anything between us this first time, so I'm willing to take the chance if you are. We can use protection next time."

"If you're sure..." He let his voice trail off, letting her know it was her decision. He wasn't worried about giving or catching an STD, though he did worry about getting her pregnant before she was ready to have kids." He waited for her to tell him what she wanted.

"I'm sure," she answered finally.

Giving her a smile of reassurance, he lowered his mouth to her again. It didn't take long for her hips to begin jerking upward in an effort to grasp hold of something just beyond her reach. This time, he was careful to bring her right to the brink, so she was moaning with need when he held her hips and began to ease his way into her.

His eyes remained fixed on her face as he watched her bite her lip when he reached the small tight barrier blocking his way and promptly drew back to ease the pressure. He wasn't able to get more than an inch inside her before he touched her maidenhead, so he continued to move in and out of her that little bit, taking care to brush against her sensitive little nub without putting pressure on her hymen.

"More," she urged finally, gripping his arms as she tried to thrust her hips up.

"Easy," he ordered, starting to add a little more pressure when he pushed into her. She was wet, so he knew she was fully aroused despite the way her teeth worried her lower lip. Taking care not to push too hard, he continued to work his way farther inside.

Her hymen was starting to give way, when she cried, "Apple!"

He stopped but didn't pull out. Instead, he met her gaze. "Tell me what you want, sweetie."

"I don't know," she whined. "I don't want you to stop, but it really hurts, Kyle."

Kyle withdrew with a sigh as he tried to bring himself under control. He was hurting, too, though for an entirely different reason.

She lifted her head. "You're disappointed with me, aren't you?"

Wanting to reassure her, he immediately said, "No, sweetheart. Not at all. I am pleased you trusted me enough to go even this far. We'll stop for tonight," he decided, reaching for his clothes, only to halt his movements when she gripped his arm.

"I want to do this. Tonight," she said with a resolved grimace.

Grinning at her, he ran a finger over her lips. "Hey, this is supposed to be fun, not torture."

She gave the tip of his finger a sharp nip, and his penis jerked in response. Her expression of surprise was priceless. "I want you, darling. That hasn't changed. However, I also want you to be sure about this. I don't want to hurt you, but you're very tight, and though I can continue to be as gentle as possible with you, I think it's still going to hurt a little before we're done."

"Just a little?" she asked, and he could see her uncertainty.

"That is my hope. It should feel like a sharp pinch, no worse."

"Are you sure?"

He smiled. "I've never made love to a virgin before, Tiff, so I can only tell you what I've heard others say."

With her forehead wrinkled in concentration, she gave a little nod. "Okay. But maybe you should be quick rather than gentle. Since this is the part that hurts, maybe it's best to get it over with, rather than attempt to prolong it in the hope you won't hurt me as much."

He shook his head. "I really do love you, Tiffany Anne Morgan, and I agree. Painful things should not be drawn out when they can be dispensed with quickly."

Nodding her agreement, she shut her eyes for a second before she met his gaze with clear understanding and love. "I trust you, Kyle. Please make love to me and make me yours."

Leaning forward he kissed her then lightly nipped each of her breasts to make her squirm and laugh before he put his mouth against the center of her again. She was very responsive, and it took less a minute for her to clutch his arms again and whisper, "More. Please, Kyle. I want you."

He entered her again until he reached the thin barrier. Though he expected it wouldn't take much to get past it, he also knew slow and gentle wasn't doing it for her. So, he pulled back and entered her again with a thrust that got him all the way home.

Tiffany let out a small cry of pain and tensed, so he held very still. The strain of not moving made his arms tremble and his forehead break out in a sweat while he breathlessly waited for her signal.

"It was a bit more than a pinch, Kyle," she informed him huskily.

A part of Kyle wanted to laugh, except his need was too great for humor, so he gritted his teeth and murmured, "Sorry."

Then, feeling the muscles in her tight passage smooth out a little as she relaxed beneath him, he watched her take a deep breath and meet his gaze. "Is that it?"

Keeping a straight face, he shook his head. "Oh, no, sweetheart. We've only just begun this dance."

# Chapter 6

"Oh," Tiffany replied, her cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. He must think she was a real idiot. She lifted her hips a fraction and heard him groan. He was being solicitous of her discomfort, but it no longer hurt. Not really. Gazing up at him, she said, "I want you to show me _all_ the steps, Kyle." Then, to her surprise, she felt him withdraw.

She'd started to complain when he thrust inside her again. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it didn't give her the same tingling sensation his tongue had when he'd put his mouth on her. He continued to move in and out of her until she felt the beginning of something build deep inside her. Then, reaching under her to clasp his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted her hips a fraction, and the next time he entered her, Tiffany's eyes widened with her gasp. He'd somehow managed to hit a spot that made her insides shiver with involuntary tremors of pleasure. She tentatively pushed back when he withdrew and plunged in again. She knew she needed something more, except, she wasn't sure what.

"Good girl," he coaxed without halting what he was doing. "Use your hips to counter and meet me when I press in."

She did what he suggested, and another rush of pleasure made her arch her back.

"That's it, Tiff. Come with me, darling," he urged as he began to move more vigorously in and out of her. Every time he touched that special spot, a pleasurable tingle traveled up Tiffany's spine, and her toes curled until a seemingly unreachable itch began building inside her. An itch only he could scratch.

Beginning to meet him thrust for thrust, she gripped his arms for leverage. "Yes," she replied with a grunt as her body stretched in its effort to grasp at something she knew was going to be wonderful. All she needed was a little more...

Then it happened, and Tiffany was swept away as wave after wave of quivering pulses consumed her until she cried out. She felt him give another few jerks before he held himself still inside her and a rush of warm fluid flooded her insides.

Kyle let out a groan then lowered himself so his weight rested on his forearms and his lips pressed against her forehead. "Oh, Tiff," he murmured huskily. "That was just perfect. You were perfect."

She smiled and gave him a little grin. "You're pretty good yourself, Mr. Sinclair."

He laughed then withdrew to drop onto his side. She felt a little empty without him covering and filling her anymore. As if a part of her had pulled away. At her questioning glance, he promptly drew her into his arms and kissed her.

When she responded by letting her tongue play with his then pressed up against him to position her leg over his hip, he reached over to give her a sharp smack.

"What?" she asked jerking away to gape at him with surprise.

"Enough of that, young lady. If you continue the way you're going, I will want to be deep inside you again, and then you're sure to have trouble walking tomorrow."

She giggled then wrinkled her nose. "Maybe it would be worth it."

He raised a stern eyebrow, so she lowered her leg and curled against his chest. She didn't think she'd ever been happier.

As the days of their first week, after announcing their engagement to her parents, Kyle and Tiffany began to plan their wedding. However, Kyle also insisted they wait a whole seven days before he would make love to Tiffany again, and she was beginning to get impatient with him.

He hadn't injured her, and she'd really liked what happened after it stopped hurting, so she couldn't understand why he insisted upon waiting. Except he made it clear he was the master, in the bedroom, at least, so she had to wait until he decided she was ready to try again.

Stupid, dominant alpha male.

After the third time they made love, Tiffany lay replete and satisfied, curled up next to Kyle in his large king-sized bed. He'd been so gentle and caring whenever he made love to her that she couldn't imagine ever being scared or worried he might hurt her. Which was why she was completely taken by surprise and aback when, after a few minutes of cuddle time, he rolled her onto her stomach and gave her a sharp smack.

With her backside smarting, she jerked her head up to try and discern the reason for the sudden change. "What?"

He didn't appear angry, nor did he offer an explanation. He just held her in place and gave her another, this one even firmer than the last.

"Ow! Kyle, that hurts!" she complained trying to pull away, but he held her in place as he delivered a third harder than the two previous, and she started to get scared. What had she done wrong?

"Kyle!" she yelped, trying to get away when his hand came down again with even more bite. He refused to let her up, and she couldn't squirm away.

"What do you say, Tiff?" he asked between gritted teeth, giving her a fifth smack that stung as though he'd used a flail instead of his hand.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out, her bottom on fire.

"For what?" he asked, his hard hand coming down like a paddle for the sixth time.

"I don't know," she wailed. "I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, making the seventh smack harder still.

"Yes!" she cried. He was hurting her, and she was powerless to get away from him. No matter how much she struggled, he easily held her in place as his hand continued to descend on her bare backside. He was deliberately hurting her, and she didn't understand what she had done that had made him so angry.

"What do you say to get me to stop?" he prompted, his voice sounding strained. He was in the processing of delivering his tenth swat, which was harder and much more painful than any swat he'd given her before, when she screamed, "Apple!"

He immediately released her, rolled onto his back, and flexed the fingers of the hand he'd used to paddle her.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, trying to stop crying, yet unable to prevent her choked sobs.

He drew her into his arms and held her. "God, Tiff. Why did it take you so long to call out the only word that would get me to stop?"

"I forgot about it!" she wailed, smacking him hard in the chest. "You could have reminded me in other ways, you bastard!" she cried, striking him again.

He reached down to grab both her fists in one hand. Angry and scared, she'd started to bring her knee up to get him where it really hurt, when he yelled, "That's enough, Tiffany Anne!"

She instantly stilled then cursed at him again.

"Tiffany," he growled in warning.

"What?" she demanded, wanting to slap his face. Her bottom felt like it had been sunburned and all because of his stupid uncle game.

Releasing her hands, he lifted her chin then bent down to kiss her. She considered biting him but didn't want to risk suffering another smack before she could call out her fruit word to get him to stop.

He placed kisses all over her face, effectively removing her tears with gentle presses of his lips. She sniffed even as she let him soothe her. When she quieted, he reached over to his night table, opened a drawer, and pulled out the bottle she really hated.

"Unh uh," she said, scooting away to sit up and vigorously shaking her head. He ignored her as he flipped the cap on the bottle. When she started to crawl away, he merely grabbed her ankle, drew her flailing body close to him, rolled her onto her stomach, and then held her in place.

"No, Kyle!" she cried, kicking to get free.

"Tiffany," he warned in his stern voice, pouring the lotion on the small of her back.

She instinctively jerked. Oh God, this was going to sting! She tried pulling away again, but with no success, then screamed when he began rubbing in the lotion.

"Count, Tiff," he ordered, not ceasing in his ministrations no matter how hard she tried to kick and buck.

"You bastard!" she cried, furious he did this to her.

"Tiffany, quit bitching and begin counting, or use your safe word. A safe word does no good if—"

Apple!" she cried out, and he lifted his hand, except her butt still stung like she'd been attacked by a swarm of angry bees. "Damn you!"

"Swearing at me doesn't gain you anything, either, Tiffany Anne. Now, do you want me continue rubbing in the lotion, or do you want to do it yourself? It needs to be spread, or it will continue to burn."

"Finish the job," she growled, thinking she really hated him at that moment.

He continued the gentle rubbing until the stinging sensation subsided, and she laid her head down on the pillow with a groan.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah. No thanks to you," she replied bitterly.

When he removed his hand and released her, she glared at him. "You know, Kyle, you could have at least warned me before you started this little lesson."

He sighed. "I didn't think I'd have to. I expected you to call out your safe word with the first smack. When you didn't, I thought I could jog your memory by making it more painful. I would have stopped at ten, anyway, but a safe word isn't going to do you any good, darling, unless you remember to use it."

"Yeah. I very painfully got that lesson, Mr. Smartass!" She rolled to get out of bed and jerked her arm away when he reached for her.

"No. You can't just wallop me because you feel like it then expect me to be all sweet and cuddly afterward. It doesn't work that way, Kyle."

Withdrawing his hand, he lay on the bed and put both hands behind his head. "Okay, Tiffany. Go ahead and hit me if it will make you feel better."

"What?" she asked, not certain she'd heard him correctly.

He merely stared at her for a moment then said, "In the bottom drawer of my dresser, you'll find a spanking paddle. You can use it, or your hand, or simply slap my face until you feel you've gotten back at me for what I did."

"Are you kidding?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Does it look like I'm kidding?"

"No," she conceded as she slowly got off the bed. "Bottom drawer?" she clarified, wanting to be sure she wouldn't come across anything that might spook her even worse before she went rummaging through his dresser drawers.

"Yes," he answered, not moving.

Opening the drawer, Tiffany spotted the item in question then discovered a few others that made her cringe with suspicion.

"What's this?" she asked, picking up what looked like a leather whip between her index finger and thumb.

He raised his head to see what she held, then lay back and answered, "A riding crop."

She wrinkled her nose and let it drop in the drawer.

"You may use that instead if you prefer," he told her. "Ladies choice, tonight."

Putting her hands on her hips, Tiffany turned to glare at the man she thought she knew and loved. "Are you some sort of pervert, Kyle Sinclair?"

He glanced over at her. "No. At least I don't think so. Although I have done some experimentation."

"Really?" she huffed. "And were you thinking of _experimenting_ with any of this kinky stuff on me?"

He shook his head. "Not unless you wanted me to."

She gaped at him in dumbfounded amazement. "God, I don't know you at all, do I?"

"You do," he assured her calmly. "Better than anyone else does, Tiff. I will dispose of everything in that drawer if the stuff bothers you. Those items mean nothing to me. Only you matter."

She shrugged and reached into the drawer to pick up the paddle. It was a lot heavier than she expected. "This looks like it might hurt. A lot."

He lifted his head saw what she held then lay back again. "It can be more comfortable than a paddling with the hand, since its padded. It certainly causes the user less discomfort. Again, it's your choice."

She tossed it onto the bed, noticing how he jerked a little when the wooden handle brushed his leg before landing beside him.

"You're truthfully willing to let me do this?" she asked again, not certain she believed him. There had to be some sort of catch she wasn't getting.

He met her gaze. "Yes. If that's what it will take for you to feel better about what I did. I realize I was very wrong in the way I handled the situation, so I will submit to whatever punishment you think I deserve."

Tiffany gave a dubious scoff as she climbed up on the bed. "Yeah, right." She picked up the paddle again, thinking her arm would tire in under five seconds if she were ever to use it. "How does this thing work, anyway?"

He met her gaze. "May I remove my hands from behind my head to show you, mistress?"

She shook her head, not in answer but with well-earned suspicion over this sudden servility he displayed. However, he mistook her head shake as her answer.

"Very well. I will try to explain through words. Grip the wooden part of the paddle as you would a tennis racket," he instructed, watching her. When she wrapped her fingers around the wooden base of the implement, he nodded. "Yes, like that. Now bring it down on the spot you wish to strike."

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Shouldn't you roll over on your stomach for this?"

"If that is what you wish," he responded evenly

"Well, if you don't, I could..." Her eyes widened. "You'd let me hit you there with this?"

"I am at your command, mistress. Say how you wish for me to position myself, and I will obey."

She shook her head. She wasn't at all comfortable with this shift in power and control. He must have sensed her ambivalence because he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze again. "It's okay, Tiff. I was wrong, and you have every right to be angry enough to want to punish me. Trust me. I'm a big guy. I can take it."

She hefted the paddle vertical to the bed then glanced over at him. "Roll over, please."

When he instantly obeyed her, she lowered the paddle again. His buttocks were taut and muscular, and she couldn't help running her hand over the smooth, white flesh. He gave a small jerk at her first touch but said nothing. She could see his muscles ease as he tried to relax.

She'd always wondered what he would do if he'd been wrong instead of her, and now she knew. This couldn't be any easier for him than it was for her. Though, as she continued to stroke him, Tiffany wasn't at all sure she could carry out this punishment. Surprise had negated her anger, and yet...

Gazing at the paddle she'd placed beside her on the bed, she curled her fingers about it and gripped it in her right hand. Then, tentatively lifting it to determine its weight, she rose up on her knees to give her the best angle.

He didn't move. He was going to let her do this.

Before she could think better about her actions, Tiffany brought the paddle down on his buttocks as hard as she could. The resulting smack was satisfying, though the impact jolted all the way to her shoulder. He only gave a soft grunt. However, the flesh on his backside turned a bright pink.

"Did that hurt?" she asked, fingering the large angry-looking swath of red she'd created.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered with another slight flinch at her touch.

She nodded. Okay, she could play this game as well as he could. "Well, since you were clearly in the wrong, slave, how many strokes do you think you deserve?"

He gave another small grunt, though this time Tiffany suspected it could well have been made to cover a laugh. "As many as my mistress deems I should receive," he replied soberly.

She brought the paddle down again hard then, releasing it, she winced and shook her arm. This wasn't anywhere near as easy as it appeared. "That wasn't a proper answer, slave," she growled, afraid she'd laugh and totally ruin the setup. God, her arm hurt, and she wasn't even using her hand to punish him.

"I humbly apologize, mistress, and accept your correction," he answered, his voice deeper than before.

Maybe she was better at this than she thought. "Should I give you a safe word, slave?" she inquired haughtily.

"That will not be necessary, mistress."

Yeah, she was beginning to enjoy this. "Very well, then name a number you believe will satisfy my need for redress, and we'll see if you are properly humbled."

"One hundred strokes, mistress," he answered promptly.

Tiffany scoffed out loud. Yeah, right. She'd be totally flabbergasted if she could deal out ten. Stiffening her spine, she replied, "I consider that a satisfactory number, slave. Should I have you count out loud as I deliver your punishment?"

Like before, his answer was immediate. "If my mistress wishes, I will call out with each stroke she administers to her humble slave."

This time, she couldn't hold in her laugh. "Um... Don't you think you're laying it on a bit thick, Kyle?"

He turned his head and gazed at her then. "I truly regret what I did, Tiff. I'll play this any way you want. Your call."

She shrugged. "I don't think I'm angry anymore, and to be truthful, it hurts my arm to wield this thing."

"Yes. The wood is from an actual paddle used in an English boys' school during Victorian times. The padding is new, since English school masters believed bare wood and bottoms offered the most humiliating and painful punishment, so it is quite heavy. Perhaps you would prefer the crop or the tawse? They are much lighter to wield and able to inflict a deeper, more intense, pain."

Tiffany shook her head and slumped forward as her conscience wrestled with the sudden overwhelming shame engulfing her. She'd just punished him the same way sadistic school masters had tortured their students nearly two centuries ago. "No. You did your penance. Though I thank you for the offer."

He didn't move. "I'm really, really, sorry, Tiff," he said and she knew his apology was sincere.

Giving her shoulders a slight shrug, she glanced over at him. "So you made a mistake. Maybe you can cut me a little slack when I make my next one."

He stared at her for a moment, then whispered, "You're a pretty amazing lady, Ms. Tiffany Anne Morgan-soon-to-be-Sinclair."

She returned his smile. "You're not too bad yourself there, hot stuff."

This time, she could tell he choked back a laugh. "May I be released from my punishment position to hold you, ma'am?"

She nodded then grinned. "Yeah, I think I'd like that, but only if you put this away first," she said, indicating the paddle. "I don't think I like it at all."

With a chuckle, he removed it from her hand and returned it to his dresser then returned to hold her close.

After a few minutes, she said "Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'd feel a lot better if you got rid of everything in that drawer."

He lifted his head to gaze at her with love. "Consider it done, my mistress."

# Chapter 7

The next week passed by quickly. Kyle still wanted Tiffany to explore her safe word, however, he was careful to remind her before he did anything which might necessitate her needing to use it. Not that he gave her any real cause to stop him from doing what he wanted.

Sometimes they'd start roughhousing in bed, but before he did anything she might want to object to, like a few hard nips on her stomach or buttocks, or showing her a couple of the restraints police officers were trained to use, he'd say, "Remember your safe word, Tiff."

"Apple," she'd repeat with a nod. However, there was one time when Tiffany decided she seriously needed to stop him.

Even though Tiffany wasn't sure how Kyle had gotten to know her so well, it seemed he was able to sense if she was even starting to get uncertain about something. He'd had lots of experience in bed, none of which she suspected she'd ever want to know about. Even still, she almost didn't believe him when he told her men didn't always use a woman's vagina when making love.

"Sometimes they like to slip into the woman's rear passage instead," he said, his expression serious.

Tiffany laughed. "Yeah, right! Now I know you're full of it, Sinclair."

"I'm serious, Tiff. I'd even like to try that with you."

She shook her head. "No. I doubt I'd enjoy that."

"How do you know unless you try?"

She gave him an "are you real" look. "I guess the same way I also happen to know a stick in the eye hurts, without having to try it first."

He inched closer to her. They'd just made love, so there was nothing between them as they lay on their sides, face-to-face on Kyle's bed. And because neither of them wore clothing, Tiffany was also quick to notice Kyle growing erect again. Leaning forward to give her a kiss, he reached behind her.

Tiffany stiffened and drew away. "No, Kyle." However, the hand she was most worried about remained stationed at the upper crease of her buttocks.

Kyle merely arched an eyebrow and slipped his hand even lower.

Tiffany's breathing quickened with uncertainty until the moment his finger gently probed her. Then, without pause, she whispered, "Apple."

He didn't move his hand away. Instead, he held it still, neither retreating nor going forward. "Do you trust me, Tiff?"

"You know I do," she answered gazing directly into his eyes.

"So, will you let me play, just a little, with you there?"

Giving a firm shake of her head, she repeated, "Apple."

With a nod, he withdrew his hand and said nothing more about it. No questions asked, he'd said, and he meant it.

After discussing calendars as well as upcoming events and all the arrangements they would need to make, Tiffany and Kyle set their wedding date for late June of the following year. Since it was only mid-May, that gave Tiffany and her mother over a year to prepare.

Tiffany had waffled for a long time over the date. She wanted to get married sooner rather than later, but she didn't want to have kids right away, while Kyle did. A long engagement would give them the time they needed to get to know each other better, making it a little easier for her to consider working on the family Kyle wanted once they were married.

So, after the first time they made love, Kyle was careful to use protection. However, after about the seventh time Tiffany watched Kyle remove his condom and discard it, she found the process less than romantic. And the moments when they were hot, aroused, and ready, but having to wait until she or Kyle got the condom on him, were even less so.

Also, she preferred the feel of Kyle's velvety smooth skin over latex. Which was why, only two weeks after they got engaged, Tiffany announced she hated condoms and wanted to go on the pill instead. However, much to her surprise, Kyle vetoed her idea.

"Honey, they still aren't 100 percent safe, and I don't like the thought of you messing up your system with synthetic hormones. Let's continue as we are. Okay?"

She wrinkled her nose at his answer. "It's a real mood-killer when we have to stop until your penis is fully dressed to play, and I don't like the way condoms feel inside me."

"All right," he said on a sigh. "Make an appointment to see your doctor next week, and I'll go with you to talk to him."

"You don't have to go with me, Kyle. I'm a big girl. I can see the doctor all by myself. I can even drive there."

He snorted. "That's debatable. Don't forget, I've seen you drive."

She'd opened her mouth to object when he raised a finger. Tiffany knew that warning well by now, and scowled at her husband-to-be. It was her body. So, she should get to decide what she wanted to use for birth control, not him, which was why she crossed her arms and waited for him to have his say, before she had hers.

"I know you don't agree, but this decision concerns me as well, Tiff." When she rolled her eyes, he held her face between his two strong hands. "I am going to be your husband, correct?" he said, using the stern voice that caused her butt to tingle.

"Yes, sir," she answered sullenly.

"As your husband-to-be, we agreed I get to decide what we do, or don't do, in the bedroom, correct?"

"No, not entirely," she disagreed. "I get a say."

"Yes, you do. But..." He let his voice trail off as he stared at her. She knew what he wanted her to concede, only she refused to give way.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes, pulled away from him, and said, "I'm not always going to let you boss me around, Kyle Sinclair. I'm perfectly capable of making up my own mind about my body, you know?"

With a nod, he lowered one hand and placed it over her stomach. "Your body, my love, will one day nurture and protect our children as they develop from a fetus into a baby. That baby will be mine as much as it will be yours. Yes, you will be the one to carry it, and you will be the one to give birth to it. I understand. However, something as serious as taking the pill could affect our unborn child, should you become pregnant while taking it. So, I believe I have every right to insist upon being with you when this decision is made."

Closing her eyes, Tiffany sighed then nodded. She should have known he'd find a way to win this argument as he had every other argument they'd had since they got engaged. God, was that really only two weeks ago?

The next day, Tiffany called to make the appointment and advised her doctor's assistant she wished to discuss birth control with the physician, and her fiancé would be coming with her. Unfortunately, the doctor wasn't available to see her until mid-June. That meant another three weeks of using condoms. She didn't like it, but she had no other choice, so she made the appointment and marked it on her calendar.

Kyle's birthday, on June tenth, was approximately one week before Tiffany's doctor's appointment, and she'd nearly forgotten it this year with everything else going on. Luckily, on the day they got engaged, Chrissy happened to ask Tiffany what she intended to get Kyle, now that they were a soon-to-be-married couple, except Tiffany had no answer. One week later, she still had no idea what to get or do for him, so she went surfing on the web and found what she thought would be the perfect gift.

All cops reportedly had "sweet teeth", so she'd surprise him by baking and decorating a cake. A very special cake. She wasn't especially talented in the kitchen, so she considered this to be a pretty big deal for her. When both her mother and Chrissy volunteered to help, they researched her idea and purchased all the supplies they'd need on the web.

Kyle loved chocolate, so Tiffany decided she would make him a chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. He was going to be twenty-nine, and she wanted to decorate it with the symbols of a police officer: a silver badge, stop sign, and handcuffs made of specially colored fondant icing. In addition, she planned to have fourteen dark-blue candles alternating with fourteen silver candles circled a tiny fondant police car in the middle, complete with the blue-and-red light bar, for which she intended to use some properly colored sugar sparkles to make it stand out a little. His twenty-ninth candle would be a slightly taller white one, which she'd place right behind the light bar to match the car.

Tiffany wanted this to be a special work of art he would be proud to share with the rest of his department. The stop sign, handcuffs, and car were her more personal, private message to him; however, they were innocuous enough others might not get their hidden meaning. So, knowing she had a pretty big learning curve to overcome, Tiffany started working on it at least two weeks before the big day but swore her mother and sister to secrecy.

Kyle knew for a couple of weeks Tiffany was up to something by the way she continued giving evasive answers to his questions about what she was doing. Having learned to read her tells, he could recognize pretty quickly whenever she was attempting to keep a secret from him. However, he could also tell whatever project she'd set herself to this time was also making her happy and proud.

He sensed no guilt, sadness, or anger within her. So, after asking a couple of times if she wanted to share, and receiving a head shake in response, he decided to let it drop. And though he would've preferred to know everything his darling minx was up to, he also realized she had a right to her own thoughts and dreams without him repeatedly crashing in on them. He loved her, she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

However, Kyle had yet another reason why he didn't feel it was right for him to press Tiffany into revealing her secrets. Because he had a big one of his own, which he had chosen not to share with her. Especially not after he'd seen her reaction to the equipment stored in his bottom drawer.

Kelly Franklin, his former girlfriend and sub, who he'd been seeing steadily before he'd caught Tiffany in the school zone, was having trouble letting him go.

He'd made it clear, or thought he had when they first started going out, all the two of them would have was a "scratch-an-itch" sort of relationship. Casual, with no commitments. But after they'd been dating for a while, Kelly had wanted more.

She'd been the one to introduce him to BDSM, which was the reason he'd kept all the bondage and discipline equipment Tiffany had seen in his bottom drawer. More than once, Kelly had told him she liked it when he tied her to the bed and flogged or paddled her until she went into the floating dream state, or subspace, submissives often achieved when orgasms interlaced with pain caused endorphins to flood their brains.

Admittedly, Kyle had enjoyed playing a Dom, and some of the BDSM experimentation had appealed to him on a visceral level. However, even though he'd enjoyed Kelly's body and doing kinky sex scenes with her, he'd never loved her. She played the submissive well enough to stroke his ego, but nothing they did contained the truth and sincerity needed to touch his heart. They were merely games.

For him, it was like playing Master and slave. They had a Total Power Exchange that, although great fun in the beginning, soon became a fulltime job, which eventually turned into a chore rather than a pleasure. And that's when he knew it had to end. Kelly was simply too high maintenance for him.

So, he'd tried to break up with Kelly even before he'd threatened to arrest Tiffany. However, like many submissives, Kelly had become addicted to the lifestyle until she needed to be dominated in order to reach a climax. She needed a man to control her and inflict a little pain while he either dispensed or denied whatever pleasure he thought she deserved. She needed a man to insist she bend to his will until she no longer had one of her own.

Except sometimes a man didn't want to master a woman into submission. Sometimes a man simply wanted a woman to enjoy being with him. To love and desire him, faults and all. Kyle didn't want a submissive for a wife, he wanted a partner. But even he couldn't say he wholeheartedly espoused total equality of the sexes.

Yeah, admittedly, he was a chauvinist pig at times and happily so. He wanted a wife who could stand up on her own if he needed her to, and yet bend to his will when he wanted her to follow his wishes. Challenges had their place in life. They kept a man on his toes. However, a man didn't enjoy being constantly on his toes when all he wanted to do was walk barefoot in the sand.

Needless to say, his breakup with Kelly in mid-December had been—messy. He tried explaining it had nothing to do with her. His preferences had changed, and he no longer wished to scene with anyone. Except, as he should have expected, she took it as a personal rejection. She was a screamer when pleasured and angered as well.

Kyle knew Kelly well-enough to realize he'd have a problem with her when they broke up, so he didn't try to separate with her in public. She would have loved "acting up" in a restaurant. Instead, he'd brought her to his apartment and let her know, quietly and calmly, it was over between them.

She'd hit him, yelled at him, then cried and begged on her knees for him not to do this to her. Prostrating herself on the floor, she pleaded with her Master to punish her if he was unhappy with her behavior—not leave her. He could even whip her if he thought she needed correction.

Except her master didn't want any of that, and when he told her so, she threatened to kill herself. Frustrated, Kyle went against his nature and did something really stupid. He dared her to go ahead.

Kelly had completely fallen apart then, and Kyle knew he had fucked up, royally. He should have tried to let her down more gently and eased her into another D/s relationship instead of dumping her as though she had meant nothing to him. Unfortunately, Kyle didn't want to play those games anymore. At least, not with her.

When Kelly started to sob uncontrollably, he became firm with her, which was what she'd appeared to want from him. However, she'd also wanted him to cuddle and comfort her after he'd finished delivering his reprimand, which he refused to do. Given he couldn't provide Kelly with everything she needed, and recognizing he owed her more than the rude brush-off he'd dispensed, he promised to help her get settled in their local club with a new Dom.

She complained she didn't want a new Dom, she wanted him. But Kyle cannily played the Dom card by reminding her what _she_ _wanted_ was not the issue. It was what _he_ _wanted_ and _she needed_.

Kelly had accepted the chastisement with a proper show of meekness by dropping to her knees at his feet and begging his forgiveness. He placed a hand on her head and told her he forgave her as long as she went home without further argument and met him at the club the next day. Amazingly enough, she obeyed him, and entered the club's doors promptly at six o'clock the next night, dressed in the proper fetish wear for a submissive.

True to his word, Kyle introduced her to a few available Doms. Though none of them were seeking a 24/7 relationship, he explained the situation to them, and they agreed to try and help Kelly through her issues, as Doms were meant to do. Everything had seemed fine for the last six months or so, but whatever program the guys had set up for her had evidently ceased meeting her needs,

Kyle wasn't aware there was even a problem until earlier that day, when Kelly sought him out at work and threatened to make their relationship public if he didn't take her back as his fulltime submissive, 24/7.

Even though Kyle wasn't the only police officer in his unit to enjoy the BDSM scene, he wasn't eager to have knowledge of his alternate lifestyle made public within the precinct.

Doms tended to be a close-knit group, so he was already aware of the other guys' situations. One, on the canine squad, was in a committed relationship and had even collared his sub last month. Kyle had beers with the other, who worked as a detective, on occasion. Jim wasn't in a committed relationship and preferred to "play the field".

However, like him, neither Bob nor Jim wanted his preferences made public. And though Kyle wasn't ashamed of his activities, he didn't relish upper management finding out he'd been a BDSM Dominant for over three years. It could cause problems for him when it came to a promotion and even worse problems if Tiffany ever found out.

So, when Kelly marched into the station earlier and demanded to see him, Kyle pulled her into a vacant interrogation room and tried to reason with her. Mistake number one. He should have known better. Kelly did not want to be reasonable, she wanted to be mastered. And she was acting the brat because she wanted him to dominate her into submission until she had no choice other than to obey him.

Kyle was pretty good at playing the Dom role. Modestly, he thought he even excelled at it, occasionally. He could master without making it sexual if he had to, however, dominance and sex were so closely intertwined in his mind he didn't enjoy the first without the second. Except he no longer wanted to master Kelly, and he had absolutely no desire to have sex with her. He wanted to dump her on someone else and let them try to handle her and see to her needs.

Still feeling guilty for daring Kelly to kill herself, he accepted his duty to her would remain in place until he could find someone else to master her successfully. He didn't like the situation, but, it appeared he didn't have much choice in the matter. As her former Dom, he felt a responsibility toward her whether he wanted one or not.

Realizing his task of finding Kelly a Dom who could successfully top her was a tricky situation, Kyle kept his search low key in an effort to keep Tiffany from ever discovering his previous lifestyle. Because, alternative to his preference of having sex when dominating in a BDSM situation, he had also discovered he could enjoy sex _without_ kink, as long as it was with Tiffany. He couldn't say their sex was vanilla, exactly, since he wasn't a strictly missionary position kind of guy. However, he also no longer felt the need to tie a woman up and whip her ass to enjoy making love to her. Nor did he need a woman to kneel at his feet in order to feel more in control.

From their brief experience, Kyle was all-too-aware the idea of whips, bondage and paddles frightened Tiffany, so he gave them up without a second thought or single reservation. The only thing important to him was his special girl. Yeah, okay, he did spank her occasionally, when her behavior necessitated it, but that was as far as it needed to go with him.

Ever since she was ten years old, Tiffany would sometimes need him to take a firm hand with her, even if she didn't realize it herself. Though he wasn't a psychiatrist, he recognized when she started to get defiant, bratty, or mouthy she was basically demanding he prove to her he was still man enough to handle her. He cared enough to make sure she stayed safe and healthy, and would protect her from anything that might harm her—even herself.

Occasionally, though not often, she also needed him to control her, so she could feel protected. Yeah, he gave her a lot of leeway, and let her get away with a lot more than he would have a few years ago when he was heavily into the scene. However, even he had his limits. The top one being her safety and well-being. Anything threatening her was dealt with swiftly and without mercy. So, even if _she_ did something that could potentially harm her in some way, he refused to tolerate it. And if she persisted in an undesirable activity, contrary to his wishes, she paid consequences with a warm bottom.

Even so, Kyle never wanted Tiffany to be cowed by or scared of him, or anything he might do with her. He liked her spirit. He enjoyed her sense of humor and occasional audacity, but, like most dominant men, he refused to tolerate defiance, disobedience or disrespect. He admired her mind, spirit, and body, and made it his obligation to protect all three, equally. However, the manner in which he did so totally depended on her.

Though Kyle never wanted nor expected Tiffany to be a biddable woman without a mind of her own, he was insistent she at least listen to him. She was bright and intelligent, and he encouraged her to use her mind. But she was also young, impulsive, and occasionally reckless, one element of which she would eventually outgrow, while the other two required some active curbing on his part, and probably would until they were both old and gray.

Unfortunately, a head of gray hair was not that far in the future for Kyle, especially if his darling girl continued to test his patience, as she seemed so fond of doing. Yes, he would also be willing to introduce her to erotic spankings if she seemed amenable, though so far Tiff hadn't found much pleasure in pain. However, like Kelly, she did like to cuddle close and kiss after a spanking.

Kyle had no doubt Tiffany loved and respected him. Kelly, however, was an entirely different matter. He needed someone to take her off his hands before she created even more trouble for him. Accomplishing that meant he'd have to break tonight's date with Tiffany.

So, as Kelly knelt by his side, with her head bowed, in the station's interrogation room, Kyle used his Dom voice to order his defiant submissive home then instructed her to meet him again, properly dressed, at the club at six. When she started to protest, he told her he wasn't giving her a choice, he was giving her a command.

Assuming the high protocol of a slave, she dropped her head to the floor and said, "Yes, sir. Please forgive your wretched servant, sir. Though she knows she should be severely punished for stepping out of line, she will wait for her master's pleasure at the club."

Understanding her formal style deserved a reply similar in tone, he placed a hand on her head. "Though I cannot forgive what you did, until you are properly punished for your insolence, I still expect you to obey my orders and go home. I also will expect you to kneel before me again later tonight and beg for my correction then."

"Yes, sir," she replied meekly. "May I be excused, sir, until later?"

"You may," he replied coolly.

She rose to her feet. Kelly was a pretty sub and knew how to move gracefully. When she bowed her head, he gave a nod, barely able to suppress his deep sigh of relief when she turned and left.

Next, he made a reluctant call to Tiffany. Kyle could tell by her "Hello?" that Tiffany was terribly excited about something. He had no idea what, but he expected she intended something special for tonight. The night before his birthday.

In previous years, she'd left something at the station for him. Nothing big. A cupcake with a candle, maybe, or a new desk puzzle wrapped in sparkly paper and topped with a bow. And though he got some ribbing from the guys over the teenager who clearly had a crush on him, he took it good naturedly and sent her a cute card as thanks.

Recalling her past thoughtfulness made him feel like an even bigger heel for bursting her joy bubble. However, he needed to ensure Kelly could never come between them.

"Hi, babe," he said gently.

"Kyle! Oh, I'm so glad you called." It sounded like she was going up and down on her tiptoes like a little kid. "I've got a special surprise for you. Can I come to your place at six tonight instead of seven?"

"Um, Tiff..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm afraid something unexpected has come up, and I need to cancel."

"Oh," she replied softly, and he could hear the happy bubble in her voice slowly deflate. When she said nothing more, he knew she waited for an explanation, which he had no intention of giving her. He didn't want to lie, and the truth in this case would cause her even more pain. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I promise."

"Tomorrow's your birthday, Kyle," she reminded. "Don't you have to work?"

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm afraid I do. But we can have lots of fun together when I get off—around 9:00 p.m. since tomorrow's Friday. 'Kay?"

She didn't answer, and from the sinking feeling in his stomach, he knew she was upset. "Tiff?"

"Okay," she finally agreed—very reluctantly.

"That's my girl," he praised. "I love you."

"Bye."

There was no joy left in her voice at all when she severed their connection.

Not good. He was going to have to do some major sucking up tomorrow night for disappointing her so badly.

# Chapter 8

That evening Kyle entered Velvet Chains at a quarter to six. Dressed in black pants and a black shirt, he headed straight for the bar. Normally, he didn't like to imbibe before a scene, but he was in sore need of a potent drink to get him through tonight's ordeal.

"Scotch on the rocks, please," he ordered before he could think better of it. Then, taking a quick glance around, he spotted Jim Evans, one of his fellow police officers, approaching the bar and debated unburdening his current situation to the other Dom.

Kyle had seen Jim work with a sub a couple of times. Though he'd known him to be a strict Dom, he wasn't a sadist. And Kyle didn't want to give Kelly to a sadist, even if that might be exactly what she needed. Time would tell. Kyle heard Jim order a glass of ice water and knew the other Dom intended to scene tonight. Kyle kept his gaze focused on his drink, feeling a little guilty for having ordered it, and not wanting the insightful Dom beside him to know how upset he was.

"Saw your sub come visit you at the precinct today, Kyle. She in trouble?"

Kyle gave a nod but didn't look up. "Yeah, you could say that."

"You intending to do a punishment scene with her tonight?"

Kyle sighed. Did he really have a choice? "Looks that way."

"Mind if I watch?"

Kyle gazed up at the other Dom then, and considered him. "Not at all. In fact..."

"What? You looking to make a party of it?" Jim's erect posture indicated his interest.

Kyle shook his head. "I'm looking to find her another Dom. Daniel tried to work with her, as did Greg, but I don't think they were strict enough to meet her needs."

Kyle saw Jim's eyebrow rise, and knew the other Dom considered his statement a challenge. "A bit of a hellion, eh?"

"She can be," Kyle admitted. "She can also be a sweet submissive when mastered properly. It's just that... I've met someone else."

"Got it," Jim answered, and Kyle knew the experienced Dom wouldn't ask him any more questions about Tiffany. "Tell me a little about your sub, and when she gets here, I'll put her through her paces. Check how she responds to me. If I'm pleased, I'll want to scene with her. I should know within a half hour or so whether or not we'll click."

"Thanks," Kyle said, finally able to take a breath. "I appreciate this, Jim."

When Kelly arrived, dressed in a short black skirt with a top that left her midsection bare, she sought out Kyle and knelt before him with a bowed head, as ordered. Kyle stared down at Kelly's bent head for a second then glanced over at Jim who stepped forward to run his fingers through Kelly's long blonde hair. Before she could turn and look at him he fisted his hand in her curls and yanked her head back.

She winced, but despite Jim's somewhat painful handling, she remained properly submissive.

"What's your name, sub?" Jim asked, using his Dom voice.

"Kelly, sir," she answered with a trace of apprehension in her tone.

"Well, Kelly, I'm Master James, and I prefer subs to address me as either Master or Sir. Do you think you can do that, girl?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied sharply, giving a tentative swallow.

"Very good. Master Kyle has given you to me tonight, so you and I are going over by the cross for a few minutes, where you'll strip for me then present yourself for my inspection. If I am satisfied with your performance, I'll chain you up for a bit while I do some further exploration. Then we'll see where we'll go from there. What's your safe word, Kelly?"

"Banana, sir," Kelly answered, clearly breathless and overwhelmed by Jim's agenda.

"Too many syllables, sub," Jim replied. "I want you to come up with something shorter by the time I'm ready to put you in chains. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered with a snap to her voice.

"Good, girl." Jim gave her hair a yank to pull her to her feet. Kelly yelped, and grabbed at Jim's wrists.

Jim shook his head. "Hands down, Kelly, and eyes front."

"Yes, Sir," she replied, lowering her hands with tears still filling her eyes when she risked a glance at Kyle.

Jim gave Kelly's hair another yank. This one much more painful.

"Ow," she whined, reaching for his wrists again.

"Hands down, sub. First and last warning. Do it again, and you'll be punished."

Though Kelly did as Jim ordered, she cried out with obvious pain, "You're hurting me, Sir."

Jim bent to gaze at Kelly directly. "Am I now? And do you have a problem with that, sub?"

"I don't like pain, Sir."

"Well, that's most interesting, since I heard differently. I was told you prefer a little rough handling. That you need it, actually. Have I been misinformed?"

When Kelly hesitated with a response, Jim gave her hair another tug. She managed to keep her hands down at her sides this time, though her tears fell a little more copiously. "I'm sorry, Sir!"

"For what?" Jim asked in a soft growl.

"For disobeying and complaining, Sir." Kelly admitted on a little sob.

When Jim released her hair, Kelly instantly reached up to rub her tender scalp. Kyle thought Jim would call her on that, instead he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and said, "Come with me, sub."

Kyle suspected Kelly wanted to appeal to him for help again, but after her last warning, she didn't dare. Jim was being rough with her, though not exceptionally so. However, Kyle decided to stay and observe them for a while. He wouldn't interfere, but he didn't want to leave Kelly until he was certain she and Jim would mesh.

When they got over to the chaining station, Jim crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Strip."

"Here, Sir?" Kelly asked.

Uncrossing his arms, Jim bent forward in an intimidating manner. "Since we're just getting to know each other tonight, subbie, I'm gonna cut you a little slack. When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed. Immediately. No questions asked. Hesitation will earn you a sharp correction. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Sir," Kelly answered, her voice sounding tiny and afraid.

"Good," Jim answered, straightening to his full six foot plus height and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for Kelly to obey his last command without repeating it. When Kelly didn't move, Jim said, " You have until the count of five, sub, and if you aren't out of your clothes and on your knees in a submissive presentation to me, I'm taking you over to the spanking bench and giving you your first taste of Master James's discipline."

Kelly scrambled to obey the Dom mastering her. She had stripped, gotten down on her knees, and had her hands placed in their proper position behind her head before Jim reached a count of three.

Jim nodded with approval. "Good, girl." He walked around Kelly, taking his time. "Very nice form, sub," he praised then, after a beat added, "Present your ass to me next, please."

Though Kelly winced at the command, she shifted onto her hands and knees then rested on her elbows and bent forward to touch her head to the floor. This served the purpose of lifting her butt high in the air for Jim's inspection.

"Nicely done, Kelly," Jim praised as he ran his fingers over her buttocks. When she shifted in an instinctive reaction, Jim gave her a light smack on the butt, and she jerked with a tiny yip. "You are not to move without permission. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered in a tremulous voice.

Kyle had made her kneel on occasion, but he'd never made her assume the slave positions. She did it sometimes on her own, which indicated she knew how, however, her quick obedience to Jim's commands surprised him.

Jim gave Kyle a questioning look then reached down and stroked Kelly along the crease in between her buttocks, stopping to spread his fingers and expose the twitching little puckered hole situated there. Despite Kelly's small gasp, she managed to hold her position.

"Good girl," Jim praised. "However, I expect you to remain silent unless I ask you a question or give you permission to speak."

Since Jim hadn't asked for a response, Kelly did not give one. Then Jim slipped his hand lower and slipped a finger into her vagina.

Kelly's head snapped up with her gasp. Jim gave her a bit firmer smack this time, and Kelly yelped.

"What did I tell you, sub?" Jim asked, leaning over her.

"That I am not to move or make a sound, Sir."

"And what did you do?"

"I moved without permission, gasped, and then yelped, Sir. But I couldn't help myself, Sir. Your first touch surprised me, and your punishment spank hurt... Sir."

Removing his finger, Jim straightened then stood watching Kelly for a moment before he said, "Rise up on your knees and present your wrists to me, sub."

Though Kelly trembled, she obeyed without hesitation. Jim gave a nod then took her extended wrists and fastened on the pair of leather cuffs he kept clipped to his belt. She kept her eyes on him, though her trembling increased.

"Easy, Kelly," Jim murmured in a soothing tone as he ran his hands along her arms. Once her trembling stopped and she calmed, Jim said, "Good, girl. I want you to stand at ease for me, Kelly," he commanded without taking his eyes off her face. When she stood steadily before him, Jim let her know she'd pleased him by giving her another nod of approval. However, when he lifted her arm to chain her wrist, she made a small sound of protest, so he stopped and took a moment to visually measure her. "Have you got your new safe word picked out yet, sub?"

"Pear, Sir," she answered.

Jim nodded again. "That'll be fine. You wanna safeword, now, Kelly?"

Kelly bit on her lower lip, then said, "May I ask you a question first, Sir?"

With a nod of permission, Jim said, "You may."

"Sir, are you going to punish me now, Sir?" Her voice sounded small and scared.

"What makes you think I'm gonna punish you?" Jim asked, his eyebrows lifting in open curiosity.

"Because I yelped out, Sir, after you told me not to make a sound," she admitted, her breath coming in hitches.

Giving a thoughtful nod, Jim ran a finger along the edge of her cheek. "Very good, Kelly. While you're right, disobedience is a punishable offense, I'm not gonna punish you for it now."

Kelly let out a sigh of relief, then whispered, "Thank you, Sir."

Jim frowned at Kyle. Kelly was not acting like a sub who sought pain or humiliation. Her reactions were more appropriate for a sub who feared punishment. _Interesting._ Kelly had her gaze lowered to the floor as she stood shoulders rigid and spine straight before Jim, so he put a finger under her chin to lift her face up.

"Look at me for a moment, Kelly girl," Jim murmured.

When she obeyed, her lower lip trembled. Then, to Kyle's surprise, Jim drew her into his arms.

"It's all right, darlin'. You're safe. I'm not gonna harm you."

When Kelly burst into tears at his statement. Jim continued to speak warm, soothing assurances in her ear. "Good girl," he praised, taking a tissue out of his pocket and drying her tears. "Better?" he asked/

"Yes, Sir," she answered, staring up at him. "I'm sorry, Sir."

Jim shook his head. "You never have to be sorry for bein' scared, Kelly, though you do need to be honest with me if we are to work together. I can determine a lot from your expression, but I cannot read your mind."

She gave a nod then said, "I understand, Sir."

"Pleased to hear it. Now, I'd like to chain you up and continue lookin' at you, but I have no intention of punishing you in any way. Do you have any problems with being chained? Any fears I should know about?"

Kelly shook her head. "No, Sir."

"Good. Then I will proceed." Jim lifted Kelly's wrists and chained them above her head before he glanced down at her again. "Breathe naturally, Kelly," he instructed, and she obeyed.

"Good girl." Jim pulled the chains taut until Kelly had to stand on tiptoe. "Nice stretch," he complimented, letting her down a bit so her feet lay flat on the floor. Kelly blushed. "Any issue with stretcher bars?" he asked next.

This time, Kelly smiled at him. "No, Sir."

He returned her smile. "Very good," he praised again as he knelt and positioned her feet where he wanted them. "You have a beautiful smile, sugar" he drawled as he locked her ankles into place with the spreader bar before rising smoothly to his feet. "You should use it more often," he suggested, giving her an approving grin.

Kelly was fully stretched and held immobile in the shape of an X.

Jim took a step back. "You're a real pretty sight in chains, darlin'. Lovely, in fact," he murmured, stepping close to her again.

"Thank you, Sir." She gazed up at him, responding to Jim's gentler touches like a flower bending toward the sun.

"All right, Kelly. So you and I can get to know each other better, I'm gonna ask a few questions. Some of 'em may be difficult for you, but I expect you to answer me truthfully all the same. Lie to me, and you will be punished. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied in a tremulous voice.

Jim reached out to cup her left breast then ran his fingers over it with an expert touch. "Do you masturbate, Kelly?"

She swallowed and glanced over at Kyle, undoubtedly not wanting to let him know she did.

In response, Jim gave the breast he was fondling a pinch. Kelly jerked and gasped then snapped her gaze back to Jim. "Eyes on me, sub. He is not your Master tonight. I am. So, I am the one you need to please, and I do not like repeating myself. That pinch was a warning, but it is the only one you're gonna get. Delay in answering me again, and I won't be nearly as gentle."

"Yes, Sir," she answered, tears flowing.

Jim was clearly an expert at this. He was being firm with Kelly without being cruel. He let her know what he expected and what the consequences would be if she didn't obey him. Kyle rested his hip against the couch positioned near the chaining station as a viewing area for the Doms. Only Jim, Kyle, and Kelly occupied the corner at the moment.

His back ramrod straight, Jim crossed his arms over his chest. "I await your answer, sub."

Kelly bit her lip again, a sure sign she was worried. "I forgot the question, Sir," she admitted on a small sob.

Jim arched one eyebrow. "Do you masturbate?" he repeated with a bit more firmness.

"Yes, Sir," she admitted.

With a nod he continued to run his hands over her. He was letting her know he had the right to touch her body anywhere and as often as he pleased. For tonight, at least, her body was his to do with as he wanted. "And do you come?"

"Sometimes, Sir."

He stopped to gaze at her again. "Only sometimes?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I see," he answered, placing a hand between her legs and inserting a single finger into her pussy. "And what keeps you from comin' sometimes?" He casually moved his finger in and out of her.

"I don't know, Sir." The pitch of her voice rose a little higher as she tried to move, except Jim had her firmly restrained. Kelly wasn't going anywhere unless Jim wanted her to, and he obviously wanted her right where she was.

Kelly closed her eyes as Jim leaned in closer to remove one finger and insert two in its place. Kelly whimpered.

"For the moment, I want your gaze fixed on me. You are not to close your eyes or look away, no matter what I do."

"Yes, Sir," she answered a little hoarsely, keeping her gaze locked on him.

From past experience, Kyle knew Kelly was unsettled, but Jim wasn't hurting her, nor was he the sort who liked a cringing, frightened sub. He was simply testing her.

"You are very tight and wet, Kelly," Jim said, watching her expression closely as he moved his fingers in and out of her. When she moaned and closed her eyes, he gave her a pinch.

Kelly jerked and gave a little yip. Jim kept a close vigilance on his sub's reactions as he continued to work his fingers in and out of her. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to keep her gaze on Jim. Her eyes grew wide as the task grew more and more difficult for her. After a few more seconds, she closed her eyes again and was rewarded with another pinch. This one had to have been harder, since she yelped and went up on tiptoe.

"You may not come, until I tell you to, Kelly."

"What?" she asked, panting against the pain. Jim must have pinched her again because her hips surged up and she did a little dance greatly hampered by the stretcher bar as she cried, "Oww!"

"That's for making me repeat myself, sub. I said you are not to come without permission."

She moaned as his fingers continued to work her.

"If you come before I've said you may, you will be punished for it."

Kelly groaned as she fought to keep her eyes open and on him. She tried to move her hips to match Jim's thrusts, but the chains didn't permit her much if any movement at all. After a few seconds, she opened her mouth.

"Ah. Please, Sir. I really need to come—"

"No, Kelly. You do not have permission. I expect you to keep your gaze fixed on me and hold back your orgasm until I tell you otherwise."

"Oh God, Sir. I can't."

Jim didn't answer as he continued to bring Kelly closer and closer to a climax. She began to pant in her effort to do exactly what Jim asked of her, and the Dom was deliberately making sure it was a torture for her to do so. Impressive.

"Ah," Kelly murmured again.

Kyle knew Kelly's signs well enough to tell she was so close to coming that he doubted she'd be able to hold off her orgasm, then Jim must have pinched her again, because her head fell forward and her feet returned to lie flat on the floor as she said, "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girl," Jim praised. "You feel so snug and warm when you grip my fingers, Kelly, and your face takes on a lovely glow. I suspect you will be beautiful when I finally let you come," he said, continuing to work her.

Kelly went up on tiptoe again, though it definitely wasn't pain that pushed her there.

"Ahh. Please, Sir. Please. I beg you—"

"All right, Kelly. You've been a very good girl, and I am pleased. Come."

Kyle felt a catch in his own throat as Kelly screamed in a way he'd never heard her scream before when she came. Jim milked her orgasm until she went limp then turned to gaze at Kyle.

"I think we can work together. She needs a bit more tutoring on obedience, but she wants to please me, which is good. I'd like a little downtime with her before I take her over to the medical station to give her a full examination, measure her for a few toys, and then administer a thorough cleansing. Any objections?"

Kyle shook his head and moved to leave then stopped. "Look me up tomorrow, when you get the chance. I'd like to know how things go."

"Will do," Jim replied with a curt nod, careful to support Kelly's weight before releasing her from her bondage then, with one smooth motion, he lifted her into his arms and placed a small kiss on top of her head.

She gave a soft moan of pleasure then wrapped her arms around his neck and curled into him with a whispered sigh.

"I'll make sure she gets home safely," Jim promised then, with a nod he strode off with her.

Little Kelly would no doubt get quite a workout tonight, and be more than a tiny bit sore tomorrow. Still, for the first time since Kyle had tried to pair her up with another Dom, he had hope. Jim appeared to master with pain and praise equally, and Kelly was responding to both. With a wave at the club's receptionist, Kyle left the building whistling a merry tune.

# Chapter 9

The next day, Kyle was ready to go out on patrol when he saw Jim approaching with a frown etched on his face. "How'd it go?" Kyle asked, fighting a sudden sunken feeling in his stomach at Jim's displeased expression.

"Well, she's a screamer and a yeller, all right. After you left, I held and cuddled her for a bit, and made sure she was back to her usual self before I put her on the examinin' table. She was fully awake by then and let me know she didn't care at all for me pokin' around inside her.

"I tell ya, Kyle, I spoke real gentle to her, and soothed her with reassurin' touches and strokes, but when I started to give her an anal, the little she-wolf arched up and started screaming. She couldn't go far, since I'd restrained her good. And I used plenty of lube, so I know I wasn't hurting her. Still, she raised such a fuss with all her cussing and spitting at me, I had to take her down and punish her before we could finish up what I had planned in there.

"She's a smart girl, so it didn't take her long to realize I was serious. Through her tears, she apologized and settled down real quick. Though I could tell she wasn't exactly happy about it, she let me do pretty much anything I wanted after that, until we got to the cleansing part, at least.

"I used every ounce of patience I had, coaxing and soothing her as gently as I would a newborn babe, but she still cried, whimpered, and complained through most of it. You'd think the girl had never had an enema before. Jheesh!"

"Maybe she hasn't," Kyle suggested, more than a little worried over what Jim was telling him. Kelly had only raised fusses with him when she was angry, never because she was scared.

"Nope. Asked her that, too. She snapped back that yes, she'd had 'em before and she didn't like 'em because they hurt. She had the nerve to tell me she thought I was invading her privacy by insisting she accept one from me."

Kyle snorted. A sub's privacy was totally up to the Dom in BDSM. Kelly had enough experience in the lifestyle to know the rules.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I didn't punish for it, however, I let her know none of what we did together was up to her. I was the one to decide what she got and when, and her job was to obey, serve, and accept. And if she didn't like it, she could use her safe word, and I'd see her cleaned up, dressed, and home before she even realized where she was.

"That's when all the real boo-hooin' started. She did everything I asked her to but didn't turn off the waterworks until it was all over. I dunno. Maybe it was my fault. I probably should have spent more time soothing than scolding, except she was having a real hard time listening to me."

"So, how did you punish her?" Kyle asked, hoping he hadn't been mistaken about Jim's style of domination.

"The old-fashioned way. Put her over my knee and gave her a proper paddling with my hand. Took no more than seven good swats before she was burbling out a tear-filled apology and begging for my forgiveness, so I let her up and held her.

"Hell, I don't think I did anything right last night. I should have tanned her hide good for what she did, instead of giving her seven measly swats. I'm sure she thinks a tearful apology and woeful eyes will get her out of being punished as hard as she should be. I did scold her a little for being difficult but wrapped her up good and tight in a subbie blanket and cuddled with her until she'd stopped crying and calmed.

"Don't get me wrong. I loved hugging her close, and she curled into me like a love-starved puppy desperate for affection and words of approval. I praised her for the way she took her punishment and warned her to be a good girl so I wouldn't have to spank her again. Didn't have a lick of trouble with her after that, other than the one brief show of insolence over the cleansing, and the tears and the whimpering, of course."

Kyle shrugged. "Sounds to me like everything went pretty well, so why the frown?"

"I think I may have taken the wrong tack with her. I should have been much stricter, instead of making excuses. Except, for some reason, I found it difficult to carry through with the punishments I threatened, which, despite being inconsistent, is totally unlike me..

"I've been a Dom for almost sixteen years, and this is the first time a sub has made me question my motives. She's got sass and vinegar, which I like, but to keep her from being a brat, she needs a Dom who refuses to put up with her nonsense and punishes her slips without reservation. Half the time I didn't even scold her for not calling me 'Sir'. And I had to struggle not to laugh whenever she made faces at me when I did scold her."

"I've got the same problem with Tiffany," Kyle admitted with a slight grimace.

"Yeah, maybe. However, from what I've heard, your relationship with Tiffany is different. She's not a sub and isn't bound by protocol. But, with Kelly, hell, I'm beginning to think she's doin' it on purpose, and I'm letting her get away with it."

Kyle nodded, pleased with Jim's insight. "I'm sure she is. At least she did with me. I think she pushes for the punishment in order to get the reassurance she needs afterward."

"Yeah, I suspected as much when I wrapped her up and cuddled with her for a bit after I got her all cleaned up and cleared out by the enema she carried on so much about. Gotta say, she's an affectionate little minx. Soft in all the right places, too.

"We settled down on a couch and had ourselves a nice long chat. She was open and honest with me and lapped up the attention I gave her like it was water and she was a thirsty nomad who'd been lost in the desert for six months. Anyway, as we talked, I opened up some to her, too, and happened to let it slip I work here with you."

Kyle groaned, and Jim nodded.

"Yup. Gotta tell ya, she perked up like a prairie dog poppin' out of its hole once she heard that. Jumped up and gave me a real big kiss as she said she'd like to visit me at work. Of course, I firmly put the kibosh on that idea, but I've a feeling she's so determined to come here and see me, she's even willing to risk a painful round with the spankin' paddle I'd promised if she disobeyed me. And that's because she doesn't believe I'll carry through.

"I like her, Kyle, despite all the sniffling and whining she did last night, but I'm not after a sub who needs watching 24/7 and clings worse than a bathtub ring. It's not what I'm looking for." As he calmed down, Jim shook his head.

"No, that ain't right, either. I don't mind watching after an obedient sub. I enjoy it. And I'm bossy enough to even like one who's a little sassy and clingy, but I won't tolerate blatant disrespect, and Kelly's sharp attitude catches in my craw. I swear that woman can snap back worse than a turtle on crack when she's riled. And given her temper, I fear my hand's not strong enough to bring her to heel."

Unfortunately, Kyle knew exactly what Jim was saying. "What time do you think she'll show up?"

Jim shrugged. " _If_ she's foolish enough to do it, it'll probably be around noon or so, when she can get off work. Frankly, I'm torn between washing my hands of her, and seeing if we can get past this rough patch without wading through an ocean of blood and tears.

"I don't need or want a slave whose only desire is to please me, but I've no hankering to babysit a brat, either. I want a woman who'll do as I say without me having to put her over my knee every five minutes." Jim raised his hands when Kyle had to stifle a laugh at Jim's statement. Jim grinned a little sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. I enjoy giving spankin's as much as the next Dom, but there's a point when it becomes work. Kelly needs someone who'll hold her accountable for her actions, take her to task, and punish her without fail when she acts up. That's fine for some, except I don't wanna have to run herd on a woman every hour of the day just to keep her in line. It's too damned tiring."

"I understand," Kyle agreed. "We could tag team her if you want. Perhaps with both of us coming down on her ass, she'll change her attitude and behave."

"You're dreamin', aren't you, bud?"

"Probably." Kyle waited and when Jim didn't say anything more, he asked, "What can I do to help?"

Jim shook his head. "Not sure, bud. Not sure at all. The part of me that wants to work with her is thinkin' I should wait it out and see how far she's willing to take things."

"Look, Jim. I'm well aware Kelly is a handful, but it's no reason for me to thrust my problems over on your—"

"That's just it, Kyle. I don't think Kelly is your problem anymore. I think she's mine. However, I got a feeling she's gonna run to you for help when I come down hard on her backside, and I wanna be sure you'll back me."

"One hundred percent," Kyle answered without hesitation.

"She's such a playful thing, I don't wanna hurt her, but I'm gonna have to follow through if she disobeys me today, and she's not gonna like it. Hell, I'm not gonna like it... But, I fully expect her to come begging for your protection when things start gettin' painful."

Kyle shrugged. "Fine. If she does, I'll simply hand her over to you."

"Yeah, okay. That'll work, although I bet it's gonna get noisy. And I don't like bringing my personal life to the station."

"Me neither," Kyle agreed, knowing he would have punished Kelly, if Jim hadn't taken over last night, for pretty much the same thing. "I doubt the guys will care either way, but I suspect Sarge won't like it if we come down hard on Kelly. I think he's pretty vanilla. And I'm not sure the captain tries anything _except_ the missionary position."

Jim snorted. "Yeah. They're both kinda straight-laced. I guess we'll have to take it as it comes and let the shit fall where it may. I'll do my best to rein her in tight, but I'll need to stand strong by making good on my promise, or I'll lose all credibility with her. And as much as I hate hurtin' her, having her doubt my word is a disaster I don't ever wanna see happen."

"I'll try to be here to back you up by noon. Hopefully, it'll be a light day workwise, so I can request a break."

"I do appreciate it, bud. Until then, keep those paddles up," Jim murmured with a wave, then turned and walked away.

On duty, Kyle gave out three traffic citations and arrested a flasher. The guy was off his meds, and his family had given up on him, so Kyle arranged for the county hospital to evaluate the poor slob. The paperwork he had to fill out meant he wasn't able to return to the precinct until nearly twelve-thirty, and he could hear the screaming before he'd even stepped through the door. So much for keeping a low profile.

Upon stepping into Reception, he first noticed Tiffany, who was holding a large box-like thing and watching Jim and Kelly's public argument with wide eyes and an open mouth. Kyle hadn't had a chance to talk with her since yesterday, so this was the first contact they'd had since he'd broken their date. Not good. Not good at all.

Jim stood with one hand clamped on Kelly's arm and the other gripping her hair to bend her neck back as he whispered into her ear. Though Kyle couldn't hear Jim's words, her response to him was clear.

"Try it, fucker, and I'll bite your fingers off."

Then Kelly saw Kyle and cried out to him. "Kyle, please! Don't let him—"

Her words were choked off as Jim tightened his grip on her hair. Then she screamed again, the sound one of anger, not pain, this time. Jim straightened his back to put a little more distance between them. His hold might be unbreakable, but he wasn't wearing earplugs.

Kyle gaped. Jim had locked Kelly's hands behind her in his official handcuffs. Hard police-issue ones instead of the softer Velcro type they used at the club. Jim's fingers were tight in Kelly's hair and he bent close to speak in her ear, except Kelly didn't like hearing what he had to say.

With tears of anger and humiliation still streaming down her face, the angry sub reacted childishly by attempting to kick her Dom. He responded by yanking up on her cuffed wrists, which Kyle knew from experience hurt. She screamed again.

Jim scowled at Kyle. The other Dom was close to losing it, and Kelly was about to eat dirt the hard way if she didn't settle down soon.

"Kelly!" Kyle barked, pulling her attention off Jim for a moment. "Your behavior is totally unacceptable!"

Jim used the distraction to strike Kelly's knees from behind with his own, and her legs buckled. Maintaining a tight grip on her hair and arms, the Dom kept Kelly from crashing down as hard as she could have if he hadn't been partially supporting her. But she still let out an "Oof" as her knees struck tile.

Next Jim had her face down with his knee pressing into her back to keep her there. She continued to squirm and struggle—to no avail.

"Let me up, you half-witted moron!" Kelly screamed out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle could see Tiffany gaping at Jim and Kelly, her eyes wide with dis could probably explain away everything that happened, but not if it escalated. And he had a feeling it was about to escalate to the ceiling.

Jim shifted his weight, and from the way Kelly started to rise onto her knees, he knew she mistakenly thought Jim intended to let her up. Except Jim's determined expression indicated that was far from the case. So, Kyle wasn't surprised at all when Jim brought his hand down hard twice on Kelly's projected rear end, effectively knocking her flat on the floor again.

Tears streaming down her face, Kelly bucked and screamed.

This time, Jim's words were clear. "Settle down right now, sub, or I'm gonna ball-gag you."

Lifting her head, Kelly glared at Kyle. "How could you hand me over to this cretin?" she cried, her mascara running down her cheeks. " _You_ were supposed to be with me last night. You promised to protect me, love me, and care for me. Not give me away, you bastard!"

Okay, he was going to have trouble explaining away that one. He could feel Tiffany's eyes boring into him, but he was way too much of a coward to return her gaze right then. Plus, this wasn't the place for them to have a discussion.

"That's it!" Jim growled, gripping Kelly's hair until she screamed again. "Quiet, sub," he snapped, then glanced over at Kyle. "My bag's in my locker, the key's in my back pocket. Get the key and bring me my bag, will you, bud?"

Kyle walked over to retrieve the key from Jim's pocket then started toward the locker room when he heard Tiffany yell, "Kyle!"

"I'll be back," he snapped, avoiding the issue and probably making things worse, however, he could only handle one crisis at a time.

Collecting Jim's bag, Kyle returned to the receiving area to see angry tears welling in Tiffany's eyes. Realizing things were going from bad to worse, he dropped Jim's bag beside him.

"My hands are a little full, bud," Jim said between gritted teeth. "Pull out the gag and paddle, will ya?"

Kyle pulled the plastic-wrapped ball gag out first.

"Go ahead. Put it on her," Jim ordered.

The command made Kelly struggle even harder to get away. But Jim had a firm grip on his sub and wasn't about to let her go.

"Stop that!" the Dom commanded as he set his lips in a tight line and brought his hand down twice more on Kelly's undoubtedly sore backside.

"Kyle!" Tiffany protested through her tears, but Kyle ignored her.

Though Kyle knew Jim could probably have gagged Kelly himself, the Dom wanted to impress upon his disrespectful sub that Kyle was supporting him, not her. And he was. One hundred percent.

Without hesitation, Kyle ripped open the plastic, took out the gag, and slipped it over Kelly's wildly shaking head. Knowing she would never willingly open her mouth to accept it, Kyle clamped her nose between his thumb and forefinger to restrict her breathing for a second, in order to slip the ball into her mouth without hurting her too badly.

Once the ball was in place, he tightened the nylon strap a bit more firmly than he needed to, so she got the message.

Kelly made some muffled "pfft" sounds, while the room grew almost eerily silent without her screams and profanity punctuating the air.

As if everything was happening in slow motion, Kyle noticed several police officers standing around and watching the show with interest as he pulled out the spanking paddle and offered it, handle first, to Jim, uncertain how the Dom wanted to proceed next.

"Got it." Jim kept one knee in place at the small of Kelly's back to hold her still and used his left hand to press between her shoulder blades while his right grabbed the paddle then brought it down with a loud smack on Kelly's squirming butt.

Her head jerked up, and she let out a garbled scream. No doubt she'd be bruised. Jim hadn't spared her one bit.

"Go ahead and scream if you want, sub," the furious Dom growled. "It won't change a thing." He brought the paddle down again, just as hard, and though she was still struggling, Kelly started to cry.

If her nose clogged while she had a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth, she could suffocate. However, being an experienced Dom, Jim would know this, so he bent over and said quietly, "Stop fighting me, sub, and I'll stop the paddling."

Gasping for air between her sobs, Kelly put her head down and lay still, and Jim set aside the paddle.

"Good girl," he said, stroking her hair. "Easy now. Don't fight it so hard, Kelly. Try to relax and you'll be able to breathe again."

Kyle could see Kelly struggling to drag a breath in through the gag, but her strangled gasps meant she was having difficulty gathering air. Standing up, Kyle gazed down at Jim, who shrugged then bent over to loosen the gag and remove it. A good Dom did not let his sub pass out from asphyxiation.

"Don't start up with me again, Kellian Sarah," Jim warned coldly. "If you do, I guarantee you won't like my response."

Though Kelly's frame shook with her sobs, she lay obediently still beneath Jim. The fight was over for the moment.

Kyle glanced at Tiffany who trembled so hard, he feared she'd drop the box she carried. Concerned, he stepped over to take it from her, "Why don't you give me that and sit down, babe, before you fall down."

She jerked her arm away from him and spat, "Don't you dare touch me!"

Kyle raised both hands and backed up a step. The kitten was showing her claws. Given she had a good reason to be upset, he made no attempt to argue or reason with her.

Tiffany was breathing almost as hard as Kelly now. Then, in a surprising move, she thrust her box into his arms while her bright green eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Despite being terribly upset, Kyle knew she didn't want to cry in front of him or his fellow officers.

"Happy Birthday, you sick fucker," she growled then stormed out of the precinct.

Kyle wanted to go after her, except as angry as she was, confronting her now would only make things worse. So, he let her go and put the box she'd given him down on nearby table holding public pamphlets on crime prevention.

Scowling down at the pile, Kyle realized there was one crime he'd like to commit, however, he'd definitely go to jail for murdering a woman restrained in handcuffs.

Determined to seek out Tiffany once she'd cooled down enough to at least hear him out, Kyle gathered his patience with an indrawn sigh and returned his attention to Jim.

Afraid they'd become a bit of a circus act with Jim still restraining Kelly on the floor, Kyle made a suggestion. "Why don't we take Ms. Franklin into one of the interrogation rooms, so we can stop being the center of attention?"

With a smooth, controlled motion, Jim picked Kelly up in his arms and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Casting a glance at Kyle, he said, "Bring the bag, bud. I don't think this is finished, yet."

Kelly's wriggling efforts to struggle free were met with a disciplinary sharp smack on her buttocks. Arching her back, she let out a healthy yelp.

"Give me any more trouble, sub, and I'll bare your insolent ass and blister it proper right here, in front of everyone," he warned. When Kelly's only response was a sob, Jim added, "And you should know by now I'll do it, too." Though Kelly let out a small whimper, she subsided to lie absolutely still in abject resignation on Jim's shoulder.

# Chapter 10

Kyle followed the two of them into the nearest interrogation room and set the bag down within Jim's reach before sitting down next to him.

Putting Kelly on her feet, Jim next applied firm pressure on her shoulders, which forced her down to her knees.

"Stay there!" he ordered quietly. "And do not move an inch unless you _want_ your bottom bared and paddled until it hurts too much for you to even scream." When she glared at him, Jim leaned toward her and added menacingly, "'Cause let me tell you now, woman, I am itchin' to do that real bad."

"I hate you!" Kelly spat at him, but wisely kept to the spot he'd placed her in.

Jim sat in his seat with a scowl but made no effort to punish or scold Kelly for her outburst, probably because he was too mad and didn't trust himself not to hurt her.

"What happened?" Kyle asked, drawing Jim's attention away from Kelly for a moment. "I know you intended to be firm with her, but what caused her to go off like that?"

"Well, bud, it sorta happened like this. Kelly came into the station and, all sweet and polite-like, asked to see me. When I stepped out into Reception, she charged and leapt up to straddle her legs about my waist then gave me a kiss that would burn my papa's whiskers. I was on the phone at the time, so I reacted without thinking and pushed her off me, expecting her to land on her feet. Instead, she dropped to the floor on her butt faster than a bag of cement on mixing day. I felt terrible, but was too riled over the fact she'd disobeyed me by coming here to even think about apologizing."

When Kelly turned and glared up at him, Jim raised a cautioning finger before her nose. "One more word outta you, darlin', and the gag goes back on."

She gritted her teeth and turned away but managed to refrain from saying anything that might challenge him to make good on his promise.

"Anyway," Jim continued a little more softly, "she was spread-eagled with her ass on the floor when I bent over to tell her how little I thought of her actions. I made no offer to help her up, and didn't intend to. Well, even though I sorta expected her to cry and beg my forgiveness, as she's done before, I was also prepared for her to throw one of her spectacular tantrums and yell some at me for being a brute. What I didn't expect or consider was she might launch herself at me in rabid fury and begin screaming and hitting me like a demented banshee."

When Kelly whipped around to glare at Jim again, he bent forward and said something quietly to her. She shook her head and started softly crying again as she turned away again.

Jim straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. "I guess she thought I'd be so delighted to see her I'd dumb-plumb forget I'd ordered her not to show up here."

Kelly glanced up at him and said tearfully, "I only wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd be happy to see me."

Jim sighed. "Did I give you permission to speak, sub?"

"No, Sir." Kelly answered, lowering her head in a show of submission.

Keeping his arms crossed, Jim stared at her and waited. When she snuck another glance at him, her eyes widened slightly. "I apologize for speaking without permission, Sir," Kelly whispered in a small, tremulous voice.

Jim rolled his eyes, then gave a sigh. "Very nicely said. Apology accepted." When Kelly's eyes welled with tears again, Jim regarded her for a moment. "However, since you've already disobeyed me by speaking without permission, what is it about 'if you come to my workplace, be prepared to spend the rest of the week unable to sit down' that you did not understand, darlin'?"

"I came to ask if you could get away. We already agreed to spend the weekend together, and I managed to get some extra time off. I sought you out with the hope we could sneak off early. I never imagined you'd get that mad at me," she answered on a sob, big tears rolling down her cheeks. "After last night, I thought you enjoyed being with me," she finished in a small uncertain voice.

Uncrossing his arms, Jim bent closer to her. "My feelings for you are not what's at issue here, Kelly. You deliberately disobeyed me, and I will not tolerate that."

She turned away and sobbed as if he'd broken her heart. Jim scowled at her for a moment then, straightening again, he shrugged. "I don't get it, Kyle. What is it about sobbin' women that makes a man feel like shit? She launched herself at me like a rabid she-wolf, and now I feel like I've kicked a puppy."

Kelly sobbed even harder at his words.

Jim shook his head then placed a gentling hand on her hair. "All right. That'll do. I want you to settle down and be quiet for a while. You've done more than enough carrying on for one afternoon."

Large wet sobs continued to pour out. With her hands cuffed behind her, Kelly couldn't wipe her nose, so Jim grabbed the box of Kleenex on the table and ordered her to look at him.

"You're a god-awful mess right now, darlin'," he scolded softly as he held a tissue to her nose. "Blow."

She obeyed. Crumpling up that one, Jim held another tissue under her nose. "Again."

After she did as he ordered, he snatched a third from the box and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then, lifting her chin to examine her critically, he said, "Better."

When she merely stared at him, he pressed a hand to her head until her cheek rested against his thigh then continued to stroke her hair. "You relax now, and we'll have a nice long chat about the many pitfalls of disobedience, later."

Kelly let out a watery sigh. Then, with her head resting against Jim's knee, she closed her eyes.

The floor was probably hard on her legs, and no doubt those handcuffs hurt, but she made no complaint as Jim continued to stroke her hair like she was his pet.

"Sorry 'bout what happened between you and Tiffany," Jim commented quietly.

Kelly lifted her head to gaze at Kyle again.

"Kelly..." Jim warned. She obediently laid her head down and closed her eyes again. "Good girl," Jim praised and resumed his light stroking.

Kyle sighed. "Yeah, that's going to be a tough one, I'm afraid. She heard Kelly say she expected us to be together last night. Unfortunately, I had to break a date with Tiffany to be with the two of you at the club, so I think she's going to have trouble understanding what was happening."

Jim said, "I need to finish up with this little hot-tempered termagant." He jerked his head in Kelly's direction. "Don't think it should take too long for me to get my message across. She ain't stupid, just stubborn. But I don't expect she'll feel up to partying much after our 'chat'," he grumbled, mimicking quote marks with his fingers before and after the word chat. "So, later, if you'd like to have a drink together, I'm game."

"Thanks, but I need to straighten out the mess with my girl before I attempt to do any other socializing." Kyle rose to his feet and Kelly lifted her head, but laid it down the moment Jim gave another light press of his hand. "I guess you won't need any help carrying out your 'discussion', right?"

"No. But thanks, bud. I think I can take it from here without any more problems."

Jim gazed down at the woman on her knees at his side and gave her a light tap on the head. "Kelly, I believe you owe an apology to Master Kyle. We'd like to hear it now, please."

Kelly glanced first at Jim then over to Kyle. "Forgive me, Master Kyle, for my rude behavior and language earlier."

Kyle nodded. She was Jim's, now, and he no longer had a right to touch her, not even to give her a pat on the head for forgiveness, unless Jim gave his permission first.

With a glance down at her, Jim said, "If you forgive her, Master Kyle, you may touch your hand to her head. If not, I will add her earlier show of disrespect to our list of discussion topics."

Struggling to hide his smile despite his own problems, Kyle managed a stern frown as he stepped forward to touch his hand to Kelly's head. "You're forgiven, sub."

When Kelly mouthed, "Thank you," Kyle gave them both a quick wave then turned and left, confident Kelly would be firmly handled but not mistreated.

When Kyle returned to Reception, he saw Tiffany's box and walked over to open it. The cake she'd created not only looked delicious, but she'd made it into a real work of art. Kyle smiled. "So that's what the little vixen's been up to these past few weeks," he murmured, feeling proud of her and shamed he hadn't gotten the chance to acknowledge the specialness of her gift and thank her.

Calling out to the group, he yelled, "We've got cake, guys, and it's a masterpiece. I'll put it in the break room for everyone to enjoy."

Several of the officers got to the break room first and were already lined up for a piece before Kyle got there. He laughed, but said, "Hey, guys, it's my cake, my birthday, so I get dibs on the first piece."

They ribbed him but let him take the piece he wanted. Kyle laughed over the small police car and the phrase Tiffany had put on his badge, _Police officers do it by the book_ , which would never be found on any cop's badge, but she got his number right.

Cutting a corner piece, Kyle placed it on a paper plate and headed toward his desk. He needed to get out and see Tiffany, but it would have been rude not at least to sample her masterpiece before he thanked her for it.

Both the chocolate cake and icing were so good, they melted on his tongue. He was proud of his girl, and hoped she'd calmed down enough to at least let him explain. And, since he could understand why she was so upset, he would be as patient as possible with her.

Once Kyle finished his cake and cleaned off his desk, he left the station and headed over to Tiffany's to talk with her. The conversation wouldn't be an easy one, and he expected a lot of tears and recriminations, but somehow he would get her to understand. He had to.

When he rang the doorbell, Tiffany's dad answered. Seeing who it was, he stepped outside on the porch and shut the door.

"Evening, son," Mr. Morgan said easily. Kyle could tell from the man's face Tiffany was having a hard time, and it made him feel even worse.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle asked, "How is she doing, sir?"

Mr. Morgan shook his head. "Not so good."

Then Patrick Morgan placed his arm about Kyle's shoulder and walked him down a step or two away from the house. It wasn't exactly the direction Kyle wanted to be heading, but he figured the man preferred to discuss matters privately with him, so he went along without comment.

After they were about twenty steps from the house, Mr. Morgan said, "I have no idea what went on between you two, Kyle, but my little girl is in there bawling her eyes out, and she's been at it since she got home two hours ago."

When Kyle opened his mouth to speak, Morgan shook his head. "Let me say what's on my mind first, son, then I'll give you a chance to say your piece. All right?"

Kyle nodded, although he didn't have much choice.

"Tiffany has loved you since she was about ten years old. She idolized you. And those feelings for you grew stronger and deeper as she developed into the woman we know and love today.

"I'm fully aware she did some things she shouldn't have, so she could get a chance to see you. She'd even come home crying sometimes because you'd been upset with her, but she always blamed herself—not you. She loves you, son. There is no doubt in my mind about that. But whatever happened today has practically destroyed her.

"As near as I can tell, she is under the impression you broke your date with her last night so you could be with another woman." Morgan held his hand up when Kyle opened his mouth to speak. "Let me finish. I'm sure you had excellent reasons for doing what you did. I have no doubt you could prove to Tiffany you were innocent of the charge, and I'm certain once she'd heard you out she would forgive you even if she didn't fully understand what happened. But, Kyle, she is too upset even to listen to you, let alone see you.

"She announced rather loudly she does not want to see you again under any circumstances, she did add never, but I kind of doubt she meant that. I know it's just her hurt feelings talking. Even so, as upset as she is, I have no choice but to respect her wishes."

Kyle didn't like it, but he understood.

Morgan patted him on the back. "You're a good boy, and you've done wonders for my little girl. She lights up with joy like a Christmas tree every time she talks about you—until today. I support you and want you two to work it out. And though I wish with all my heart the second part of that statement will eventually come true, I have to give all my support to my daughter right now."

Kyle felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "I can't even see her or talk to her for five minutes?" he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to ask anyway.

"Not for one second, son. I'm sorry."

Kyle felt like he'd been hung, drawn, and quartered. He tried to smile, and failed miserably. Finally, he said, "I opened her gift after she left."

Mr. Morgan smiled broadly. "She had the whole family involved in that project, and there were times when I thought she was going to burn the house down with her language. I've never seen her work so hard on anything before, but I think she did a stupendous job. It looked professional to me. She was very proud of it and was hoping to surprise you with it last night, so you could bring it into the station and share it with your buds today.

"By the way, Happy Birthday, son."

"Thanks," Kyle answered.

"Sorry it had to end so badly." Mr. Morgan slid his hands into his back pockets.

Kyle hesitated then said, "Mr. Morgan—"

With a shake of his head, Morgan cut him off. "No, son. It doesn't matter what you want to do or say, right now. She's the only one who matters to me."

"She matters to me, too, sir. More than I can say. Could you at least give her a message for me?"

"I'll listen to what you have to say, Kyle, but I can't say she'll want to hear it, or even let me relay it."

"I understand. Tell her I loved her present. It was the best gift I've ever received, and it was as perfect to look at as well as delicious. And if you can, please let her know I am so proud of her for what she did."

Mr. Morgan nodded. "I'll see what I can do to get her your message. Now, son, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I'm afraid you're no longer welcome here. As difficult as it is, I suggest you do not attempt to see, Tiffany, write her, or talk to her. She may change her mind in a day, or even in an hour, but until she does, you no longer exist in her world and, by extension, ours.

"We can't even mention your name right now. And as much as I hate to say it, I have to ask you respect her wishes."

Kyle's eyes teared up. He hadn't cried since he was an infant, but the devastation he currently felt was almost too much for him to bear and he wished he'd worn his sunglasses. He wasn't about to cry in front of Mr. Morgan, but everything inside him hurt so badly he found it difficult to even catch a breath.

Blinking, he looked away and whispered, "I'd best leave, then."

Patrick Morgan patted his arm. "I know it's hard, boy. It's difficult for all of us and I wish to hell I could let you do what you want to do. I can tell you love her deeply, so hold onto the thought she's a strong girl, and she's loved you for so long she's sure to change her mind and at least listen to what you've got to say."

Kyle nodded. "I'll try to keep that in mind, sir. Thanks."

Morgan retreated a step. "Good luck to you, son. I wish you the best."

Kyle managed to drive to his place without killing anyone or breaking any traffic laws, and even got all the way inside his apartment with his front door shut before everything inside him broke, and he cried like a baby for the first time in over twenty years.

By the next morning, Kyle was going crazy and decided he had to try and get Tiffany on the telephone. He knew her father was right, but he couldn't let it go. It wasn't in his nature to let something this important slip out of his fingers. Trying her cell would be useless, since she'd never pick up if she knew it was him, so he dialed their family phone. However, every call he made went to voice mail. After his seventh attempt, he stopped, realizing the Morgan's must also have caller id. They knew his number and refused to accept his calls.

The following day, Sunday, Kyle refused to stay in his apartment and mope any longer, so he went card shopping. He must have bought fifty "I miss you" cards ranging from raunchy and funny to serious. He intended to send her one card each day with a note. He'd keep them short, since he had no assurance they wouldn't be thrown away. Then he laid out a strategy on how he was going to send them.

By Monday, he was feeling a bit more optimistic. Mr. Morgan was right. Tiffany did love him. She needed some time to get over her hurt feelings. He would have done anything he could have to spare her hearing what Kelly said on Friday, but what was done, was done. He needed to tell her about Kelly anyway, so now he had to be up-front about his situation and tell Tiffany exactly what happened.

It wasn't like he and Kelly were still sleeping together. He hadn't been with her since before Christmas last year. His reason for going to the club hadn't been to cheat on Tiffany, but to ensure Kelly no longer caused any problems for him, and, by extension, her. Kelly and Jim would likely find a way to work things out between them. Kelly's emotions had been far too strong for her not to care for Jim, and when he wasn't berating her for throwing a temper tantrum, Jim's actions toward Kelly were quite gentle and loving.

Later that morning, Kyle spotted Jim standing by the coffee machine in the break room, staring at it with his mug in hand.

"Thinking of cutting back?" Kyle asked with a grin.

Jim shook his head and poured himself a cup after Kyle. They both preferred it hot and black.

"Want to go outside and talk for a minute?" Kyle asked.

Jim shrugged. "Why not? I'm sure you'd like to be reassured I didn't kill your former sub after you left us on Friday.

Kyle gave a halfhearted chuckle. The idea Jim might have seriously hurt Kelly had never entered his mind. They stepped outside on the patio set up for officers who liked to smoke, since the government building had a strict "no smoking" policy. Smoking was not a vice Kyle or Jim could lay claim to, though they had more than made it for it in other ways. Besides, the area offered tables, seats, and shade, making it nice to come out and sit for a while.

"I'm sure Kelly is fine," Kyle said after a few minutes. "I watched you with her, and though you were firm enough to occasionally cause her discomfort, you weren't cruel or harsh."

Jim gave a wry chuckle. "Wish I could say the same. God, Kyle. I just don't know what to make of that filly. I was so angry on Friday, I was ready to kill her. Almost."

"I know she can be difficult, Jim, so you don't have to tell me what happened unless you want another Dom to talk to," Kyle said, knowing how hard it was to tread the fine line between domination and obsession or abuse.

"I'd appreciate your thoughts, if you've got time. I'll bring you up to speed, so you can understand where I'm coming from, then tell you what has me most concerned." At Kyle's nod, Jim said, "I pretty much reduced her to the status of a slave on Friday, but when we got to my place, I noticed her wrists were rubbed raw from the cuffs I'd put on her.

"I gotta tell you, Kyle, seeing that made me feel real bad. Primarily because she never complained about 'em. Not once. I applied first-aid cream to her wrists then, using my Dom voice, I ordered her to strip and stand in a corner of my bedroom to await my pleasure. After that, I basically left her and went to sit on the living room couch.

"I didn't check on her to make sure she obeyed me, nor did I check to make sure she wasn't in any physical distress from my order, which wasn't likely, but still—I should have at least looked in on her once during the hour. But, hell, I wanted that filly sweating bullets before she saw me again, so I left her to stand in her little corner and stew over what was gonna happen to her.

"After her hour was up, I called out and ordered her to fetch the paddle from my bag and bring it to me. I didn't make her crawl across the carpet with it clamped in her teeth, but I was sure tempted to. She'd been crying, and I could tell from the way she trembled that she was scared—real scared. It wasn't cold causing her to shiver and tremble like a sapling in a hard rainstorm. It was out and out fear.

"Even knowing that, I was doggone determined to put her through her paces. So, I made her go through 'em all by the book. Ordered her to kiss the paddle, offer it to me, and then beg me to use it on her, the whole nine yards. Anything I could do to make this punishment more humiliating for her, I did.

"I had already determined she'd earned about forty good hard swats on her bare butt for her inexcusable behavior Friday, but since I wanted to see what she would say, I asked what she thought her punishment should be. I hate to say it, but I nearly fell off the couch when she said one hundred. God, I feared hurting her bad enough with forty. With one hundred—I was afraid I'd kill her.

"So, I put the fear of Jim in her and told her exactly what she was asking for with that number. She cried some but gazed at me through those large baby-blues of hers welling with tears and said she knew she'd made me real angry...

"Hell, I didn't disagree, she had. And she said, given all the trouble she'd caused me, she believed she deserved at least that many. At least! I figured the woman had to be out of her ever-lovin' fuckin' mind and worried I was preparing to paddle a woman who was legally insane. After I painted her a picture in which she was barely alive afterward—well, maybe not that bad, but close, I told her I wouldn't be a'tall insulted if she chose to revise her figure by another 25 percent. So, she agreed to seventy-five.

"Seventy-five was still way more than I was comfortable dispensing on her slim body. She's nicely rounded, yeah, but she doesn't have that much padding. But we settled on the number, and I warned her the last swat she received would be as hard and painful as the first, and she'd best get her mind around that quickly.

"Then I asked if she needed some water, or a chance to use the bathroom before we began, and I gave her twenty minutes during which she had permission to wash, drink, or empty her bladder or bowels. If she did anything else, crying and wailing excepted of course, strokes would be added. Then I said no when she asked permission to close the bathroom door. I told her it needed to stay open the entire time she was in there.

"Hell, I'm not some pervert who gets his kicks outta making women perform their bodily functions before an audience. I had no desire whatsoever to watch the woman pee, but I was afraid she might get scared and do something stupid, so I wanted to be able to hear her.

"The first fifteen minutes of her time were spent sobbing her eyes out. At the five minute mark, I called out to remind her what she was in there for and suggested she get to it if she didn't want me adding strokes. And that was something I did not want to do. So I made sure she knew exactly how much time she had remaining before she had to be kneeling before me again."

Pausing for a sip of coffee, Jim ran a shaking hand over his eyes. "I know she's almost thirty years old, but when she stepped outta that bathroom into the living room, eyes red, body trembling, she looked no older than twelve, and I felt like a G. D. child abuser.

"As a Dom, I have punished my share of women, and I've paddled a whole slew of 'em, both at the club and privately, but this was the first time I felt nauseous about carrying a punishment out. Even so, I—" Jim's cell rang. He checked it then held up a finger to indicate he'd need a minute before he answered, "Evans."

Kyle thought he heard a woman sobbing. "What's wrong, Kelly?" Jim asked, leaning forward in his seat with obvious concern. "Kelly, stop crying, darlin'. I can't understand you."

# Chapter 11

Kyle almost fell off the bench when Jim shot to his feet. "Who found you?" he demanded. Kyle couldn't hear Kelly's response, but Jim said, "I need more information than that, Kelly. Where are you?" A pause. "Home? Didn't you have work today?" Giving an abrupt nod, he added, "All right. Are all your windows locked and secure?" Another pause. "Front door still locked? Good girl. Stay in your living room, away from any windows, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

He cocked his head. "Right. See you in a few," he replied and the moment he hung up, Jim turned to Kyle. "What can you tell me about a 'Mike'?"

"Not much. I believe he was her Dom before I was. Why?"

"So, was he the fucker who messed her up inside?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. I wasn't aware anything was wrong with Kelly."

"When I examined her, I noticed some scarring. The type of scarring a woman gets when a man is putting things up her rectum that have no business bein' there. You never tried anal with her?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. I guess not. I'm not sure why, exactly, but for some reason we never did."

Jim nodded. "No doubt she subtly steered you away from the activity. I threatened her with a butt plug yesterday and thought she'd pass out from the mere mention of it. Something happened to her, Kyle. Something bad. And I think this 'Mike' asshole is responsible.

"I'm working a case with a guy who likes putting razor blades up inside ladies where the sun don't shine, and they're too petrified to talk about it. He's gotten five girls already. None of 'em died, but all of 'em required surgery to correct what this pervert did, and I can't get one of 'em to say a peep about who hurt 'em.

"Kelly didn't say exactly what happened to her, but I'm hoping she wasn't hurt as bad as these latest victims, since her scarring could be a result of surgery rather than abuse. Although it would certainly explain why she's so skittish at the thought of this guy finding her again. I'm gonna go see if I can make a connection to my case."

"You want police backup?"

"A neighborly patrol wouldn't hurt, but until I know more I can't request anything official." He clapped Kyle on the shoulder. "I'll let you know what I find out." Jim strode off, leaving Kyle with something new to worry about.

Although he didn't say anything directly, he suspected Jim was fighting his feelings for Kelly in the same way Kyle had fought his feelings for Tiffany. Kyle wasn't fighting those feelings anymore, he only sought a way to express them.

Although Kyle was pleased for Jim and Kelly and hoped they could work out whatever problems they had, he wasn't feeling quite so positive about his own situation. But not totally despondent, either.

Arriving at his apartment, Kyle collected his mail and found a FedEx envelope waiting for him. Hurrying up to his place, he ripped open the package to find Tiffany's engagement ring returned to him in an envelope along with his first card—unopened.

Throwing them both on his sofa, he paced his apartment. If he couldn't get any sort of message through to her, how would they ever work this out? Deciding he had no choice but to stick with his current plan, Kyle sent another card and left a voice mail message for Tiffany, figuring her dad would probably listen to it and delete it without Tiffany ever knowing about it. But he was running out of options and didn't know what else to do.

Tuesday morning, Kyle was still brooding about the returned engagement ring when he saw Jim wave at him. Putting aside his own problems for a moment, he focused on Jim and Kelly's far greater trouble dealing with a potential rapist and abuser.

"How's Kelly?" he asked, trying to sound concerned but not worried.

"Fine," Jim answered easily enough, though the tone of his voice and the frown wrinkling his forehead belied his words. "We've got her under protective custody. I've a feeling the bastard who'd fucked her up inside is the same fucker we're looking for. Nothing new on that front, I'm afraid to say. But hey, bud, what's goin' on between you and Tiffany? Here I am yapping away about my problem, and haven't even asked about yours."

Kyle shrugged. Though he didn't want to talk about it, word would get out sooner or later. "She won't see me. Her father asked me to leave her alone and let her heal."

"Gee, that's a bummer. I was hopin' you guys had a fun 'n frisky weekend together, at least."

Kyle shook his head. "So, have you and Kelly finally gotten things straightened out?"

Jim gave out a mixed signal that looked like something between a nod and a shake of his head, then admitted, We're workin' on it. I need to loosen up a bit, and she needs to come to heel quicker. It's not easy, but I think we'll find our way. Right now, I just wanna catch the bastard who's cutting up those girls. I don't want any more young ladies having to go through surgery because of what that pervert is doin' to 'em."

The realization Kelly may have suffered more abuse than he'd ever imagined made Kyle a little sick to his stomach. As her Dom, he should have known. Attempting to hide his self-loathing under a veneer of professionalism, he asked, "So, are you convinced Kelly may be one of your perp's earlier victims?"

"Yeah, I am. It makes me livid to think how she must have suffered under that guy. I gotta give her credit, though. She's a lot stronger than I realized. I'm between pissed and bothered she stayed with him as long as she did, but she deserves kudos for surviving the torment he put her through, and getting away."

Kyle felt the same way, and a little worse as guilt ate a hole in his gut. Had he determined Mike had hurt Kelly earlier, he might have prevented this current rash of mutilations. But Kelly had never told him anything, and he hadn't asked. "Did she actually admit Mike had hurt her?"

"Sorta. She admitted to going through some surgery, since I'm pretty sure she was in a lotta pain and bleeding when she finally escaped the pervert's clutches. From what she said, they wasted no time wheeling her into the operating room."

Unable to bear the guilt anymore, Kyle said, "I can't believe I never suspected something like that had happened to her."

Jim gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, bud. She tried to lie to me about it, too, and I doubt I would have struck truth in a coon's age if she hadn't gotten that phone call."

"Let me know if I can do anything, okay?"

"Will do. See ya later."

That evening, Kyle thought long and hard about the role he'd played in both Kelly's and Tiffany's lives. True, he'd never been in love with Kelly, but as her Dom, he had been responsible for her welfare. And he'd been absolutely clueless. That made him worry about Tiffany, and whether she might have suffered mishandling from any other _dickwads_ she'd dated, like the one he'd decked. She'd never told him of any misadventures, and she was a virgin the first time they made love, so he had to believe nothing bad had ever happened to her. All the same, it made him realize unless he specifically asked the question, Tiffany would have no reason to confess a past incident.

On Wednesday, Kyle discovered Jim was on a mandatory administrative leave after Tuesday's shootout, in which the suspect had been shot in the leg. Even though the perp hadn't been killed, department regulations stated all officers involved in a shooting incident were suspended from normal duty pending an investigation.

This was probably a good thing, since Kelly would be in need of a lot of Jim's special attention, given the arrested perp was indeed Mike. Mike hadn't confessed yet to any of the attacks, but the guys were convinced they had gotten their man, which was a good thing. Another good thing happening that day was Tiffany's scheduled appointment with the doctor to discuss alternate birth control. Certain she couldn't avoid him there, Kyle showed up at the doctor's office in plenty of time to meet with her, only to learn she'd canceled the appointment on Monday.

By Friday, one week after their breakup, Kyle began to wonder how long Tiffany planned to keep him in the doghouse. He wasn't exactly a patient man, but to his way of thinking, Tiffany was better protected than Fort Knox. So, he was almost relieved when Jim asked if he could pick up Kelly at her office and take her back to his house. It wasn't strictly police business, but Kyle could justify it with Kelly being a witness in one of their cases. Besides, it would give him a chance to see how she was doing after her close call with Mike. It also wouldn't hurt him to get another woman's perspective on Tiffany's behavior, and perhaps some helpful advice. Lord knew, he needed it.

"Kyle!" Kelly said, her smile wide and bubbly. "Okay if I sit up front with you?"

"It's not encouraged, but I'll let you do it this time," he answered, giving her a careful once over as she slipped in beside him and fastened her seat belt. The Dom in him noticed she appeared a little thinner, but healthier. "How are you doing, Kelly? Are things okay between you and Jim now?"

"Now?" she asked, the word bringing a small frown to her forehead.

Kyle nodded as he pulled out of the employee parking lot. "Jim looked more than a little worried Wednesday, and I thought something may have happened between the two of you."

Kelly gave a small grimace and sighed. "Yeah. It's fine. I managed to get into a bit of trouble over breakfast," she admitted, and Kyle suspected she'd done something Jim took a firm exception to. "So, we talked it over, and I think we're making progress. He did ask me to marry him. Well, he didn't ask, precisely. He more told me we were getting married, and he sort of agreed to an early October wedding. We'd love to have you and Tiffany join our party."

Despite his smile, Kyle gave a non-committal nod. Though he was pleased for Kelly and Jim, he didn't want to attend a wedding without Tiffany. Unfortunately, the chance of them getting together, even by October, didn't look promising.

"So, how're things going between you and Tiffany?" Kelly asked quietly.

Kyle shook his head.

"She's still not willing to see you?" The note of dismay in her voice was obvious even to him.

"Apparently not," Kyle answered, casting a glance at Kelly who was worrying her bottom lip. Figuring she was still feeling guilty about her part in his and Tiffany's break-up, he attempted to soothe her by seeking advice. "I've tried just about everything I can think of to get a message through to her, but all of my attempts have been rebuffed. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them."

Reaching out, Kelly clasped his arm. "I'm sorry, Kyle," she said with a press of her fingers. "You're a nice guy. Tiffany should at least give you the chance to explain, but I don't know her well enough to offer you any advice."

"Thanks, anyway," he answered.

After a few minutes of silence, Kelly said, "I've been meaning to ask you something. What made you decide to give me to Jim last week?"

Kyle glanced over at her. "He did."

Kelly's eyebrows drew together in a frown. "What do you mean?"

"He saw you at the station earlier that day, and thought you might be in trouble for it."

"He did?"

Kyle nodded.

"And he wanted to protect me from you?"

Kyle laughed. "Not exactly. I think he wanted to do the honors of punishing you himself."

"Really?" Kelly leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest in a fair imitation of Jim.

Kyle grinned with amusement at her cute show of pique, adding, "I got the feeling, although he never directly admitted it, he'd seen you at the club before, and liked what he saw. I'd had no idea, or I would have recommended he get together with you a lot sooner. Though I was a bit concerned when I first saw how he treated you."

" _You_ were concerned? Try being at the other end of that scowl and see how you feel then."

Kyle chuckled. "I know he can be a little intimidating at times."

"A little? At times? Try a lot, always."

"Even still, you didn't seem all that terrified of him last Thursday. At least not when he..."

Blushing, Kelly held up her hand to stop him. "Yeah, I remember. Even then he had me right on the edge, exactly where he wanted me. He can be as sexy as sin when he puts on the charm, and worse than a Victorian schoolmaster when he's teaching a lesson he means to ensure you won't forget anytime soon." Turning in her seat, she faced him. "I mean, you were strict at times, Kyle. Not often, but occasionally. However, with Jim? I think his middle name is Corporal Punishment and he gets off on it."

Unable to hide his smile at her aggrieved tone, he said, "He's been a Dom much longer than I have, Kelly. And practice makes perfect."

Kelly laughed. "Yeah, he's an expert at it all right. He can make me quiver with excitement and uncertainty at the same time just by crooking his index finger."

"Well, here you are, ma'am. Take care of yourself, will you, Kelly?"

"You know I will," she answered, leaning over to give him a kiss.

Though they'd had their problems, Kelly had always been affectionate, both in bed and out. They'd been lovers, so her kiss was intimate without being overly passionate. Afterward, she held his face, and they gazed at each other.

The sound of the passenger door opening made them jump apart guiltily. Jim gave Kyle a nod, then, reaching in, he unbuckled Kelly and assisted her out of the car.

"I thought you were going to be held up at work today," Kelly said to him, her voice a little breathless.

Jim arched an eyebrow at her. "Obviously."

Blushing, she started to move away, but he clamped his hand at her waist to hold her by his side as he leaned forward to say good-bye to Kyle. "See you on Monday, bud. Thanks for taking care of my girl."

Kyle saluted as Jim shut the door. "Anytime, Jim. Anytime."

Though he doubted Jim intended the words for anyone but himself, Kyle heard him mutter, "Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."

Inwardly grinning at his friend's display of jealousy, Kyle left and went back on patrol.

One week later Kyle was wondering how Tiffany had kept turning up in various places, before they were engaged, where he would catch her doing things she shouldn't be doing. And now that he was actively looking for her, she'd virtually disappeared, or never left her house.

By Friday, July first, which Kyle had taken off from work, he was pacing his apartment like a caged panther. Everyone at the station was giving him breathing room, probably because, as Jim said, he was being about as social as a mountain lion with a toothache. It didn't help matters any that among this day's mail Kyle had received a large envelope from the Morgans, with Patrick Morgan's name listed on the return address. Torn between hope and heartburn, Kyle tore it open.

Patrick was returning at least a week's worth of Kyle's cards he'd even mailed from another city with a friend's return address. Included in the package was a polite, but firm note requesting Kyle stop mailing things. "You're wasting your money, Kyle," Patrick wrote. "Tiffany refuses to look at anything sent from you. And we recognize your handwriting all too well by now, son, so, I'm returning these cards unopened." He signed it "with deep regret, Patrick Morgan".

Pissed, Kyle grabbed the cards and envelope, intending to rip them into tiny pieces, but stopped himself in time. He had to keep believing this separation was only temporary. Tiffany would once again be in his arms, and they would look back on these weeks with laughter at the silliness of it all. This hope, however, was getting more and more difficult for him to hold onto as more time passed. She refused to see him, receive any mail from him, or even talk to him, and he was running out of ideas as to how he could change that.

Thoroughly depressed, Kyle gave himself a mental kick. He wasn't the sort of man who gave in or gave up. There had to be a way he could convince Tiffany to talk to him. Deciding it was past time he did something to change his situation rather than simply bemoan it, Kyle finally accepted he would need help. So, sitting down, he put together a plan.

The next day, Kyle sought out the two people who would be most likely to help him in his venture, by driving over to Jim's house. Even though Kelly and Jim were engaged, he was still surprised when Kelly opened the door.

"Kyle!" she said, her tone effervescent with bubbles. Kelly leaned forward to give him a hug then waved him inside. "Come on in. Jim! We've got company," she called.

"You're looking chipper, Kelly," Kyle remarked, noticing a glow on the face of his former girlfriend and sub he didn't recall ever seeing before.

"I am," she admitted with a pretty blush. He watched as she slipped an arm about Jim's waist when he joined them. Jim promptly put his arm around her and placed a kiss on the top of her head before turning to Kyle.

"Kyle. Come on in, bud, and have a beer with me. Kelly, could you do the honors, darlin'?"

"Sure," she said, and headed toward the kitchen while Jim led Kyle into the living room.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked quietly once Kelly had left.

"What isn't?" Kyle said, taking a seat in one of their upholstered arm chairs. "I can't sit around and wait any longer. I've got to do something to get Tiffany back before I go crazy."

"Been there, done that," Jim said with a smile directed at Kelly when she walked in with their beers. "Thanks, darlin'. Kyle and I need to discuss some private guy stuff, so can I be rude and ask you to make yourself scarce for a bit?"

Kelly appeared a little disappointed but gave an immediate nod of agreement. "No problem." Turning, she smiled at Kyle. "Nice to see you again."

He stood. "Same here."

He thought he saw a light sheen of tears in her eyes, but she gave Jim a quick kiss then took off to the bedroom.

Jim watched her leave with pure male appreciation. Yeah, the cowboy had it bad for his sub and soon-to-be-wife.

"I hear congratulations are in order," Kyle said, pulling Jim's attention away from Kelly's shapely posterior. "Kelly told me you two are planning to get married in October."

"She did, did she?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"October is just a little too late in my mind. I told her she'd better be ready by the first if she didn't want to be getting five swats on her bare behind for every day she postponed things beyond then. I think she thought I was kidding."

"And you're not?"

"Nope. Not about that, I'm not. I want that filly tied to me as soon as possible, and I want to get started on a passel of kids right away. Speaking of startin' families, tell me what's goin' on between you and Tiffany."

Kyle quickly filled him in on the latest, including the packet he received yesterday.

"So, they're still blocking your calls?"

"I knew her family was protective, her dad especially, but they've got her guarded more securely than the Secret Service safeguards the president."

Jim chuckled. "Well, my phone's unlisted, and only a few people have the number. You're welcome to try calling from here, if you think it'd help."

"At this point, I'm willing to try almost anything." Jim rose to leave, when Kyle rose, but Kyle waved him back. "Stay. I may need moral support if this goes badly.

Picking up the phone, he dialed and almost dropped the receiver when he heard Chrissy answer in a slightly sexy voice, "Walter?"

Quickly, Kyle said, "Chrissy, let me speak with Tiffany, please."

"You bastard!" the teenager growled at him. "How dare you call here after what you did to my sister. She loved you, and you destroyed her!"

Worried a little over Chrissy's use of the past tense, he snapped, "Christine Marie Morgan! You should have your mouth washed out with soap and your butt paddled for using language like that."

"Fuck you!" She hung up the phone. Slammed it down, more likely.

Kyle stared at the receiver he still held. That sassy little girl was going to prove a handful for some guy one day. After briefly closing his eyes, he replaced the receiver into its cradle.

"Charming youngin'," Jim said with a smile. "Tiffany's little sister, I guess?"

Kyle sighed. "Yeah. About five years younger and with enough attitude to match an ankle-biting Jack Russell."

Jim leaned forward. "I'll admit I'm not the most sensitive of guys, but I can tell you're real upset, bud, and I'm thinking you and I should chew the fat for a while to see what we can come up with to get your girl back."

"Much appreciated," Kyle said, resuming his seat.

"Now, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but if Tiffany were my girl, I'd show up at her house, barge in if I had to, then hog-tie and even gag her if she didn't come quietly, and basically take her out of there the 'old-fashioned' way."

"Though I shouldn't admit it, kidnapping holds a certain appeal for me right now. Except, I know I'd have to go through her father to get to her, and I don't want to hurt him."

Jim shrugged. "Show your badge, then."

Chuckling, Kyle said, "I suppose that might work as a last-ditch effort. Though it'll be kind of hard to explain to the captain why I thought gaining entry as a police officer under false pretenses was a good idea, especially after Patrick Morgan files charges against me. And he'd do it, too."

"Then, you'll simply have to take some time off and do your own stakeout. She has to leave the house sometime. When she does, grab her. Catching her is half the battle, and once you've done that, I'm sure you'll figure out how to get her to listen."

"Well, you've given me a few ideas, at least, which is more than I had before. However, I'm also afraid I could get arrested for doing any one of them."

"Yeah, you could. Possibly. But you won't. Once you get Tiffany in your arms, I'm certain all will be forgiven."

"We can hope," Kyle said, rising to leave. "Thanks, Jim."

"Only too glad to help, bud. Kelly!" Jim called. "Kyle is leaving."

Kelly opened the door to their bedroom and stood within the doorframe, giving Kyle a soft, sad smile. "Before you go, I wanted to say again how sorry I am for causing all the problems you're currently having with Tiffany."

Kyle shook his head. "I don't blame you, Kelly. I'm not exactly pleased about what you said, but the truth needed to come out, and I was the one keeping secrets, not you. So, you shouldn't feel at fault for what happened."

Kelly waited until Jim gave her a nod, then she rushed over to Kyle and hugged him. "It will all work out, eventually, Kyle. Tiffany will come around in time. You just need a little more patience." Kyle was surprised to see tears flowing down Kelly's face. "I only wish things hadn't happened the way they did."

Kyle was a little stunned. It had been two weeks since he'd even held a woman, the last time being the brief hug he'd shared with Kelly in the car, and he realized now how much he missed it. Even so, Kelly's obvious remorse over Tiffany's attitude aroused Kyle's suspicions. He glanced over at Jim, who simply shrugged. He clearly had no idea what was making his girl feel so guilty, either.

"Kellly..." Jim warned, dragging out her name a little. "What did you do?"

Releasing Kyle, she regarded Jim through wide, innocent-looking blue eyes, and Kyle got the uncomfortable feeling there was more to her apology than either of them had suspected.

"What are you looking so guilty about now, Kelly girl? Did you say something to Tiffany?"

Bowing her head, Kelly gave a quick nod. Reacting without thinking, Kyle grabbed Kelly's arm and turned her to face him, causing her to let out a little yelp of surprise.

Jim did not hesitate to give Kyle a sharp warning. "Let her go, bud. She's not yours to handle anymore. And if you forget and touch her like that again, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Kyle dropped his hand and gave Kelly an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, but I need to know what happened between you and Tiffany."

She gave a small shrug. "After you and I talked, I realized how badly I'd messed things up for you, which made me want to see if I could do anything to help. So, I went to see Tiffany myself."

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"What? That you were once my Dom, and we were lovers? No, Kyle. I'm not stupid. I know that would break her heart. Tiffany and I work at the same company."

Kyle suspected his expression mirrored the surprise evident in Jim's raised eyebrows when Kelly laughed at them. "You guys don't know much about corporations, do you? J.C. Medical and Dorman Pharmaceuticals are both owned by Skylabs. They have different management but do hold some of the same functions and meetings together. I saw Tiffany shortly after the breakup. She appeared tired and a little thinner but seemed to be managing pretty well, so I thought I could help things along by getting her to realize how much she missed you, Kyle."

"When exactly did all this happen, Kelly?" Jim asked.

Kelly turned to face him. "Last Saturday. The twenty-fifth."

Jim scowled. "You told me you were goin' shopping, Kelly girl, not visiting. Did you lie to me?"

Paling, Kelly promptly shook her head. "No, Sir. I did go shopping. You remember. I brought home that cute sun dress you liked on me so much because the back comes—"

"I remember," he said gruffly. "Go on."

Kelly shrugged. "There's not much else to tell. I mentioned I'd seen her at the annual meeting, and that she'd looked sad. So, I asked if she'd like a fellow police officer's girlfriend talk to. She didn't remember me, so I reminded her who I was. Then she remembered that terrible scene at the station a few weeks ago."

# Chapter 12

When Kyle realized Kelly's actions had reminded Tiffany of something he was hoping she'd forget, he groaned and put his hands over his face. Jim crooked his finger, so Kelly walked over and stood before him. The Dom encircled his sub's hips, his hands crossed and resting over her backside. "Did she remember what you said?" he asked gently.

Wrinkling her nose, Kelly answered, "Yeah, unfortunately. She asked me what I'd meant when I said Kyle was supposed to be with me. I had to think up something quick, since I suspected the actual truth would upset her even more."

Kyle groaned again. This was getting worse and worse.

"So, what did you tell her, Kelly girl?" Jim asked, his tone even and firm. Kelly began playing with the buttons on his shirt. "I sort of told her I knew she had been watching our fight at the station, and I was jealous she and Kyle had worked out so well, while you and I seemed to keep quarreling, so I'd attacked Kyle verbally when he entered the lobby."

Jim removed his right hand and tilted Kelly's chin up. "What else?" he asked with firm insistence.

Kelly's lower lip trembled "Well, I was afraid to out and out lie, because I assumed Kyle would want to tell Tiffany the truth about us one day. So, when Tiffany asked if Kyle and I had a date scheduled that Thursday night, I admitted we'd dated awhile back, and I'd showed up at the station earlier that day demanding to know why Kyle had offered to marry Tiffany and not me.

"What else?" Jim inquired quietly.

"I sort of implied you and I had a fight the night before, and I was still fuming over it." She glanced over at Kyle. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd broken a date with Tiffany to take me to the club and I didn't know what else to say."

Kyle nodded, but Jim gave Kelly's butt a light smack with his left hand, so she'd turn to face him again. "I'm sure you told Tiffany more than that, Kelly. Continue, please."

Giving a wince, she slumped a little. A sure sign she knew was going to be punished for what she'd done, but, to her credit, she continued bravely on. "I told her, since I was so upset, Kyle agreed to meet me later."

His knees suddenly weak, Kyle groaned and sank into his chair to put his head in his hands for a brief moment. When Jim continued to scowl, Kelly cringed. "I said I thought it was a date, but Kyle merely handed me over to you and ordered the two of us to talk. However, I didn't think it was necessary for me to admit your idea of a conversation was to make me strip and chain me up."

"Little wiseacre," Jim said without heat. "So what happened then?" he asked, both his hands resting on her backside again.

"Tiffany cried a little," Kelly confessed, "Then admitted, sort of quietly, that deep down she'd hoped it had been merely a misunderstanding between her and Kyle. However, given what I'd just said, it seemed Kyle did break a date with her to be with another woman. Me. I wanted to contradict her and explain, except I didn't think that would help, either," Kelly admitted, gazing up into Jim's face. "I didn't mean to, but I think I may have made things worse instead of better."

Releasing a long sigh, Jim shook his head at her, while Kyle groaned again, this time a lot louder. Kelly whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jim regarded her for a moment then said, "I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not real disappointed in you right now, Kelly girl, because I am. And you know I am, just as you also know why."

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

After drawing Kelly close to give her a quick kiss, Jim gazed at Kyle. "She meant well, and I know she's sorry, but she broke one of our rules and will be punished for it, Kyle. I promise you."

Kelly tucked her head under Jim's chin and hugged him closer, and Kyle could tell even if she didn't look forward to the punishment her Dom intended to administer, she trusted and loved him without any reservations.

Jim returned the embrace without hesitation, shifting from side to side in a sort of rocking motion for a few minutes while Kelly cried.

Kyle rose. "It's not Kelly's fault, Jim. It's mine. Don't punish her for my mistake."

"I'm not," Jim assured, placing a light kiss on Kelly's hair. "I'm punishing her for her deceit. And she knows that." After giving Kelly another kiss on the head, Jim tilted her chin up to gaze at her tearstained face. "You all right now, Kelly girl?" She reluctantly nodded, so he leaned forward and gave her a deeper kiss.

Kelly rose on tiptoe and clung to him but Jim gently set her apart and said, "You go on into the bedroom and wait for me. I'll be in shortly. I want to talk to Kyle a bit first."

"Can't I stay? Please?" she tearfully beseeched him.

Keeping his hands on her waist, he shook his head. "No, you may not. So, go on. I won't be long, I promise."

Kelly shook her head, so he pinched her chin. "If you need me to make it a firm command, which will result in an even harsher punishment, I will."

Tears flowing more freely, Kelly shook her head again. Jim placed a kiss on her brow. "I still love you, darlin'. You know that. This has nothing to do with my desire to have you in my arms at all times. I still do, but I don't need to spell out what you did wrong or why I'm punishing you. Do I?"

"No, Sir," she whispered.

"No. Didn't think so. You know exactly what I want, and I expect you to do it now. Without further discussion or delay." Then turning her until she faced the bedroom, he gave her a light swat and said, "Go on. Do as you're told." Reluctant, but obedient, Kelly walked slowly to their bedroom and shut the door.

Kyle regarded Jim with astonishment. "I'm impressed. No quarrel. No hysterics. Just quiet, tearful compliance."

Smiling, Jim said, "Don't let her present meekness fool you. She's still a little firebrand at times. But she usually only sasses me when she's scared. As long as I can reassure her a punishment, even if painful, is being given with love, she rarely gives me any lip about it."

Kyle shook his head. "I'd say she's almost a changed woman, and it's been what—three weeks since she attacked you at the station?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. I could have avoided much of that scene if I hadn't been so hung up on protocol. Since then, I've eased up quite a bit on her requirements, and she's been working to give me the respect I want. In return, I also make sure she's getting the affection she craves so badly. It took us a while to get there, but we finally made it.

"She's only unhappy now because she knows I'm upset with her. She doesn't like being punished, but I've learned she prefers it over being banished to the guest room. So, we worked out a system that seems to meet both our needs."

Seeing Kelly and Jim interact reminded Kyle how much he missed Tiffany.

"But hey, bud, it's the holiday weekend. We're thinking of grilling out tonight. Want to stay for dinner?"

Kyle shook his head, "I think you guys—"

"Nah, don't worry none 'bout that. It'll be quick, then I'll scold for a bit as I hug and reassure her, and she'll apologize and promise to be good from now on, and the sun'll be out shining again in no time. This ain't new to either of us. So, don't let it hold ya back. She'll be fine."

"Thanks, Jim. I appreciate the offer, but I think... I think, I'm going to hide away for the weekend. I'm not much into celebrating right now, but I'm also not one for a pity party, so I should go."

Stepping forward, Jim clapped Kyle on the shoulder. "Whatever you say, bud, but I'm sure Kelly would like you to stay, too. She's feeling real bad about possibly making things worse between you and your girl. I know she'd like to see you're okay about it all."

"You can assure her of that for me, Jim. At the moment, I miss my girl so much it hurts. I know you understand."

"That I do, bud. That I do." Leading Kyle over to the door, he said, "No doubt I'll see you around the station next week. Until then, take care of yourself, you hear?"

With a nod, Kyle left wondering whether or not Patrick Morgan would ever seriously charge him with kidnapping his daughter. Tempting. Very tempting.

Kyle almost wished he had gone away for the weekend as he sat in his apartment watching the fireworks and wondering if Tiffany was watching them as well. Then, swallowing the rest of his beer, he crushed the can and decided he was tired of moping around like some lovesick fool. Tiffany no longer wanted to be engaged or married to him. Well, fine. She'd been an annoying child and had grown into an even more annoying woman. He'd made a mistake in not being honest with her. Big deal. When she'd lied to him, he didn't walk away without a word, did he? Well, screw it. He should head over to Velvet Chains and find a nice, compliant, submissive woman who would take what he had to give and not ask for more.

He surged to his feet. Right. He'll go over there now. Storming into the kitchen he threw his crumpled can into the bin, grabbed his keys and barely glanced at his picture of Tiffany taken on the day he proposed. Then he stopped and stared at it. Her eyes held a slight sheen of tears. It hadn't been an easy day for her, but anyone with eyes could tell she was happy.

He'd been the one who'd ruined that smile. She felt hurt and betrayed by him, the first man she'd ever made love to. The only man she would ever make love to if he had anything to say about it. She'd been his girl since she was ten years old. She'd trusted him to look after her, and he'd let her down—terribly. Tossing his keys back into their dish, he returned to the kitchen and got another beer. Perhaps he should drive around their neighborhood to make sure everything was okay _. Right Kyle. Become a stalker, why don't you?_

Jim's ideas were tempting, if not impractical, and more than slightly illegal. Kyle had always done things by the letter of the law. There was little gray for him. Everything was black or white. Kidnapping was a federal offense, and certainly nothing a police officer should even contemplate. So, why was it sounding better and better to him? Because he wanted his girl back, and it seemed like the only feasible way he could accomplish that.

Kelly had said Tiffany looked tired. She hadn't been that way with him. She'd been an excited bundle of energy. Kelly also said she thought Tiffany had lost weight. The only time Tiff didn't eat well was when she was upset about something. If she was having trouble sleeping and eating, her father should be putting his foot down. Patrick was a doting and loving father, but light on discipline, which was undoubtedly why Tiffany and her younger sister had such impertinent attitudes.

Both the Morgan girls required strong men to love and protect them, and strong hands to guide them. Jim was right. Kyle always made sure Tiffany knew he loved her, even when he found it necessary to punish her. And her father had admitted to knowing his daughter had done things she shouldn't, in an effort to get Kyle's attention. Patrick didn't doubt Kyle made Tiffany happy. So, why was he insisting on keeping them apart?

Two weeks later, while Kyle was still trying to figure out how he could convince Patrick to let him see Tiffany, he learned something that made his mind up for him.

Kyle was in the process of putting away groceries when his phone rang. Picking it up, he said, "Hello?"

That's when he heard Jim say, "Hang on, bud, I need to talk to Kelly for a sec. Darlin', I've changed my mind. Dom's privilege. So, dry up those tears. Though I still think you ought to be spanked proper for what you did, I've decided to do something else instead, and it requires baby oil, a ball gag, and lots of towels."

Kyle imagined Kelly's eyes growing wide at that request, and had to hold in a chuckle.

"Here's what I want you to do. Collect those items for me along with your pink vibrator and place 'em on the bed. And don't forget the gag."

Kyle recalled Kelly's last experience with a ball gag, and she was no doubt giving Jim grief for insisting they use it.

"Kelly..." Jim's voice held a touch of warning then he added, "Scowlin' at your Dom is not permitted. I believe we agreed that automatically earns you a two swat minimum, so be prepared for that as well. Yeah, I know you don't like the gag, darlin', but I don't want the neighbors calling the police again. It's embarrassing having them think I'm torturing you when you climax. And, sweetie, I fully intend to torture you until you are screaming and begging me at the top of your lungs to let you come. Got it?"

Kyle held his breath for Kelly's reply. "Oh, yes, Sir. Or at least I hope I will very soon."

Laughing out loud, Kyle could imagine the sexy smile Kelly was giving Jim. Jim gave an amused chuckle as well.

"All right, then. I expect you to obey your Master and be naked as the day you were born and in the proper position for me in two minutes. I want you on your hands and knees—with your pert, curvaceous ass facing the door— eagerly awaiting your Master. Trust me, darlin', I think you're gonna enjoy this. Now, do as I say before I decide, given this was your second offense in this matter, I need to be much stricter with you."

Hearing the hurried tapping of Kelly's high heels on the floor, Kyle was certain the little sub was more excited about Jim's new game than worried about his threatened spanking. Jim could be strict, at times, but Kyle had seen the way Kelly could turn the hardened police detective into an affectionately growling teddy bear with a single tear.

Then Kyle heard Jim talking again, but his voice was muffled as if he'd covered the phone's mouth piece with his hand. "Slight change in plans, darlin'. Keep on that sexy backless maid's outfit you're wearing and the heels. They've given me some inspiration. Everything else stays the same."

"Got it, lover!" Kelly called back, and this time Kyle grinned at his former sub's slip. Kelly never had been good at maintaining protocol, but Jim made sure when they were playing she always used the correct form of address. And from what Jim had said, Kyle knew he tended to enforce his rule with a couple of firm swats on Kelly's saucy butt when she forgot.

Kyle thought Jim was pretty lenient with her the rest of the time. When Jim didn't say anything about Kelly's slip, Kyle listened for Kelly's answer. "Sorry, Sir," Nice recovery, although undoubtedly a few seconds too late. However she didn't sound the least bit worried about being punished when a few seconds later, she called out, "Um, I meant to say... 'Yes, Master'."

"Better, but you're up to four, darlin'," Kyle heard Jim respond. With a chuckle, Jim said to Kyle, "It appears I've got some domestic issues going on here with a saucy maid. Shame, too, since it's real hard to get good help these days."

Kyle laughed and said, "I heard. I think you've got everything under control, though."

"Yeah? Well, I happen to know how best to punish cheeky maids. That one, especially." Then getting serious, Jim said, "I have some news to share. It appears our little Kelly has been keeping secrets from her all-too-tolerant Dom."

Since Jim mentioned this being Kelly's second offense, Kyle frowned. "I gather those secrets are something I should know?"

"Oh, yeah, buddy. You should. Seems my secret-keeping minx went to see Tiffany again last week."

"Last week?"

"Yuppers, and I had to torture the information out of her with more than a few swats and the threat of tickling. She says Tiffany isn't looking too good, bud. She's lost a lot of weight and has trouble keeping her chow down. Even though Tiffany's claiming it's just the flu, Kelly thinks it might be more serious. And after also hearing Tiffany kept trying to adjust her bra like her breasts hurt... I have to say, bud, I think Kelly is right.

"I'd lay odds, ten to one, you're gonna be a papa in the next six months. And if I were you—I wouldn't wait another minute to go over there and kidnap your girl. Take some cuffs and hogtie her if you have to."

"Yeah. I recall you recommending that before, but it still seems a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Depends. Have you had any luck getting to her any other way?"

Kyle didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Jim's voice lowered to a low murmur. "She's having a real rough time of it, Kyle. Kelly says she's miserable, and I believe her. That girl needs you, bud. And I think the majority of her problems are because you aren't there ensuring with a firm, but loving, hand your filly takes better care of herself. You guys may not have embraced the Dom/sub lifestyle, but I know you believe in providing discipline when it's needed. And, even though she's not your sub, she was gonna be your wife. And let's face it, no matter what she or her parents are spouting, Tiffany's yours, boy. She has been for years. And you need to go after your woman, just like I'm about to go capture mine and make her one happy lady."

Kyle smiled. Little Kelly was about to be ridden hard, and he was sure she'd love every minute of it. She was probably even looking forward to the light smacks Jim had promised her. "Thanks, Jim. I think you're right. It's time I staked my claim and let Tiffany know she has a man who's had it with her shenanigans."

"Hoo-Hah! You go get her boy!"

A father? Tiffany was going to have a baby? As the significance of what Jim told him sank in, Kyle decided his friend was right. Getting out a piece of paper, Kyle began making plans for the Tiffany Morgan stakeout. And he didn't intend to let up until his girl was in his arms again.

# Chapter 13

The next day, which was Sunday, Kyle loaded his car with all the equipment he thought he'd need for an extended siege, drove to Tiffany's neighborhood, parked on a nearby street, where he could watch her house through binoculars, and began his vigil. It was 6:00 a.m., so all was quiet.

When the Morgans left for church at ten, Tiffany wasn't among them, nor was Mrs. Morgan, which meant she was probably staying home to take care of Tiffany. Though he doubted Patrick or Chrissy could see him, Kyle slumped down in his seat.

Father and daughter returned at nearly a quarter to twelve and went inside. About fifteen minutes later, Chrissy left the house dressed in a formfitting T-shirt and jeans about the same time a guy rolled up on a motorcycle. The biker must be Chrissy's new boyfriend. What was his name? Willy, Wally? Kyle couldn't remember what she'd called him, but he laid odds the relationship wouldn't last more than a month.

A biker? Really? When the youth made room for Chrissy to sit behind him, Kyle noticed neither of them wore helmets. That foolishness angered him so much he almost slammed down his binoculars.

Chrissy should be spanked for not showing an ounce of the common sense she'd been born with. She knew better than to go off bareheaded on a bike, and the Wally kid she rode with was clueless about safety, which made Kyle even angrier.

He was tempted to go after them and make a citizen's arrest, and if Chrissy mouthed off at him again, he'd show her what a domineering older brother did to his kid sister, by turning her over his knee and spanking her insolent butt.

Despite the satisfaction that might bring him, Kyle stayed where he was. He had enough trouble handling Tiffany. Someone else would need to take responsibility for Chrissy. But it certainly wasn't going to be the knuckleheaded kid she currently dated.

The pimply-faced idiot was probably no more than one or two years older than Chrissy herself, which made him way too young to know how to handle a Morgan girl. Chrissy shouldn't even be dating, in Kyle's opinion. She was starting her junior year in the fall, so she should be studying for college. Putting the kids out of his mind, Kyle returned to watching the house.

Chrissy and her biker boyfriend returned close to midnight. Yeah, school was out, but a girl her age should be home no later than 11:00 p.m. _Not your problem, Kyle,_ he reminded himself. All the lights in the house were out by twelve-thirty, and he'd seen no sign of Tiffany all day long. Deciding to wait out the night in his car, Kyle pushed the seat back and tried to get some sleep.

Bleary eyed, Kyle was at the binoculars at six again. He expected Patrick to be leaving for work about seven. Patrick commuted into the city by train, which was a forty-five minute ride. When eight o'clock rolled by and no one left the house, Kyle knew something had to be up. Patrick could be on vacation, but Kyle doubted it. He continued to watch and was surprised to see Chrissy walk out of the house carrying what appeared to be her mother's purse. She was followed shortly by her mother and father, who appeared to be holding up a skinny teenager.

Shaking his head, Kyle increased the power on his binoculars and watched as the scrawny red head with dull green eyes broke loose, turned toward the bushes, fell to her knees and vomited. _Holy shit! That was Tiffany. His Tiffany._ Throwing down the binoculars, Kyle started his car and sped over to the house. Had he been on duty, he would have given himself a ticket.

Torn between stark fear, shock, and blazing anger, he was ripping out his key and leaping from the car before he'd even engaged the power brake. That was his girl who was sick, and he needed to be with her, at her side, helping her, feeding her.

God, she had to have lost over thirty pounds, which would bring her to an anorexic weight of ninety. He'd last seen her six weeks ago Friday. How could she have changed so drastically in just a little over a month? Hadn't she eaten or slept at all during those six weeks? Charging toward her like a mad lion out to protect his mate, Kyle wasn't going to take no for an answer. And Lord help her father if he even attempted to try and stop him.

Patrick and her mother were assisting Tiffany to her feet, when Kyle stepped in. Tiffany could barely walk, she was so weak.

"Don't worry, pumpkin, I've got you," Patrick Morgan murmured.

"Patrick," Kyle said firmly. "I'll take her now."

Tiffany turned and glared at him. "Get away from me."

He could see the dark circles under her eyes more clearly as he shook his head. Then wrapping his arms about her, he gently picked her up. "Sorry, babe. That's not going to happen."

She repeatedly beat her fists against his shoulders in protest, but he hardly felt the impact. "Put me down!" Though she was shouting at him, her hoarse voice sounded more like a croak.

"We were going to take her to the doctor," Patrick Morgan told Kyle.

"Looks like you should have done that a few weeks ago," Kyle said, frowning at Tiffany when she landed a fist on his ear. "Stop that right now, sweetie, before I decide you need a paddling more than you need a doctor."

Tiffany was breathing so hard, Kyle could almost see steam coming out of her ears, but she ceased fighting him. Then he saw her eyes welling with tears.

"Shh, Tiff," Kyle said drawing her closer. "It's all right. I'm here, now, and I'm going to take care of you."

She shook her head, but made no further protest. Her brief resistance had used up all her remaining energy so she laid her head against his chest and cried softly.

Patrick gave Kyle a nod. "I'd argue with you, son, except that's more energy than she's shown in the past six weeks. I'll let you take her for now, but, Kyle, that's my little girl you're holding there. If she decides she would rather be home with us than with you, I will do everything in my power to get her back. Just so we understand each other."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir," Kyle assured as he turned and carried Tiffany over to his car.

"I don't want to be with you," she complained as he tenderly placed her in the passenger seat and buckled her in."

Holding her chin, he gazed into her eyes. "And I think you're lying, little girl. Do you remember what I do to little girls who lie?"

She nodded then started to cry again. He pressed the seat back to make her more comfortable then handed her a small box of tissues. "Relax. I'm going to take you to the doctor, first, and afterward you and I will have a long talk where you can recite all the reasons you hate me."

As he slid into the car, he heard her say, "I don't hate you."

"Close your eyes and rest, Tiff. That's your only job for right now."

"I'm sure it's just the flu."

Kyle started the car and backed out of the driveway before he glanced over at her. "How long have you been feeling ill?"

"For a few weeks," she answered tiredly.

"Well, you could have a really bad bug, but we'll let the doctor take a look and see what he says."

"I'm afraid of what he's going to say," she admitted, and he could tell she was a lot more scared than she wanted to let on.

Reaching for her hand, he gave her fingers a light squeeze. "I'll be right beside you, Tiff, so you have no reason to be afraid any longer. All right?"

She held onto his hand and closed her eyes.

Kyle parked the car then walked around to get Tiffany. She'd fallen asleep, so he carefully undid her seat belt and lifted her into his arms. She weighed next to nothing, and he got the brief impression she was wasting away.

She woke up and put her hand over her mouth as he started to carry her. "Kyle. I think I'm going to be sick again."

"Breathe through your nose," he ordered. "And try to relax. When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

"I haven't felt up to eating much for several weeks. Please, I really need you to put me down."

"We're almost there. I'll take you into the restroom first, if you want."

"You can't go into the ladies room with me!" She sounded scandalized.

"Honey. Right now, you are not going anywhere without me. If you need to throw up, I'm going to be right there beside you. Here we are," he said, pushing his way into the ladies room and carrying Tiffany into a stall before he slowly let her down until her feet touched the floor. Then he held her arms and watched her."

She stood still, just breathing for a moment before she said, "I need to sit down."

"Is this because you feel dizzy, or do you need me to pull your sweats and panties down for you first?"

"I don't know," she said and started to cry.

He drew her into his arms and held her close as he rubbed her back. When she gave a little moan that sounded more like pleasure than distress, he said, "Feeling better?"

"A little. The rubbing feels good."

"Okay, I want to pick you up and carry you into the doctor's office."

"No. Put your arm around me and let me walk with you. I don't want to appear like a total invalid."

"Well, I don't want you wearing yourself out, so we'll compromise. I'll carry you to the door then support you as you walk with me into the waiting room."

She nodded. He knew she wanted to argue, but she didn't feel strong enough to do it. So, picking her up again, he grew inordinately pleased when she put her arms about his neck."

When he didn't put her down at the door, she scowled at him. "Kyle. We had an agreement."

"I know, but I'm being selfish. I don't want to let you go, so you're going to have to humor me for a little longer." He settled her in one of the waiting room chairs then said, "Stay here. I'll sign you in."

Walking up to the reception desk, he signed the register then leaned in through the window. "I have Tiffany Morgan with me. She's here to see Dr. Sloan, and she's not well at all. If possible, I'd like to have her wait in one of the examining rooms rather than out here.

The receptionist nodded. "Let me call Dr. Sloan's assistant, Nancy. She'll be able to help you."

Kyle nodded, but remained standing at the desk. When a nurse stepped out, he saw the name on the chart she held and walked over to her before she could call Tiffany's name. "Nancy, right?" When she nodded, he said, "I'm here with Miss Morgan. Do you have a room where she can lie down and wait for Doctor Sloan?"

"And you are?"

"Kyle Sinclair, her fiancé, and soon to be husband."

Nancy nodded. Then glanced over at Tiffany who looked like she was about to fall out of the chair. "You sure she shouldn't be at the hospital?"

"Not sure at all. If Dr. Sloan thinks that's where she should be, I'll take her there."

"Let's have the doctor examine her first. Go ahead and get her, Mr. Sinclair. I'll wait here."

"Thank you." Kyle returned to pick Tiffany up again. She started to protest, but he shook his head. "Quiet. We're going to take you to an examination room. So, relax."

Tiffany glanced over at Nancy who gave her a smile then led them into a small room. Kyle laid her down on the examining table, and pressed on her chest when she tried to sit up. "You stay there for a few minutes." Then Kyle walked to the other side and held Tiffany's hand while the nurse took Tiffany's temperature and blood pressure."

"Temp is 98.6. Blood pressure is 100 over 60. A little low. How are you feeling, Tiffany?"

"Like I'm going to throw up all the time."

"Headache?"

"Yes."

"Any other aches or pains?"

She glanced over at Kyle, who nodded for her to continue. With a sigh, she said, "My breasts hurt."

"Okay. I'll get you a gown. Take everything off, and Dr. Sloan will come in and see you shortly."

"Everything?" Tiffany asked. "But I think I've just got the flu."

Nancy nodded. "Maybe, but Dr. Sloan is going to want to give you a full examination today. It's been over a year, so it's time."

Tiffany shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't think it's—"

"Tiffany..." Kyle warned. "Let's let the doctor decide, shall we? I'll help her."

Nancy nodded, but Tiffany tried to sit up. "No!"

Kyle pressed a finger to her lips and pressed her down again. "Enough." Tiffany scowled at him so he said to Nancy. "Go ahead and leave us alone for a few minutes. She'll be ready."

When Nancy left, Tiffany said, "I don't need your help, and I don't... What are you doing?"

"Helping you undress, sweetie. And if you give me any more argument, after I remove your sweat pants and panties, I 'm going to turn you over my knee and warm your seat up with a few firm swats until you settle down."

She started to struggle with him, but he held her shoulders. "Do you want a spanking, Tiffany? Because you're heading the right way for one now."

"You're a bully, Kyle Sinclair."

"And you, love of my life, are acting like a brat. Sit up so I can remove your top and bra."

She folded her arms over her chest and shook her head.

"Feeling nauseated?"

"Not at the moment," she answered, glaring defiantly at him.

"Good." That said, he lifted her, turned her over, and started to bare her lower half first.

"No, Kyle! Please. I'm sorry."

He continued to undress her, rubbing her as he did until she relaxed. Then, helping her sit up again, he removed her top and bra. She was little more than skin and bones. Her breasts were a trifle larger, and her bottom still had a nice round curve to it, but the rest of her was comprised of sharp, boney angles. Once she was nude, he helped her into the cloth gown and covered her with a paper sheet.

"Okay, why don't you lie back and relax?"

Her teeth started to chatter. Kyle thought it might be nerves, but rather than take a chance, he opened the door to ask if they had a blanket. They didn't, but they lent him a doctor's coat to cover her with.

As he tucked it around her, Tiffany started to cry again. With a sigh, he helped her sit up and got on the table behind her.

"What are you doing?" she asked between small sobs.

"Helping you warm up and calm down. Sit here between my legs and rest against my chest while I put my arms around you."

When Tiffany didn't argue, he said, "Good girl. Close your eyes and relax. You can even sleep if you want to. You're safe in my arms, Tiff. Nothing bad will happen while I've got you. I promise."

She didn't say anything, but after a moment he felt her settle against him. That was how the doctor walked in and found them.

Dr. Sloan appeared to be a kindly, older gentleman probably around the age of Tiffany's father. He wore the requisite white coat and had a stethoscope draped around his neck. But, other than the slight rise of his eyebrows at Kyle, he didn't appear at all fazed at having two patients lying on his examining table.

"I wasn't aware this was a two-for-one," Dr. Sloan said softly with a smile as he sat on the small stool in the room to flip through Tiffany's chart. When he was done, he glanced at Kyle. "I don't believe we've met."

"Kyle Sinclair," Kyle answered, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken his sleeping beauty. "I'm Tiffany's soon-to-be-husband."

Dr. Sloan grinned. "Nancy mentioned something about a dominant man being in the room with Tiffany. I guess you must be he."

"Guilty as charged," Kyle answered with a responding grin.

"Looks like she's resting peacefully. Are you aware of her problems?"

"Yes. Kyle filled the doctor in on what he knew then added, "And though I can't be certain, I don't believe she's had her period since May or April."

"So, you think she's pregnant, right?"

"It's a possibility. The first time we made love, we did it without protection. She was going to talk with you about going on the pill, but canceled the appointment when we broke up due to a misunderstanding. I finally put a stop to that foolishness today."

"I see. So, you haven't been with her since she started showing these symptoms?"

"No. If I had, we would have been here much sooner. I'm not sure why she was so resistant to coming her, but she keeps insisting she's got the flu. Though she was clearly scared when I spoke to her earlier, so I suspect she believes it's something much more serious."

"Well, I hate to wake her up, but if I'm going to examine her, I think we'll have to. She looks really comfortable at the moment."

"All right if I stay where I am and hold her?"

"I think we can work around that, if she doesn't mind."

"Actually, I wasn't thinking of giving her much choice in the matter."

The doctor shook his head. "Sorry, but I have my license to consider. A patient suing me for examining her under duress will not look good to my insurance company."

"Understand," Kyle said, leaning forward to give Tiffany a kiss. "Sweetie, Dr. Sloan is here, and he'd like to talk to you."

Tiffany blinked open her eyes. "I fell asleep," she said, sounding surprised.

"Yes, you did. How are you feeling, honey?"

"Better," she admitted, although her tone indicated she found it unlikely."

"Tiffany? Why don't you sit up for a bit while I listen to your heart and lungs?"

Kyle eased her into a sitting position and pushed her a few inches away from him, but kept his hands firmly on her hips. She breathed as the doctor directed while he listened with his stethoscope. Then he felt under her chin.

"Glands don't appear to be swollen. Open your mouth and say 'Ahh', Tiffany."

She did as the doctor asked but gagged. Kyle squeezed her hips a little to let her know he was still there, and she settled.

"Ears, now," the doctor said as he used his instrument to examine the inside of her ears. Then he took a step back. "Well, Nancy reported your blood pressure is low, you have a headache and sore breasts, along with a general feeling of malaise, and you're nauseated with some vomiting. Is that correct?" When Tiffany nodded, he asked, "Anything else bothering you?"

"No, sir. Not really. Do you think I've got the flu?"

Dr. Sloan shook his head. "No, I don't think that's it. You aren't running a fever, and nothing else I've seen indicates a viral or bacterial infection. When was your last period? Do you remember?"

Tiffany didn't say anything for a moment then shook her head. "No. With everything that's been going on, I haven't given it much thought. Early May I think."

"Well, it's been over a year since you've had a gynecological examination, so I'd like to do one."

"No," Tiffany started to protest, but Kyle gave her hips a firm pinch.

"Ow!" Turning, she scowled at him. "I don't need an examination," she protested.

"The doctor disagrees with you, honey, and so do I, Would you prefer I leave the room?" he asked, not wanting to go, but willing to make it easier for her if she didn't want him there while she was being examined.

"No," she answered sullenly.

"Okay, Tiffany. I'm going to go get Nancy to assist me. In the meantime, rest against your future husband and relax, and we'll take a look in a few minutes."

When Dr. Sloan left the room, Tiffany glared at Kyle. "Why did you tell him we were getting married?"

"Because we are," he answered, pulling her against him.

"I didn't agree," she said with a small trace of petulance.

"Actually, you did, and I never agreed to break the engagement off. So, as far as I'm concerned, we are still engaged."

Tiffany opened her mouth to argue but shut it again when Dr. Sloan and his nurse entered the room.

"Okay, Tiffany. Put your feet up here on these stirrups then scoot forward a bit."

Tiffany slowly put her feet up, but Kyle had to push on her butt to get her to move forward.

"Perfect. Relax your thighs and spread your knees apart."

Tiffany didn't move, so Kyle leaned forward. "It's all right, honey. I'm here," he soothed, rubbing the sides of her hips to relax her. Her knees slid apart with ease.

"Okay, Tiffany, press down, dear."

Tiffany groaned, but from the way the doctor proceeded, Kyle gathered she'd obeyed. So, he ran his hands under her gown over her breasts and down along the sides of her ribcage. She gave a small moan.

"Easy, Tiffany. I'm almost done," Dr. Sloan informed her while he took a swab of her cervix. Okay, the area around your cervix appears a little swollen and blue, which is normal, but not definitive."

"Normal for what?" Tiffany asked uncertainly.

"I'll want to take a blood test to be certain," the doctor continued, removing the speculum and standing up between Tiffany's legs. "Let's do a manual check as well," he said, and Tiffany gave a little grunt when he pressed his gloved fingers inside her and palpated her uterus.

Tiffany hissed out a breath.

"Sore?" Dr. Sloan asked. When Tiffany nodded, he drew his fingers out and held his hand out to Nancy who applied lubricant to his middle finger. "From the feel of your cervix alone, I'd say you're about six weeks along, which is too early for anything but a blood or urine test to confirm accurately. Now, bear down for me, Tiffany."

Kyle waited, as did the doctor. Then the doctor glanced at Kyle, so he bent forward. "Tiffany, if you want to get out of here without a hot and sore bottom, I suggest you do exactly as the doctor says."

Tiffany scowled, but clearly obeyed him for the doctor said, "Good. Relax." The doctor continued to press on Tiffany's insides. "You're wincing. Does this hurt?"

"A little," she admitted.

Nodding, he removed his fingers then glanced at Kyle. "I think you're right."

"About what?" Tiffany asked, sounding a little frustrated.

Kyle leaned forward again. "Both the doctor and I suspect you are pregnant."

"What?" Tiffany straightened with a jerk. Kyle put his hands on her hips to steady her.

"Doctor, is there any activity we need to be careful about at this stage? Sexual intercourse, corporal punishment, or any other bodily exercise?"

"Kyle!" Tiffany scolded, glaring at him.

The doctor chuckled. "Assuming we can get the nausea under control and she's feeling up to it, normal sexual intercourse shouldn't be a problem. I don't think you want her hanging from chandeliers, or anything too strenuous, but adding a little spice to your play won't hurt her, and gathering from your exchange, I suspect she might even enjoy it."

"So, a firm over the knee spanking wouldn't be frowned upon?"

Tiffany slapped at his chest, but he held her hand and waited to hear the doctor's reply.

"I have a feeling Tiffany may frown upon it, but as long as you take care to make sure no undo pressure is placed on her stomach, there should be no problem at all if you continue as you have been."

"Thank you, Doctor. Did you hear that, honey? I suggest you behave, or you and I are going to be revisiting some of our earlier practices."

Tiffany crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the doctor. "Did you really have to tell him that?"

"Sorry, Tiffany, but he asked, so I wanted to be honest with him. Now, I'm going to need you to lie back while I examine your breasts."

Kyle took that as his cue to get up, but Tiffany grabbed at his arm when he started to walk away, so he stayed and kept his hand on her shoulder as she placed her hands under her head while the doctor finished his examination.

"The tenderness in your breasts and the nausea you're experiencing is perfectly normal, Tiffany. So, don't worry about it. I am going to order a blood test, to make certain. But I'm 99 percent convinced you're pregnant."

Tiffany groaned.

"Given you've lost a lot of weight, I'm going to prescribe some vitamins and other medicine to help restore your strength until I see you next month." The doctor gazed at Kyle, then. "Have you had any experience giving injections?"

Kyle ignored Tiffany's squawk of indignation and nodded. "I worked as a medic in the army, and completed EMT training but joined the police force instead."

"Too bad. I think you'd be good working with patients. All right, since you have experience, I'm going to give you a few prescriptions for Tiffany. I'll make sure all necessary instructions are included, but call if you have any questions. Both injections should be given intramuscularly. I assume that won't be a problem for you?"

Kyle gave his head a single shake, knowing Tiffany was not going to be happy about this, but he had no problem with it at all.

"Good. One of them may make her a little woozy, so I'll let you fill the prescription and see to their administration." Then, returning his attention to Tiffany, he said, "I'll send the technician in for a blood sample, but you can get dressed. I'll want to see you again in one month. If the blood test turns out to be negative, I'll want to see you sooner, but I sincerely doubt that will be the case. We'll call you with the results as soon as we have them."

Kyle advised Dr. Sloan he wanted to add his numbers to the file, which the doctor agreed would be helpful. Then he reached over and clasped Tiffany's hand. "I can see I'm leaving you in capable hands."

Tiffany nodded, but gave a small growl as she did.

Before Dr. Sloan left, Kyle asked him if there were any foods he should concentrate on to help Tiffany gain weight. The doctor gave him several suggestions, including adding a protein shake drink to her diet then blending in a scoop of ice cream, to make it more palatable, and adding an egg for protein as long as it's pasteurized.

"Thanks," Kyle said. "I'll be sure to add those items to my shopping list."

Tiffany snapped her head around to glare at him. "Don't be so sure I'm going to stay with you, Kyle Sinclair. I still haven't forgiven you."

Kyle bent forward, pressing his forehead to hers. "I know and understand. But believe me when I say I plan to do everything I can to convince you to let me take care of you, as I have wanted to do for the past six weeks."

When fresh Tears rolled down her cheeks, Kyle wiped them away with his thumb and kissed her.

Dr. Sloan left them then, and Kyle insisted upon helping Tiffany get dressed.

"I am old enough to dress myself, Kyle," she snapped, grabbing her clothes out of his hands.

Kyle started to scold when he saw her complexion go suddenly pale, and she put a hand out to steady herself.

"Tiffany Anne Morgan, unless you wish for me to take you firmly in hand this minute, you will stop this idiocy and let me help you.

Tiffany scowled at him but handed him her clothes without further protest. Noticing the sheen of tears in her eyes, Kyle drew her into his arms.

"It's okay, sweetie. You got a little dizzy. That's all. Once you feel like eating again, you'll get stronger. I promise."

With a nod, she let him finish dressing her, and was sitting down while he knelt before her to tie on her sneakers when a knock at the door signaled the phlebotomist had arrived. Seeing the way Tiffany stared at the medical technician as though the woman had sprouted horns, Kyle rose and introduced himself.

# Chapter 14

Wearing blue scrubs and carrying a plastic tote filled with needles and vials, the perky black woman accepted Kyle's hand with a smile and said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Sinclair." Then she turned to Tiffany who'd grown suddenly pale. "Okay, Miss Tiffany, I've been instructed to take four vials of blood." She set her tote down on the counter and pulled out a flexible plastic tourniquet. "Do you have a preference as to which arm?"

Tiffany shook her head but folded her arms over her chest. It wasn't a strong resistance, but enough for Kyle to grasp a wrist and pull her up out of the chair. Tiffany was letting out a sharp squawk of protest when he pulled her onto his lap and secured her there while he raised her left sleeve and held her arm out for the phlebotomist. Surprisingly, Tiffany raised no argument or complaint over his highhandedness, but merely pressed her face against his shoulder.

He exchanged a smile with the medical technician who went to work without a comment, as though having a man hold a woman on his lap while she drew blood was a common occurrence. Who knew? Maybe it was.

After the blood had been drawn, prescriptions handed out, and Tiffany's next appointment made, Kyle insisted upon carrying her out to the car despite her protests. Buckling her in, he said, "Next stop for you, my darling, is city hall where you are going to marry me today."

Tiffany shook her head. "I'm still not sure I want to marry you, Kyle Sinclair."

He gave her a quick kiss. "Well, that's too bad, since it looks like you're not getting what you want today."

Shutting her door, he walked around to his side of the car. The moment he got in she said a little sullenly, "You can't force me to marry you, Kyle."

He regarded her with an arched eyebrow and started the car. "No?"

"No."

He shrugged. "Perhaps not, but I bet I can get you to change your mind pretty quickly once I put you over my knee," he commented offhandedly as he inserted his key in the car and started it up to get the air conditioner going again. July tended to be hot in Connecticut."

Tiffany growled at him. "I won't be bullied into marrying you. And before I agree to accept you as my husband, I want to know exactly what happened between you and Kelly."

"What did she tell you?" he asked glancing over at her.

"Nothing, other than the fact she thought she had a date with you the night before your birthday. So, did you break off a date with me to be with her?"

"This is going to be more than a five minute conversation, Tiff. However, I agree you have a right to know exactly what happened before you marry me, so, I'll postpone getting the license until we've had a chance to talk. However, for this particular conversation to occur, you need to agree to be in bed first. My bed. Acceptable?"

Tiffany regarded him through blue eyes that appeared a lot clearer than they had earlier. She already had a little more color to her cheeks and hadn't complained of nausea since they're visit to the doctor. He was pleased by the changes, although he still wanted her to rest and put some weight on. In the meantime, he waited, key in hand, for her decision.

Finally, she nodded.

"Good. First I want to stop and get your prescriptions filled and buy some groceries, then we'll go to my place where I'll get you comfortable, make sure you take your medicine without any problems, try and convince you to eat something, and then we'll talk. If you're tired, we can wait until after you take a nap. Do you need to stop at your house to pick up anything before I stop at the store?"

"Yes, please," she said quietly. Then, frowning, she asked, "Are you really planning on giving me a shot?"

"If that's what the doctor ordered, then yes. Are you planning on creating a problem for me?"

"I haven't decided yet," she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared forward.

"Tiffany?"

"Yes?"

"You do know I love you, and only want you to feel better, right?"

She glanced over at him and nodded.

"Good. So, I want you to understand I'm saying this only with love, but if you even try to give me trouble later, little girl, your bottom is going to pay for it in spades."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Laughing, he reversed out of the parking space and drove to her parents' house. Her father was standing at the door by the time Kyle had gotten around to help Tiffany out of the car. "Be good," he warned, "or your father is going to see firsthand how I punish his daughter when she gets bratty with me."

Tiffany smiled at him. "Try it, Mr. Sinclair, and my father will also see how his daughter can bring an overbearing, dominant man down to his knees."

"Aw, Tiffany," he said, wrapping a hand about her waist. "If I knew you wanted to kiss me so badly, I wouldn't have driven here in such a hurry."

She laughed, and he smiled at her, noticing at the same time how her father's tense shoulders instantly eased. When they reached him, Tiffany stood on tiptoe to give her father a kiss on the cheek. Clearly, she was feeling much better, though Kyle suspected the probability she was carrying his child hadn't totally sunk in, yet.

"You're looking much better, pumpkin. What did the doctor say?"

Kyle watched as Tiffany's expression sobered and her eyes clouded, so he gave her waist a little squeeze and said, "Dr. Sloan told Tiffany not to worry, but he took a few blood tests and gave me a couple of prescriptions to help her gain weight and rebuild her strength."

Patrick Morgan nodded. "I see. Any particular reason he gave those prescriptions to you?"

Kyle tilted his head. "Well, since I told him we were getting married as soon as Tiffany felt up to it, and that I intended to take care of her going forward, I guess he considered it appropriate, at least until she's back to her normal, feisty self."

"Pumpkin? Did you agree to this? Do you want to go with Kyle?"

With a blush, she nodded. "Yes, Daddy. We need to talk first, but I want to stay at Kyle's while we straighten things out. I need to get some of my belongings first."

Patrick Morgan stood aside and waved her in. "Go ahead and get what you need, pumpkin, while Kyle and I have a little chat."

Tiffany gave Kyle a worried frown, but he motioned for her to go on. "I'll be right behind you, sweetie. Go say hi to your mom and bratty sister, collect your things, and I'll come get them for you."

"I heard that, Kyle Sinclair," Chrissy shouted.

"Very good, Christine Marie Morgan. I intended you should," he called then glanced over at Patrick. "Go for a short walk?"

Patrick Morgan nodded as Chrissy came outside to battle with Kyle. "Look—" she started.

He pointed a finger at her. "No, little missy, you look. What you said to me the other day on the phone was totally uncalled for, and I have a mind to let you know how much I don't appreciate it. So, I suggest you act like the mature young woman I know you can be, and help your sister pack."

When she glared at him with her mouth hanging open, Kyle turned and walked down the drive with Patrick.

"When did you speak with Chrissy on the phone?" Patrick asked.

"July 4th weekend. I called from a friend's unlisted number, and I think Chrissy was waiting for a call from her biker boyfriend."

"Walter?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what she said his name was. Anyway, she took it upon herself to light into me, and her language wasn't entirely ladylike. I could understand her anger but not her attitude."

Patrick simply nodded. "You weren't going to give up, were you?"

"Would you have, had our situations been reversed?"

"Probably not. Though, seeing Tiffany now, I begin to suspect I was mistaken to listen only to her words. I should have seen her anguish was primarily a result of her wounded pride. Had I been seeing her more through your eyes than mine, I might have understood her protests were driven more by hurt and a need for reassurance than a desire for separation. I shouldn't have worked so hard to keep you two apart."

"Thank you for that," Kyle said. "I understand your desire to protect your daughter. I most likely would have done the same if I'd been in your shoes, but I also wished you could have seen how badly we needed each other."

"I did see your pain, Kyle, and I hated doing what I thought needed to be done. The fact I did it did not mean I enjoyed it. I'd like to say I'd never try to keep you two apart again, but if Tiffany desired it—"

"Then, by all means, protect her, sir. Just don't alienate me in the process. Let her tell me directly she doesn't want to see me rather than run interference for her. She knows her mind well enough I can tell when she is serious versus merely challenging me to make a stand."

"And, this morning? She sounded serious to me, son."

"When she's serious, she makes statements, she doesn't give commands. A part of her knows I take any orders she gives me as a challenge, so she only issues them when she wants me to prove I can handle her."

"Interesting point, Kyle. I hadn't realized that, but you're right. She wasn't telling you what she was feeling, she was telling you what to do, knowing you would ignore her words and do what you wanted anyway, if you still loved her. So, tell me the truth. What does the doctor think is wrong with her?"

"I should probably let her tell you that when she's ready, sir. But I will say it is nothing you need be concerned about, and I will take excellent care of her."

Tiffany stepped outside the door and gave the two of them a wary look.

Kyle frowned. "You shouldn't be carrying that case. I told you I'd get it."

"Sorry."

He sighed. "Sure you've got everything?"

At her nod, he took the carrying case from her hand, and clasped his fingers around hers. Since her gaze was fixed on her father, he waited.

"Bye, Daddy. I'll call you when I hear anything."

Her father bent down to kiss her cheek. "How about you come by instead, so I can see for myself how you're doing?"

She smiled. "I think that can be arranged." Then she gave Kyle a nod as a signal she was ready to leave, so he led her over to his car and got her and her case settled. After offering a wave to her family, who stood outside their front door watching them, he got in and drove to the nearest mega food and drug store.

Once he'd parked, he said, "You can come in with me if you want, but you're going to have to ride in one of those motorized carts."

"I'll wait here," she said grouchily.

"Fine." He got out of the car, walked around to open her door.

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide with uncertainty over his intentions.

"Relax, sweetie. I'm only going to lower your seat again, so you can rest more comfortably. I'm also going to leave you with the keys in case it gets too warm and you want to run the air conditioner. I shouldn't be longer than a half hour." After kissing her, he dropped the keys in her hands, shut her door and walked into the store.

Kyle dropped off the prescriptions first then did his shopping, making sure he got Tiffany a package of her favorite Pepperidge Farm cookies and a gallon of her favorite Cookies and Cream ice cream as well as lots of healthy fresh fruits and vegetables. He wasn't a great cook, but he could see that anything he did fix was supplemented with things that would get her back to full strength much faster.

When he returned to get the prescriptions, the pharmacist made sure he knew how to give the injections and that he should keep both vials refrigerated. Kyle assured the pharmacist he would follow the directions carefully. After paying for his items, he returned to his car, determined to take his girl home where she belonged.

She'd turned on the air conditioner then fallen asleep. She looked peaceful, but he could see the goose bumps on her arms. Retrieving the blanket, he covered her then drove as smoothly as he could to get her to his place without waking her. Leaving her in the car with the air conditioner on, he grabbed all the shopping bags first so his arms would be free to carry her then quickly put everything away before returning for Tiffany. She was still asleep.

She didn't awaken when he retrieved his keys, or even when he unbuckled her seat belt. But she stirred slightly and opened her eyes to look at him when he picked her up.

"I fell asleep again," she slurred.

"That you did," he said, pleased she'd relaxed enough to rest.

"I don't understand it. I hardly slept at all when I was home. I felt too bad. But I've fallen asleep on you twice, and my stomach seems much more settled."

"And how are you feeling emotionally?" he asked with a glance down at her puzzled expression.

She thought about his question for a moment then said, "Content. And I haven't felt that way since... Well, since I saw you before your birthday."

"I'm feeling a lot better, too, now I have you in my arms again. So, I suggest we simply enjoy being with each other rather than question the whys or wherefores of our newfound happiness."

She scowled. "I still want to know what was going on with you and Kelly."

"And I intend to tell you, as soon as I get you settled," he said opening the door to his apartment. "However, first I want you to get into some comfy clothes then lie down on the bed."

"Kyle, I'm not going to have sex with you before we talk."

"And I don't expect you to, but I still expect you to do as you're told."

Frowning, she asked "So, why do you want me on the bed?"

"Because I want you relaxed," he replied, carefully putting her on her feet in his bedroom. "Here's your case. Go ahead and put some jammies on while I get your medicine together."

Placing her hands on her hips, she glowered at him. "I don't want a shot. I'll take pills if you insist, but no shot."

With a shake of his head, he drew her close and kissed her until she relaxed against him, then he gave her a very light swat. "Get changed, brat, and we'll talk once you're more comfortable," he ordered, leaving her standing in his bedroom as he shut the door and went into the kitchen.

The instructions were pretty simple, so Kyle filled both disposable needles to the indicated mark and re-capped them then read the labels on the pills to make sure there wasn't a contraindication to giving her everything together. Taking out the appropriate number of pills, he next got down his blender and made her a vanilla milkshake with ice cream, adding in two protein drinks and a pasteurized. Putting the pills on a saucer, and the needles in his pocket, he got down a small tray and added a single pink rose in a milk-glass bud vase, along with the enhanced protein drink and her saucer of pills, then carried them into his bedroom.

Tiffany, dressed in a cute short nightie with matching pantalets, stood in his bathroom brushing her hair. When she saw the tray, she smiled and came toward him.

"What's this?"

"Your pills and a milkshake made with your favorite ice cream."

"Really?" she asked, the excitement in her voice obvious as she picked up the drink and sipped it through the straw he'd put into it. "It's delicious, Kyle."

He held out the saucer for her next. "Go ahead and take your pills with it. The ice cream will help coat your stomach should it take exception to the medicine."

With a shrug, she did as he suggested then sat down on the bed and continued to sip her milkshake. He watched her for a moment then set the tray down on his dresser and sat down beside her, pleased when she gave him a contented smile.

"Feeling better?" he asked, running his hand through her once silky red hair. Her illness had turned it dry and dull, but he had confidence the shine would return.

Giving a nod, she put down her drink. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Once you finish your drink, I'll fix you another one if you want, but before I do, I want you to lie tummy down on the bed."

Her eyes grew wide. "No, Kyle—"

"Tiff, I'm not going to accept an argument on this. I'll let you finish your drink first, but then, I want you tummy down on the bed."

She inched away from him, and he let her. He expected a certain amount of resistance, so he wasn't surprised, but he was resolved to see she got everything she needed, whether she wanted it or not.

Continuing to give her head a shake, she said more than a little nervously. "I'm not going to let you do it, Kyle."

He simply leaned forward and kissed her until he felt her relax again. "Yes, you will, Tiff, because you know I'm only trying to help you get better."

When she opened her mouth to argue, he placed a finger over her lips. "And you also know if you give me an argument, you will find yourself over my knees getting a spanking before you get your shot, which will only make the process that much more uncomfortable."

"You wouldn't."

With an arch of his eyebrows, he asked, "What makes you think so?"

"Because it will make me cry. And you don't want to make me cry anymore."

"You're right. I don't, but that doesn't mean I won't. You're getting all the medicine the doctor prescribed for you. Whether or not you take it willingly is up to you. I've told you what _I_ intend to do. You need to decide how _you_ will react."

"I want to go home."

He regarded her evenly. "If you're serious, I will take you home after your shots."

"Shots? You're giving me more than one?"

"Two to be precise, but you've nothing to worry about. I've been told I'm pretty good at giving injections. Supposedly, the way I do it doesn't hurt at all."

She picked up her milkshake again and took a sip, then put it down again.

He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not in any great hurry, Tiff, so you can take all the time you want, but I have no intention of discussing what happened between Kelly and me until you've finished your drink and received your shots."

She frowned then rose, but he pulled her down again. "Unh uh, sweetie. You're not leaving this bed until we're done."

She picked up her glass and glared at him. He could tell she was considering giving him a battle royal.

"Try throwing that at me," he said evenly, "and you'll get a spanking whether you agree to the shots or not."

She set it down. "You're bullying me."

"No. I'm being firm with you. Why don't you lie down, so we can get the unpleasant part over, and you can finish up with your drink afterward."

Her lower lip started to tremble. "I don't want to do this."

"Why not? I've seen you're lovely butt before, so it can't be embarrassment, and I've assured you I won't hurt you, so it shouldn't be fear of discomfort, either. So, why are you resisting me?"

"How many of these are you going to have to give me?"

"Each one twice a day for the next week, possibly longer if you're not progressing as quickly as you should."

"Two shots, twice a day! Four shots daily?"

"See? You are good at math."

"Shut up," she said grumpily.

He pinched her chin. "If you'd prefer to lie over my lap, we can do it that way, too."

She jerked away from him. "I don't want to do this at all."

"Because?"

"Because... I know it will hurt. It always does. And I don't like needles."

"Very well. I can only reassure you so much, Tiff. You have to decide whether or not you'll give me your trust on your own." He rose to his feet. "I'll give you a choice: my lap or the bed."

She shook her head.

"If you continue to resist me, you're going to find yourself lying over my knees no matter what. Is that what you want?'

She shook her head and the tears started to fall.

Kyle walked into his bathroom and returned with a bottle of alcohol and two cotton balls.

Tiffany surged to her feet and started out the door. He had no idea where she thought she could go, but he grabbed her arm and, after placing the needles on the night table with the alcohol and cotton, he smoothly sat down and drew her over his lap.

She started to scream and kick, so with a sigh, he tugged her panties down to her knees then trapped her scissoring legs beneath his right thigh. "Hold still!" he ordered sharply.

"No!" Tiffany cried, struggling to get away.

Giving a regretful shake of his head, Kyle brought his hand down firmly three times on her round and now slightly pink buttocks.

She stopped struggling, but continued to cry so he rubbed the pink flesh to soothe it." Are you ready to stop fighting me, or should I continue?"

"I'll lie still," she answered between sobs.

"Good girl." He rubbed her bottom until he felt her start to relax then wet one of the cotton balls with the alcohol. "A dab of cool alcohol. Nothing to get concerned about." He picked up one of the needles and took the cap off with his teeth then pressed a finger on her buttocks. "That's just my finger, Tiff. Relax." He felt her tension ease a bit, so he slipped the needle in right above where he pressed, pushed the plunger down on the syringe then withdrew it. "One down," he said recapping the needle and reaching for the second one.

"You did it already?" she asked turning to stare at him, only to wince when she saw him remove the cap on the second needle. "I didn't feel it," she admitted a little weakly as she laid her head down again.

"Told you it wouldn't hurt. Okay, my finger again," he said, repeating the same process and waiting until he felt her relax before he slipped the second needle in about an inch away from where he'd given her the first one and depressed the plunger. Withdrawing the second needle, he said, "That's it you're done. Another swipe of alcohol, and I'll let you up." When he was done, Kyle released her legs, drew up her panties, and sat her on the bed beside him.

She instinctively rubbed the hip where he'd given her the shots.

"Hurt?" he asked, putting away his supplies.

"Not really. Just a little sore. Sorry I was such a baby about it."

He shrugged then walked into the kitchen where he broke the needles off, and tossed both the needles and their syringes into the sharps container he'd purchased so they could be properly disposed of. When he returned to the bedroom, Tiffany was lying on her stomach, crying. Getting into the bed beside her, Kyle pulled her into his arms and hugged her. When she continued to cry long after he thought she'd stop, Kyle suspected her hormones were working on her as well.

"Are you tired, sweetie?" he asked, rubbing her back.

She shook her head but didn't stop crying.

"You didn't finish your milkshake. Want to finish it now?"

She sniffed and gazed at him. "You think I'm a real basket case, don't you?"

"No. I think you're a woman who's reached the end of her rope and who needs a lot of rest and tender care. You just got a mild spanking and two shots in your butt after being told you're most likely pregnant. Trust me, shedding a few tears after that is not at all unexpected."

She calmed down and gave a soft sigh then said, "Kiss me."

"With pleasure," he replied. complying eagerly.

She curled up against him and closed her eyes. Within seconds she was asleep again. Kyle waited until he was sure he wouldn't wake her then eased out of bed to see what he could fix her for lunch. Definitely another milkshake for dessert, but her main course should be light. Perhaps a bowl of chicken noodle soup and some crackers. If she was hungrier, he'd fix something more substantial for her dinner, but considering her fragile emotional state, he should probably keep her meals light.

Kyle got out two raw chicken breasts which he boiled and then cut up and put the cooked meat in the refrigerator. After boiling some carrots, celery, and potatoes together for about twenty minutes, he let them cool as he went to check on Tiffany. She'd tossed her covers off and lay sprawled on the bed, snoring lightly. Leaving her alone, he returned to the kitchen and put some chicken stock in a pan, added the chicken and vegetables to it, and let them simmer together on a low heat. After about fifteen minutes he tasted it, and added some light seasoning. Covering the pot, he let it continue to simmer. In a separate pot, he started water to boil for noodles.

Then he got on his computer and checked his e-mail. He'd need to call Jim to let him know how things went, but that could wait. Perhaps Tiffany would even like to visit Kelly after they'd talked. Perhaps. He'd see.

# Chapter 15

It was a little past noon when Tiffany awakened and padded barefoot into the kitchen to find Kyle. "Smells good," she said with a smile.

"Hungry?"

She thought about that for second then nodded. "A little. Maybe."

"Good. Get in bed and I'll serve you there."

"I'm not an invalid, Kyle. I can eat sitting up."

"No, you can't. Not today. Today, you are eating all your meals in bed. Tomorrow, we'll see how you're feeling."

"But I'm feeling a lot better now."

He stood up. "Tiffany, are you going to argue with me about this?"

Her eyes got a little wide. "No, sir."

He pointed toward the bedroom. "Then back to bed, young lady. I'll be in shortly."

"Can't I just sit at the table while you're fixing things?"

He arched an eyebrow. "And spoil my surprise? I don't think so."

"You have another surprise for me?" she asked, her voice soft like a child's.

"Yes, I do. However, if you continue to defy my wishes, I may decide you don't deserve it after all."

She narrowed her eyes at him, as though she suspected he was only saying this to get her to obey him. In a way, she was right, but he decided her favorite cookies could be her surprise. Finally, she turned and returned to the bedroom.

He made her another milkshake, placed the cooked noodles in the bowl, then poured a healthy serving of the soup on top of them before adding a plate with three of her favorite cookies, and the rose, of course.

Since she was sitting up in bed when he walked in, he placed the tray on her lap and sat down next to her. She examined what he'd served and her eyes lit up when she noticed the cookies. With a light blush of pleasure, she said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'd like to feed you, but soup can be difficult, so, if you want to feed yourself, I'm okay with it."

"Kyle, you're being really sweet. And I love it, but I was sitting up at the table with my parents."

"Were you eating anything?"

"Not much," she admitted, taking a spoonful of soup then smiling at him. "Wow. It's delicious. You made this yourself?"

"It's not hard, but it's better for you than canned soup. Less salt and more nutrients."

She laughed. "In truth, I did eat with my parents. I just couldn't keep it down."

"Well, you seem to be doing better with that, and one of the shots I gave you is supposed to help prevent nausea, so hopefully that won't be a problem anymore."

Smiling at him, she said softly, "I'm really glad you decided to kidnap me today."

"So am I. Now, while you're eating, I'll tell you about Kelly. All right?"

The smile went out of her eyes, but she nodded.

"I was seeing Kelly last year. We'd been together for about three years when we broke up before Christmas last year."

"Why did you break up?" Tiffany asked in between spoonfuls of soup.

"Honestly, because I never loved her. I liked her and enjoyed being with her, but she became a little high maintenance."

Tiffany put down her spoon. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she was starting to need and demand more and more of my attention until I found it a chore to be with her."

Tiffany nodded, but when she didn't pick up her spoon again Kyle shook his head. "Nope. You need to eat while we talk, or I'm not going to continue telling you this story." He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the soup, but when he brought it to her lips, she clamped her lips together.

He sighed. "You can't possibly be full already, so, what's wrong?"

Frowning, she asked, "Do you think I'm high maintenance?"

"You? No, sweetie. You're about as low maintenance as women get."

"But I'm demanding a lot of your attention. So, how am I different from Kelly?"

"Eat," he said firmly, waiting until her lips parted before he fed her a spoonful of soup then lowered the spoon for another dip."

As he fed her, he said, "I do things for you because I want to do them, not because you're nagging me for the attention. You have never asked me for anything, Tiff, but even if you were as demanding of my attention as Kelly was, I wouldn't mind. Because I love you and have felt a strong connection to you since you were ten years old."

She blushed. "You spanked me then."

"Yes, I did. But only because you deserved it."

"Did you spank, Kelly?"

He stared at her and could see the hurt in her eyes, but he didn't want to lie. "Yes, sweetie, I did. Quite often, in fact. But, for us, it was more of a game."

"How can spankings be a game?" she asked, her forehead puckered in a puzzled frown.

Kyle was unsure how to explain this without putting her off even more, so he decided to be as vague as possible. "It was more pretend than real. She'd pretend to be bad, I'd pretend to be angry, and then I'd spank her, and she'd pretend to be sorry."

"So none of it was real? She wasn't just trying to get your attention?"

"She was doing exactly what I expected and wanted her to do, and I in return gave her exactly what she expected and needed from me."

"I don't think I understand."

"Okay, think of it this way. When you swear at me, do you expect me to scold for it?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"And after I scold, assuming you don't also get a swat, I kiss you, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, whenever you swear, you expect me to act a certain way. You're not really angry with me, and I'm not really angry with you. In a way, we are playing a game with set rules. That's what it was like all the time with Kelly."

"Oh. So, she expected you to spank her?"

"Yes. In fact, she wanted me to spank her, so she acted out in a way that would ensure I would."

"I think I've done that sometimes, too. I didn't necessarily want you to spank me, but I wanted to get a rise out of you."

"Yes, I know. And sometimes your antics did earn you a session over my knee. Especially when you acted bratty."

"And did it make you angry when I did that?"

"Sometimes. What made me angriest was when you did something stupid or foolish that could end up hurting you, like speeding in a school zone in the middle of winter."

"That one really hurt."

"It was meant to. However, I'm certain you no longer speed anymore, do you?"

"No, sir."

"Good girl. Now, your soup is gone. Do you want more?" When she shook her head, he said, "All right. Why don't you relax, sip your drink, and eat your cookies while I wash out your bowl and spoon, and I'll finish this story when I return."

With a nod, she leaned against the pillows, and he put her glass and plate of cookies on the table beside her then carried her tray to the kitchen. He didn't want to tell Tiffany about D/s and the things he and Kelly had done, so he'd need to tread carefully. Since enough time had passed after his birthday, she no longer appeared angry about what had occurred at the station, just unhappy. Given that, he somehow needed to redirect her focus to the event she'd witnessed, and what caused it.

When he returned, she was sipping her milkshake with a frown

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"You need to be honest with me, Tiffany. If something is upsetting you. I need to know what it is, or I can't help make it right."

"I know you've been with other women. I just didn't realize your relationships with them contained the same sort of intimacy you've had with me."

"There's a big difference though, sweetie. Take my relationship with Chrissy. I've never spanked her, but if I did, my punishment for her would not possess the same intimacy you and I share, even though it would be the same act."

"You wouldn't make her remove her clothing though, would you?"

"Probably not."

"But Kelly removed her clothing, didn't she? And you had sex with her afterward, didn't you?"

"Yes and yes. I also occasionally took the crop and paddle you saw in my bottom drawer to her butt as well, but that was something I haven't done with you."

She shrank against his pillows.

"I'm scaring you, aren't I?"

"A little," she admitted.

"That's not my intention. All I'm trying to say is even if I did some of the same things with other women I've done with you, my emotional connection with you is far stronger than any of the other relationships I've had."

She nodded. "So what happened on your birthday? Why did you help the other officer, Jim, put a gag on Kelly and beat her?"

"Before I get to that, I'd like to talk about the day before, when I canceled our date."

"You did it to see her, didn't you?"

"We'd broken up a little over six months before, but she'd sought me out at the station earlier that day and demanded I see her again."

"Why?"

"Because she was angry with her current boyfriend, Jim Evans, the one who took the paddle to her, and she wanted to make him jealous." It was a small lie, but Kyle felt it was necessary to protect Tiffany.

"So, you agreed to see her again?"

"No. I agreed to meet with her since she told me she'd make a scene at the station if I didn't. She said I'd dumped her without ensuring she was taken care of first."

"But since you'd already broken up with her, taking care of her was no longer your responsibility, was it?"

"Yes and no. I'd never offered her any sort of commitment, but I did promise not to drop her cold, which was what I did. That wasn't fair of me, so I felt I owed her. I also decided she was acting childish and needed to patch up her relationship with Jim. Because of that, I agreed to meet with her on the pretense of getting them together again. I didn't want to break my date with you, but I wanted her out of my life because I didn't want her causing even more trouble between us."

"How did you think she would cause trouble between us?"

"Exactly as she did on the day of my birthday. If she hadn't said what she did, you wouldn't have left in tears. You might have been upset with me for helping Jim, but you wouldn't have felt betrayed."

"She came to see me," Tiffany admitted. "Twice."

"Yes, I know. I was visiting with Jim when she confessed to the first visit, and Jim called me after she told him she'd done it again."

"Kelly told me he got angry with her after the first time, though she wouldn't say what happened between them. However, after I saw the way he treated her at the station, I don't think I like Jim Evans very much."

"Well, honey, they have a different relationship than we do, so you can't judge them the same way."

"Kelly said Jim had proposed to her. I don't think that's so different."

"No, that part isn't, I guess. But they do a lot more role playing than we do."

"Kelly didn't say anything about that. As a matter of fact, she admitted Jim scared her sometimes. I tried to talk her out of marrying him, but I think she's in love with him, so she wouldn't listen. "

_Oh God, if Tiffany had succeeded in getting Kelly to break up with Jim, Jim would never have forgiven me, or Tiffany_. "Sweetie, I know you want to protect Kelly, since you've become friends, but Jim loves her, and attempting to pull them apart because you don't understand their relationship would be very bad."

"Even if the relationship is hurting her?"

"It's not. I know her pretty well, and she and Jim are very much in love, they simply need to work out their dynamics together. So, do you have any other questions for me?"

She shook her head and yawned.

"Sleepy?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Are you nauseated at all?"

She shook her head. "No. Not now."

"Good. So, why don't you rest for a bit, then maybe tomorrow we can head over to city hall and get married."

She gazed at him. "I think I need to think through things a little more before I agree to marry you again."

"Well, that is your prerogative, but I give you fair warning I'm not above using sneaky tactics to get you to see things my way."

Kyle helped her get settled and noticed the secretive little smile on her face as she closed her eyes. Believing the lady's protests were nothing more than a reflection of her desire to be wooed, he decided that was exactly what he would do to get her to say yes.

Though he continued to check on her throughout the afternoon while he made a salad to go with her soup for dinner, he didn't start worrying until after 7:00 p.m., when she still wasn't awake. By 9:00 p.m., he called her home and spoke with her father.

"She's been asleep for over nine hours, and I'm beginning to get worried."

"Actually, Kyle," Patrick said in a kind voice, "I think that's a good thing. She was barely able to sleep at all here, not even when she tried pills and liquor to help her, since they only made her throw up more."

"She was taking pills and drinking at the same time?"

"I don't believe she actually took the pills with liquor, but she'd switch between the two in an effort to relax. Both her mother and I tried alternative means, but they didn't work either, and she'd end up crying through the night. I wasn't kidding when I said she showed more energy with you this morning than she's shown over the last six weeks. She's been a very unhappy young woman."

The fact Tiffany had been drinking and taking sleeping pills didn't sit at all well with Kyle. She might not have known she was pregnant when she was doing it, but resorting to such destructive behavior had only ended up making her even sicker.

"If she sleeps through until morning, I'd say she's doing much better, son, but don't hesitate to call me again if you're concerned. And if she feels up to it, have her call me tomorrow as well. I'd like to talk to her, to see how she's feeling."

Kyle understood that, so he agreed, thanked Patrick then hung up.

Tiffany did end up sleeping through the night, though Kyle slept very little since he was worried about her. So, when she awakened in the morning looking rested and happy, he became more than a little disgruntled by her cheeriness, but tried not to show it. Recognizing he was being perverse, he also couldn't help it if the image of Tiffany pill popping and boozing made him more than a little angry.

By the time she came out of the bathroom, he had her shots ready and laid out on the table. He was about to tell her to lie down on the bed when Tiffany ran over and jumped up to throw her arms about his neck and kiss him. Unable to help himself, Kyle cradled her close and returned her kiss.

When she caught her breath, she said softly, "I love you, Kyle Andrew Sinclair."

"And I love you, Tiffany Anne Morgan. Very much." And so, with a kiss and a few loving words, the lady had tamed the angry beast. Kyle chuckled inwardly over the realization. And he'd thought Jim had it bad.

She pressed against him, and he held her for a moment before he asked, "Sleep well?"

"Yes, I did, and I feel so much better today."

"I'm glad. Are you ready to be a good girl for me this morning?"

She drew back with a puzzled frown, so he indicated the night table with a slight tilt of his head. She stepped away from him with a groan.

"You didn't get your second shots last night, since I decided to let you sleep, so you definitely need them this morning. Why don't you lie down on the bed, and I'll get the alcohol."

"When she stepped away, he saw the determined set of her chin and knew she wasn't going to concede without an argument. So, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her with a purely dominant expression.

She folded under his glare and lay stomach down on the bed, so he went and soaked the cotton balls with alcohol. He might want to buy a packet of alcohol wipes, since they were easier to pocket, but this worked out fine for now.

When he returned to the room, Tiffany had her face turned away from him, and from the small up and down movement of her back he suspected she was crying. Feeling like a heel, he put the cotton balls down and picked her up.

She promptly put her arms around his neck and sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, soothing her with his hands.

"For acting like such a baby."

"I didn't hurt you yesterday, did I?"

"No."

"So, what's the problem?" When she shrugged, he asked, "Does the thought of a needle still scare you?"

"A little," she admitted.

"These are tiny needles, Tiff. You won't feel them at all. If you want, I'll give you an alcohol backrub and sneak them in when you aren't expecting them."

She laughed. "You're really good at this. Dr. Sloan was right. You should have become an EMT."

He gave her a kiss. "Except, I don't like seeing people hurt or in pain. That's not to say I can't deal with it, but I think it would upset me to have to handle it day in and day out."

She nodded. "I think I understand."

"So, do you want the backrub?"

She smiled up at him. "Yes, please."

"Okay, take off all your clothes and lie down on the sheets, and I'll get the alcohol." At her nod, he returned to the bathroom and when he came out she was lying nude on her stomach, smiling at him. His cock promptly sprang to attention.

"Down boy," he murmured under his breath, before pouring a little alcohol on his hands. Then sitting beside her he began to run his hands along her back and waited until he felt her relax. Careful not to break his stride, he managed to give her both shots without her even opening her eyes. Then. after continuing the rub a few minutes longer, he asked, "How does that feel."

"Good," she murmured. "Really good. You can give me the shots anytime, now."

"That's nice, sweetie, but they are already done."

"Really?" she asked opening her eyes to stare at him.

"Really and truly," he said. "Now, how about I get you some breakfast. What are you in the mood for?"

Shrugging, she asked, "What cereals do you have?"

"I'll check," he said, rising and collecting the syringes.

"Kyle?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"May I come join you in the kitchen this morning?"

"You sure you feel up to it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then yes, you may. But if I see you getting the slightest bit tired, it's back into bed you go."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he arched an eyebrow in response. "You looking for a swat, young lady?"

"No, sir," she answered softly.

"Then, you'd best keep that little pink tongue of yours in your mouth where it belongs, or else I may get some other ideas as to what you can do with it."

Her eyes widened then she smiled. "Really, sir? I haven't had much practice, but I'm certainly willing to try."

He groaned. "Get dressed, or put your nightie back on. You can even take a shower if you want, but you are far too tempting by half when you're nude, and I'm determined not to tax your strength with erotic hanky-panky until you're rested."

The smile she gave him in response made him think she intended to sorely test his resolve in that respect, which also gave him the feeling this was one battle he was going to end up losing—most willingly.

# Chapter 16

When Tiffany showed up with wet hair at the breakfast table, dressed in summer shorts and a T-shirt that said _Drugs are My Life_ , Kyle recalled why he'd been angry with her earlier. He knew the reference on her shirt had to do with working at Dorman Pharmaceuticals, but it still didn't sit well with him. Telling himself he was being unfair, he offered her a choice of cereals.

She picked the shredded wheat. "And I'm ready to kill someone for a cup of coffee," she admitted with a grin.

He managed a slight smile in return as he poured the cereal into a bowl and added milk. "Unfortunately, both murder and coffee are off your agenda for a while."

Her face fell. "Why? I'll only get a headache if you won't let me have coffee."

"A headache is a small price to pay, considering caffeine intake is ill-advised for pregnant women. It's not good for the baby."

Kyle could tell by her mutinous expression he'd said the wrong thing, but had no intention of backpedaling on this one.

"So, is that all I am to you? A baby machine?"

He shook his head. "Well, honey, if that were true, I'd hate to say it, but I think you're a really bad one. Your father told me you've been drinking and taking sleeping pills."

Tiffany crossed her arms over her chest. "I couldn't sleep. All right? Plus, taking pills and drinking a toddy at night are often-used remedies for insomnia."

"So is taking a walk and drinking warm milk, but I don't believe you even tried those. Did you? And pill popping with liquor is not at all recommended, pregnant or not."

"I'm beginning to think this possible baby I'm carrying is more important to you than I am. We don't even know for sure if I'm pregnant, so why should I bend over backward to change my life for something that might not even be."

Kyle leaned against the counter and regarded her carefully. "You're being a selfish brat, Tiffany. Why are you only thinking of yourself, when your concern should be focused on our unborn child?"

With a cry of rage, Tiffany jumped to her feet and slapped him.

Putting his hands firmly on her shoulders, Kyle took three deep breaths to bring his anger under control. She was upset and filled with raging hormones, so he needed to make allowances for her. Lowering his hands, he said, "I suggest you sit down before I decide to make that particular activity a bit more difficult for you."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Tiffany launched herself at Kyle, hitting and slapping him repeatedly.

"You don't listen very well, do you?" Kyle asked, grabbing both her wrists and using his foot to drag one of his kitchen chairs further away from the table to allow for more room. Then, with a slight tug, he pulled a struggling and screaming Tiffany across his lap, taking care to ensure her weight was evenly distributed rather than just on her tummy. When she started to swear at him, he bared her bottom. "Perhaps I should also wash your mouth out with soap when we're done here," he threatened, locking her legs into place and giving her ten firm swats without stopping.

During one through five, she swore and spat at him as she struggled to get free. Six through seven had her crying, but still struggling. When eight fell, she started to beg he stop. At nine, she wailed she was sorry. And, at ten, she was resigned and sobbing, her earlier energy having totally deserted her.

Still angry, though her tears ate at his resolve, Kyle helped her up then. After restoring her clothes, he seated her in the chair she'd been sitting in and handed her a paper napkin. Except that clearly wasn't what Tiffany wanted, since she threw the napkin to the floor, leapt to her feet, and ran into the bedroom where she slammed the door.

Sighing, Kyle decided to give her a few minutes to calm down. He could hear her sobbing, and a part of him felt guilty for punishing her small temper tantrum after she'd been so ill. He had tempered his strokes, making sure she'd feel the slap of his palm without it really hurting her. As punishment, it had been mild, though he doubted she viewed it that way.

After he'd poured a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice for her, he went and knocked on the bedroom door. "Tiffany?"

"Go away," she shouted, sounding more like a petulant child than a twenty-one-year-old woman.

"No. I'm staying." He tried the door handle. It was locked, so he took three more deep breaths. She had locked him out of his own bedroom. All right, their bedroom, but still...

"Tiffany, I'm going to give you until the count of three to unlock this door. If you refuse to do it by then, I will break it down, and you will get twenty more much harder swats than the ones I gave you in the kitchen. Do you understand me?"

"Just go away," she repeated on a sob. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Maybe not, but you are going to, young lady. And I'm not leaving this door until you've unlocked it. Furthermore, I'm going to call someone in to remove all the locks from the doors in this apartment, since I seem to be living with a cranky little girl who uses them inappropriately. You have until three, Tiffany. One."

"You can't threaten to solve every problem and issue we have by turning me over your knee."

"Actually, it's worked pretty well in the past. And I don't believe in fixing things that don't appear to be broken." He heard the door being unlocked but waited to let her settle herself before he entered.

She'd stopped crying, or at least sobbing, so he opened the door slowly in case she chose to lob something at him. She was seated on the bed, glaring at him, but her lower lip trembled, which meant there was a bit of apprehension behind all that righteous anger.

He stepped into the room and shut the door. She didn't try to move away, so he moved closer.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, more than a little nervously.

"For the moment, I intend to sit beside you, pull you onto my lap, and give you some hugs and kisses. Would you like that?"

She nodded, but the tears started again. So, he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry," she wailed again.

"Shh, sweetie. It's all right, and it's over. I'm not sure why you wanted me to spank you, but you clearly needed me to take a firm stand, so I did."

"What makes you think I wanted a spanking?" she asked with a sniff.

"Because you didn't back down when I warned you to."

"I was angry with you."

"I know you were. But, whether you know it or not, when you start to get bratty and sass me, you are demanding I put you over my knee."

He gave her time to process his words. Finally, she pressed her burning cheeks against his chest. "I never looked at it that way, but I suppose you're right," she admitted softly. "I am testing you, and I do want to see if you can master me, but not necessarily with a spanking, and certainly not every time we fight."

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "There's a simple solution to that, honey. Don't get bratty with me. Especially not after I give you a warning, because I will follow through."

She nodded then sighed. "I know."

"Would you like to come into the kitchen with me and have some breakfast?" When she shrugged, he asked, "Is there something else you would rather do?"

With her green eyes clear, and her lashes still wet with tears, Tiffany gazed at him and said, "I'd like you to make love to me."

Feeling his love for her expand, Kyle kissed her then said, "I would like that more than anything, honey, but how about after breakfast?"

"We're in the bedroom," she pointed out unnecessarily. "It wouldn't take much for either of us to get undressed..."

Kyle grinned and kissed her again. "You are a little temptress, this morning, aren't you?"

"I'm horny, and I've missed you."

"Oh God, Tiffany. I've missed you so much, and at this moment I am so hard I ache to be inside you again, but yesterday you needed help simply to get into the car, and I don't want to tax your remaining strength."

She made a wry face. "You don't think spankings tax my strength?"

"Actually, I do, which is another reason why I'd like you to at least eat something first. If you still feel like playing after breakfast, I promise to be a very willing and eager partner."

"Promise?"

He crossed his heart. "Promise."

Smiling, she leaned up to kiss him and agreed to have breakfast first. She ate all her cereal and two pieces of toast. Then she drank her juice as well as her milkshake, took her pills, and declared herself done.

Kyle gave her a wolfish grin. "So..."

"Race you," she said with a laugh then ran into the bedroom. He tackled her before she reached the bed he turned so she fell on top of him. Her eyes alight with mischief and fire, she kissed him.

He wasted no time lifting her T-shirt off, but was amazed once again by the way her ribs stuck out. He skimmed his hand along her midriff. "You lost way too much weight, Tiff. You're nothing but skin and bones."

She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch. "But I'm making up for it, now. I probably gained a pound yesterday, and will most likely gain another today."

"At that rate, it'll be a month before you're where you were, and another month before you are near to where you should be."

She placed her hand against his cheek. "I'm fine, Kyle. Really. And I want to make love with you."

"All right," he said on a sigh. "But we need to be careful. No swinging from the chandelier. Okay?"

"Darn," she said with a snap of her fingers. "And I was hoping to try out my new act today, too."

He laughed then worked on removing her shorts. Not wasting any time, he ran kisses from her belly to the sweet spot between her legs. He'd barely touched his tongue to her when she came. Taking a few moments to soothe her pulsing flesh with his mouth, he then worked her toward another climax. This time she gripped his hair when she came then went totally limp."

As he slowly kissed his way up her body to her mouth, she met his kiss eagerly. Drawing back, he gazed down at her. She was flushed with pleasure and lovely. Her beautiful red hair had a nice shine to it again after she'd shampooed it this morning, and her skin was a creamy white with a few interesting freckles scattered about. "I didn't expect you to taste different, but you do."

"Better or not?" she asked hoarsely.

"Sweeter, I think. Not necessarily better, but still among my top ten most favorite flavors."

She laughed then ran her fingers through his hair. "Make love to me, Kyle."

"With pleasure, my lady," he said, taking off his clothes. Her openly admiring glances fed his ego, which in turn inflated his cock. Her eyes grew wide as she smiled and bit her lower lip.

Moving on top of her, Kyle checked to make sure she was ready then smoothly entered her. He'd begun moving in a controlled rhythm when she gripped his butt to press him even deeper into her. He stopped. "No, Tiff. Slow and gentle this time. All right?"

"But I want—"

"No, Tiff. I want to make sure I don't hurt you, so, let me determine the depth and pace. I'll still bring you pleasure, and I won't leave you unsatisfied, but we need to take this slowly."

She pouted, but let him set the pace for a few minutes when she grabbed his butt and pushed back again. And, again, he stopped. "Tiffany... I'm beginning to get frustrated with you. Relax and let me handle things."

"But—"

"No. If you can't listen and obey me, then we'll stop."

"I don't want to stop."

"I know that. I don't, either, but you're being impatient, and if you continue this way, you're going to get into trouble."

"I don't want that, either."

"Then be a good girl. Relax, and let me take you on a slow, languorous ride of pleasure."

She sighed then stuck her tongue out at him.

He forced himself to look stern, when a part of him wanted to laugh. "Are you going to obey me, or must I take more drastic measures?"

"I'm not asking for a spanking, Kyle. Honest. I just want—"

"Tiffany. Who is the master in the bedroom?"

"You are," she answered sullenly.

"Right. And what happens if you don't obey your master?"

"I get spanked."

"Right. So, calm down and let me set the pace. Don't fight me. I won't warn you again."

She groaned. "I'm not made of porcelain, Kyle."

"No, but you are made of flesh and blood, which can be even more fragile than china. You can still break."

"Yeah? Well, you try taking that firm palm of yours against a plate of fine china and see what happens."

He had to struggle hard not to laugh. She looked really put out with him, but he wasn't doing this to torture her. He truly was worried her body wasn't up to a robust session of thrust and push.

"Slowly, Tiffany," he reminded as he started moving again. She didn't say anything, but her hands fisted the bottom sheet in protest. She wanted to drive, and he was forcing her to sit in the passenger seat with a safety harness on. But he was driving, not she, so she had to obey his rules.

Then he saw her back arch as she clutched the sheets. "Easy, sweetie," he said, knowing she was getting frustrated.

"Please, Kyle," she groaned.

"We'll get there eventually, Tiff, just enjoy the ride in the meantime."

"But you're taking too long. I want to go on a jet plane, and you're insisting we ride the slow boat to China. Please... I won't break, honest."

"No. And that's final. Push me again, and you'll find yourself on a paddle wheeler for a very bumpy ride."

"Argh!"

"Relax," he ordered, and was working up to a rhythm when she gripped his hips and began thrusting against him. He pulled out. "That's it, my darling. You were warned," he said, pulling her up out of the bed and over to the rocker, where he lowered her protesting form gently over his knees.

She screamed, "No!"

"Quiet!" he ordered, then rubbed her backside as he waited for her to calm down. "I gave you more than enough warning, Tiffany, and you continued to push me. So, this is what we're going to do. I'm going to paddle your butt with my hand until you say, 'My lover is the master of me in the bedroom, and I must obey everything he says,' and mean it. One!" he said, bringing his palm down so it would make a loud sound without hurting her.

"Go to hell!" she screamed.

"Not the words I want to hear, Tiffany. Two!"

"Oww! That hurts, Kyle."

"And that is the general idea, isn't it? Say the words, Tiffany."

"In your dreams!"

"Three."

"Ach! You're a beast, Kyle!"

"Say the words, Tiffany. Four."

She arched up with a cry since that one was a little firmer. "This isn't fair!"

"Fairness has nothing to do with it. Now, say the words. Five."

Then the tears started. "You said you would give me what I need, but you aren't. You're being mean and dictatorial."

"I'm insisting on your obedience, and you are continuing to defy me. So, this is your consequence. Say "My lover is the master of me in the bedroom, and I must obey everything he says."

"Or end up with a sore bottom," she added petulantly.

"Six."

"Oww. All right, I'm sorry for wanting you to make love to me. Happy?"

"Not in the least. You know what I want, and each swat from now on is going to get a little bit firmer than the last. So, say the words."

"You're not my ma—"

"Seven!" This time, he made sure she felt it, and her legs, which he'd left free, started to scissor kick as she wailed.

"Stop. You're hurting me, Kyle."

"Then do as I ask." He gave her three seconds then said, "Eight," and brought his hand down again. This time she earnestly tried to struggle free, but he had a good grasp on her waist. "Don't wiggle, Tiffany, or I'll restrain you."

"I don't want this. I want to make love."

"And yet, this is what you demanded by not obeying me in the first place. Now say the words." He paused then shook his head. "Nine."

"Oww! You bastard."

"Swearing will only earn you extra swats, my love, so I'd suggest you refrain from that particular activity when you are already draped over my knees. Ten."

"All right! My lover is the master of me in the bedroom, and I must obey everything he says!" she shouted angrily.

"Hmm. Now, why don't I believe you? Eleven."

"No wait, please. I'll say it. Let me catch my breath for a moment."

Rather than answer her, Kyle rubbed her now pink flesh as he waited for her to draw on her inner strength to do as he asked.

Finally, she said, "My lover, whom I adore, is the master of me in the bedroom. And, because I know he loves me as much as I love him, I will obey him in everything he says."

Kyle smiled. "Very nicely said, honey. Since you're probably a little sore, I will give you a choice. Do you want to continue making love on the bed, or here on the rocking chair?"

She sighed. "Here, please. I need you, Kyle, and I don't want sweet and gentle. I need you to take me hard and fast this time. I want to scream when I come.

"Thank you for being honest with me. I may not always be able to give you what you want, but you should always tell me what you think you need, and I will be more than happy to provide it if I can."

Then, pulling her up so she straddled his lap, he drew her down and thrust his already near bursting erection into her at the same time, loving the way she clutched his shoulders, then arched her neck and cried out with pleasure. Helping her gain the leverage she needed, he clutched her buttocks and saw her wince as she gave out a little moan, but when he gripped even harder and began to repeatedly thrust into her, she cried out, "Yes, yes, yes!" and screamed again with her orgasm.

He came shortly after her and held her against him while he remained firmly lodged inside her. When he felt her contractions ease, Kyle eased her up and held her on his lap, pleased when Tiffany fell asleep while still naked and cradled in his arms—a contented woman.

As Kyle continued to rock Tiffany, he realized he'd been so busy arguing, threatening, and then making up with his girl the best way he knew how, they'd forgotten to call her father. When he carried her over to the bed and put her down, she promptly rolled to her side but didn't awaken. Realizing her schedule would drive their activities for the day, he made a mental note for them to call when she finished her nap, got dressed, and attempted to get some paperwork done. Knowing Tiffany would need supervision, he'd requested a reassignment that allowed him to work from home until they both agreed she was well enough to be on her own.

# Chapter 17

Tiffany finally awakened around dinnertime and entered the living room in her robe.

Kyle smiled. "Good rest?"

"Uh huh. Very nice. Best sleep I've had in a long, long time."

"Pleased to hear it. Isn't it amazing what a few orgasms can bring you?"

"Yeah. It can even make you hungry."

"For food or sex?"

"Both would be nice, but food first, I think."

Kyle glanced at his computer clock. "Wow! I didn't realize it was that late. You feel up to going out, or do you want me to put something together?"

"I don't want to put you out, Kyle."

"You're not. I just haven't started anything, yet."

"Perhaps we could make something together, then?"

He nodded. "We could. We definitely could. Any requests?"

"I'd say steak, but I think that's pushing it. Something quick and easy. Spaghetti, maybe?"

He mentally reviewed what he had in his refrigerator and tried to remember if he'd bought ground beef. "Tell you what, let's look at what I have, and if nothing appeals, we can go out or phone something in. Ah, but before we tackle dinner, you need to go back into the bedroom so I can give you your shots."

"Kyle!"

"What?"

"I feel fine. As a matter of fact, I feel so much better, I don't think I need them anymore."

"You don't?"

"No. They are supposed to give me energy and settle my stomach, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm settled, and I've got energy to spare."

"You think so?"

"Uh huh. Why?"

"Well, in the past forty-eight hours, you've slept for around twenty-nine of them. If we divide the number in half, you're sleeping more than fourteen hours a day. So, as far as having energy to spare, I think you're overstating your abilities—slightly."

"You're not going to give me a pass on this, are you?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Unless you're sick or in the hospital, you've got two shots twice a day coming to you, my lover, for the next six days at least. Maybe even longer." When she wrinkled her nose at him, he said, "By the time we're done, you are not even going to think twice about me giving you a shot in your sexy, delectable butt. It will be as natural as brushing your teeth.

"Somehow, I don't think that's ever going to happen."

"Well, another thing doctors do for reluctant patients is offer them a treat if they take their shots without a fuss. If I were to give you a treat, what would it be?"

She gave thought to his suggestion for a moment. "Would it be a different treat for each shot, or each time, or each day?"

"Greedy puss. You tell me what it would take where you might even look forward to this little interaction of ours?"

"Each shot."

He smiled. "All right. So, for each shot you take without complaint or resistance of any sort, what would you want?"

"Well, I certainly want more than a lollipop, but I think a new piece of jewelry is a little too grasping. I know. A pass on a spanking. In writing."

This time he was the one who had to think about it for a moment. "All right, I'll agree, except you won't be able to use a pass for every spanking, but you can always submit one to me. I will determine whether or not I will accept it. If I agree, I will take your note in exchange. If I don't agree, I will return it to you for use at a later time."

"So, to be clear, I will earn a pass note for every shot I receive with willing cooperation. And you will give me these notes when you are done. Right?"

"Yes."

"But when you decide I've earned a trip over your knee, I can request you take a note, though you won't always honor it. Are there conditions involved?"

He shook his head at her. "No, though I can tell you I will probably refuse a pass if you've done something that could injure you. Finding out you were driving while intoxicated would definitely earn you a spanking, and I wouldn't allow you a pass on it."

"How about a reduction? Could I turn in my pass for, say, a ten stroke reduction?"

"You're a wily negotiator. You know that?"

She shrugged then waited for his answer.

"Okay, I'll give you a possible on reductions. Each note you receive for this round of shots could earn you a five stroke reduction on a spanking I refuse to accept a complete pass on."

"Say I'd earned a twenty-swatter. If I had four notes, you'd accept them even though you wouldn't accept a pass?"

Kyle laughed. "Clever girl. Chances are I wouldn't accept four. I might accept three, but I would have to accept at least one."

She considered his words then smiled. "Definitely worth it. Okay, you're on. So, get your notes ready. I'll meet you in the bedroom."

He gave a nod then watched as she strolled sedately into their room. This could work to both their advantages. He strode into the kitchen, filled two new syringes and carried them into the bedroom. Tiffany lay front down on the bed—naked. He placed capped syringes on the nightstand. She glanced at the needles then quickly turned away. He went into the bathroom to get the alcohol and cotton balls. When he returned, she gazed at him again.

"Can I still get a backrub, or would I have to give up one or both of the notes for that?"

"If you want a backrub, you only have to ask for one. They don't cost anything."

"May I have one, please?"

Smiling, he gave her a nod. "You may. Now, scoot over so I can sit beside you."

When she readily obeyed he poured some alcohol onto his palm and went through the same routine he'd gone through before. She was almost asleep again by the time he gave her the shots, and since she didn't even frown, he suspected she was totally unaware he'd given them to her."

After about another five minutes had passed, he said, "Okay?"

She opened one eye and peered up at him. "Is it over?"

"Yes, my love. It is over, and you did very well. So, you get both notes."

"Yay!" she said, clapping her hands.

Chuckling, he collected the syringes and put away the alcohol. "When you're ready, come on out to the kitchen, and we'll see what I've got to feed you with."

Hopping out of bed, she slipped on her robe and followed him. As he bent over to scrutinize what he had in the refrigerator, she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

Smiling, he turned and kissed her on the lips, and she melted against him, so he put an arm around her waist and they went through the refrigerator's contents together.

When she admitted she'd be content with a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he was struck by how young Tiffany was in many ways.

"No," he said firmly. "You need something far more filling. I have some leftover chicken, and celery, so why don't I make us, or at least you, a chicken salad either in half a cantaloupe, on bread, or on lettuce. Your preference.

"You have cantaloupe?"

"I do."

"That sounds really good."

"Okay, that's what I'll make. Do you like pecans?"

"Yes, I do. Very much."

"Then I'll add some of those, as well as some grapes."

"This is sounding better and better, Kyle. I never knew you were so clever in the kitchen."

"I've been a bachelor for a while, sweetheart. I've learned to adapt. In the meantime, why don't you call your dad. He's worried about you."

"Why? I mean, why is he worried?"

Kyle took all the ingredients out of the refrigerator and started putting together the salad. "I called him last night when you didn't wake up. I was concerned over how much you were sleeping."

"Oh. What did he say?"

Gazing at her with a raised eyebrow, he said, "That you weren't sleeping well at home, and had been relying on aids, but they weren't helping."

She frowned. "Okay, I'll call him. All right if I use the phone in the bedroom?"

"If you prefer to keep your talk private, then yes, of course you may."

"Thanks. It's not that I want the conversation to be private, per se, but he's bound to grill me, and I'm not sure how much I want to tell him. You'd know if I was lying, and it would embarrass me, which Daddy would pick up on right away."

"I understand, sweetie. It's okay. Go ahead and call your dad."

Kyle finished the dinner preparation and had everything on the table when Tiffany returned with tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked, concerned her father may have said something that upset her.

She shook her head and sat down at the table. "It's stupid," she admitted, spreading a napkin over her lap as she attempted a smile. "This looks delicious, Kyle."

"Thanks." He started to eat, but put down his knife and fork when he noticed she wasn't eating. "Tiffany, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

She nodded.

"Okay. I won't insist, but I never want you to feel embarrassed to admit something to me even if you think it is silly or stupid."

She gazed at him for a moment then her face crumpled as she said, "He told me no matter what I did, I would always be his little girl, and he would love me."

Immediately understanding, he reached out to clasp her hand. "Why don't we get married tomorrow, Tiff? I want to marry you. All I need is for you to say, yes."

"I know. It's just so much has happened since you first asked me."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"Not really, but I'm confused and a little scared. As my lover, you can be pretty intimidating. How would you change things if you were my husband?"

He sat back. "What makes you think I would want to change anything?"

"Wouldn't you. You're going to want me to promise to obey you. What happens if I don't agree with you?"

Leaning forward again, he said, "Tiffany, whether or not you promise to obey me in our wedding vows isn't important. Yes, I'd like you to do it, but even if you didn't, that wouldn't change the way we interact with each other. I would still expect you to obey me whether you promised to or not."

"So, you're saying nothing would change?"

"I can't see why it would. I may occasionally play 'the husband card' by reminding you of your promise to me, but I feel you've already made that promise. Today, I could have substituted husband for lover when I insisted you say those words, because it wouldn't have changed anything. I feel in my heart we are already married. We just haven't made it legal, yet."

"In some ways, I feel the same way."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Yes, sweetie. I promise."

"I'd like for you to propose to me again."

"You would?" When she nodded, he said, "Let's call Jim and Kelly after dinner and have them meet us at city hall tomorrow as our witnesses. If you want me to propose tonight, tomorrow morning, or before them as witnesses, I will gladly do it."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course I wouldn't. Do you want me to get the ring now?"

When she nodded, he got up from the table, retrieved the ring from his dresser, and returned to kneel at her side. "Tiffany Anne Morgan, I love you with all my heart. I always have, and I always will. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to have my children and grow old with me. I want you to enjoy every day we have together and look forward to the next one. And I very much want you to do me the honor of becoming my wife. Will you marry me?"

Tears shone in her eyes as she nodded. "Yes. I will."

He rose and kissed her then, and she hugged him without hesitation. He brushed the tears from her eyes as he felt his own growing moist. Then, taking the ring out of its velvet box, he held out his hand for hers. With a blush, she gave it to him, and he slid the ring on only to notice it was much too large for her. She'd lost so much weight if she bent her wrist it would fall off.

"Hmm," he said, gazing at her.

"I should grow back into it after a few months."

"You'd better, my darling, or I'm going to find other, less pleasant, ways to fatten you up."

She winced. "I'm not in trouble for this, am I?"

He considered for a moment then shook his head. "No, I can't scold you when I wasn't there to help you, but I'm going to start weighing you weekly, at least, and if you haven't gained at least one pound during the week, you're getting a spanking."

"Is this something I could hand in a pass for?" she asked wistfully.

He chuckled. "Probably, although I think I may have created a monster here. In the meantime, eat your dinner. Unfortunately, they didn't weigh you at the doctor's office, since you were so sick. That means, right after dinner, you're getting on the scales, and we're going to start keeping track. A minimum of one pound per week. Gain more, and you get a reward. Stay the same, and you'll have to give me a pass. Lose weight, and it's a ten swat minimum."

"Ten swats I can get reduced to five, right?"

He reached up and kissed her. "Yes. You can get a reduction, though I won't be happy about it. Not at all."

"Would you be happier if I let you spank me the full amount?"

"No. Your gaining weight is the only thing that would appease me. In the meantime, I'll go to the jewelers and get ring guards put on, so you can at least wear your set until you grow into it again."

She smiled then her smile froze. "What about my parents? They're going to want the large wedding we had planned for next June."

"Fine. We can do that, too. But if you _are_ pregnant, we will have a baby by then, so I'm not going to want to wait that long to marry you. The church wedding will be our formal wedding, but not our legal one. Acceptable?'

"Yes. Thank you."

He kissed her again then pointed to her plate. "Now eat. You have some serious weight gaining to work on, my darling. So, you'd best get to it right away."

Smiling, she picked up her fork, put some chicken salad and melon on it, then showed him she was eating.

"Good girl. Keep it up."

He returned the ring to its box, put it in his pocket then returned to his seat to join her in finishing their dinner.

After they'd finished eating and cleaned up, Tiffany made a list of the things she wanted Kyle to get for them tomorrow. "A cake is a must, champagne, and we'll need some sort of appetizer or non-sweet thing our guests can munch on."

"No champagne for you, my darling. I'll get you some sparkling grape juice so you can join in on the toast."

She frowned. "But, Kyle—"

He shook his head. I know it will legally be our wedding day, and I know I'm being exceptionally strict, but I'd rather not take the chance. Especially since you've been drinking on your own when we weren't together."

She sighed. "Okay, but I'd like to get a dress. I don't have anything special enough to wear."

Though he didn't like the thought of Tiffany going shopping, he did understand how important this occasion would be for her. "This won't be your white dress day," he reminded. "It's a simple civil ceremony. Don't you have anything in your closet that might be suitable?" When she shook her head, he asked, "Do you think you and Kelly could find something tomorrow? Or is this something you'll need to do with your mom and Chrissy?"

"I think I should save Mom and Chrissy for helping me select my bridal gown. Kelly could help me. At least we could look at dresses together."

"And is this a 'deal breaker' if you don't find anything?" he asked, concerned they might have to postpone their marriage if she wasn't successful.

"No. I guess not. I'm pretty sure we'll be able to find something that will work. It might not be exactly what I want, but it'll be close."

"Okay. I'll allow it—"

"Kyle... I think you need to use another word. That one really ticks me off."

"All right. If getting something new is so important to you, I won't try to argue you out of your shopping trip. However, I don't want you wearing yourself out for a dress, especially since I prefer to see you with nothing on at all."

"Not right now, I bet," she muttered under her breath, but he still heard her.

He frowned. "Why not?"

Glancing down at her chest, she held out her T-shirt. "Because I'm too skinny. My breasts may have gotten a bit larger, but only in the cup size. Even my bra size has shrunk, though not nearly as much as the rest of me."

"You are too thin for your health, which has nothing to do with your ability to give me a raging hard on. I still find you attractive, Tiffany. I'm just worried about you."

She rolled her eyes as though she didn't believe him, so he'd have to prove it to her again, later. "Anyway, I understand you want to look pretty tomorrow, but please know this is something you are doing for yourself. Not me. So, I don't want you to be selfish and end up fainting, or worse, because you're on a quest for the perfect outfit."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful."

"Thank you. We'll need to work out a time schedule, but at this point I'm thinking we should all meet at the town clerk's office around 2:00 p.m. Now, are you going to be superstitious about the groom seeing you in your dress before the ceremony?"

"Maybe you could go with Jim and I could go with Kelly?" she suggested timidly.

"All right. Let's call them, and make sure they're available before we finalize any more plans."

Jim and Kelly got on the phone together and expressed delight at being witnesses. Jim offered his congratulations then Tiffany and Kelly spoke privately while got off the line and called Kyle's cell to discuss a Justice of the Peace he knew who would be willing to perform the ceremony.

"Would you mind helping me find a dress?" Tiffany asked.

"Mind? Hell no. I'd love to help. I know a nice, but not expensive, boutique that will probably have just the right dress for you."

"Thanks. Will it be a problem for you to take off work?"

"Um, no," Kelly said, her voice sounding a little odd. "That shouldn't be a problem at all. But, how are you feeling? Are you sure you're up to this?"

"I'm doing much better. The doctor prescribed something to help with the nausea and some sort of vitamin cocktail to give me more energy. Though I am sleeping a lot."

"Has the doctor confirmed a diagnosis, yet?"

"No. But both he and Kyle are pretty certain they know what it is."

"They think you're pregnant, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Oh, Tiffany. You were displaying all the signs when I last saw you. I know you wanted to think it was the flu, and I wasn't sure whether you'd be pleased or more upset by the possibility of a baby, so I didn't want to say anything."

"Did you happen to mention your suspicion to anyone?" When Kelly didn't say anything, Tiffany whispered, "Kelly, you promised you wouldn't tell Jim how I was feeling. Did you say something to him?"

"I'm not a good liar, Tiffany. I'm sorry. Jim suspected I was keeping a secret from him, and he... Well, he wasn't happy about it. And when he'd discovered I'd gone to see you again, he got sort of pissed at me. Like, over the knee pissed."

"Oh God," Tiffany whispered, keeping her back to Kyle. "When did this happen? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. He gave me a reprieve since I was so upset. It was Saturday."

"This last Saturday?"

"Yup."

"Did he tell Kyle?"

After a slight pause, Kelly said, "Yes, Jim called Kyle."

"But did he tell him he thought I was pregnant?" Despite asking the question, Tiffany suspected she already knew the answer. Kelly paused again. "Did he, Kelly?'

"Yes. It was Jim's idea for Kyle to kidnap you."

"I see."

"Tiffany, both the guys were worried about you. I was, too. So, I'm glad Jim tortured the information out of me, even though I felt like I was betraying you. You needed to be with Kyle. He's taking excellent care of you, isn't he?"

"Yes. He is."

"And you felt better once you got together again, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"So, everything's okay, isn't it?"

Tiffany glanced over at Kyle, who was organizing paperwork in his office. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Kelly. Don't worry. I'm not angry with you."

"You're thinking the only reason Kyle decided to get you was because you might be pregnant, aren't you?"

"He has seemed overly concerned in that regard, yes." Kyle must have sensed the tension in her voice then, because he looked up with a quizzical frown. She knew he loved her, but the fact he only came to get her when he thought she was pregnant was not sitting at all well with her.

"Kyle loves you, Tiffany. It was his fear over you that prompted him to finally get you. He wanted to take care of you."

"I know," Tiffany answered, trying not to cry. _Stupid hormones._

"You are the only thing important to him."

"That's a nice thought, Kelly, but I'm not sure it's true. I'm sorry I got you in trouble, but I'm glad Jim didn't take action for once. Don't worry. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I can tell. Kyle is there with you now, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"He suspects you're upset, doesn't he?"

"I think so."

"Then, tell him what you're feeling."

Yeah, she'd done that earlier, and it had ended up with them getting into a fight. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kelly. Can you pick me up around nine or so?"

"Sure. I'd love to, but—"

"I really need to go. I'll see you then. Okay?"

"I don't know. I can tell you're unhappy, and—"

"It's okay. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow."

When Tiffany hung up, Kyle walked over to her. "What's wrong?"

Sometimes having someone so attuned to your feelings wasn't a good thing. "Nothing," she answered. "I'm going to look through my shoes to see if—"

Kyle shook his head. "No. You're going to remain in that chair and tell me what upset you."

Sighing, Tiffany said, "Why should I? You'll only say I'm being a selfish brat again."

He crouched down beside her. "What did Kelly say?"

She started to get up, but he placed a firm hand on her thigh to keep her in place. "Nothing important."

He regarded her carefully. "You're lying to me, little girl, and you know how I feel about that."

She nodded. "May I have my notes, now, please?"

"I'll honor one, if you want to use it, but I'd still like you to tell me what Kelly said that upset you."

Closing her eyes, Tiffany sighed. "She told me Jim called you Saturday."

"He did."

"And he suggested I might be pregnant."

Kyle rose to his feet. "And you think that is the only reason I chose to kidnap you on Monday. Don't you?"

"Was it?" she asked softly.

"No. It wasn't. But I have a feeling you aren't going to believe me given some of the things I've said and done lately. Are you?"

She shook her head. "You already think I'm a terrible mother. No wonder you decided I needed a keeper."

Kyle reached for her hand. "Come here."

Tiffany resisted. "No. I want a pass."

He gazed at her with a thoroughly disgruntled expression. "That's nice, darling. Except I'm not giving you one this time. Not for this. Now, come here."

Tiffany groaned but allowed him to lift her to her feet. He led her over to the couch in the living room where he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. "Now, how do you think I'll react if the doctor says you're not pregnant?"

"You'll be disappointed, of course. You want kids right away."

"Yes, I do. I love kids. I will especially love any kids we have together, but my primary reaction to the news would not be disappointment. It would be worry, and do you know why?"

"Because then we won't know why I've been so sick."

"Exactly. My primary concern is for you. Yes, I want you to do things that would be best for the baby, but not at the expense of your own health or comfort. You come first in my heart, and you always will. I'm not saying I won't get angry and paddle your butt if you do things you shouldn't, but I never want you to think I value any child you carry over you. Because that simply isn't true. And lastly, I do not think you are a terrible mother. You made some bad choices, but you didn't make them knowingly.

"Now, if you decided to drink or take sleeping pills knowing you were pregnant, you would have absolutely no doubt as to my displeasure with you. But, even then, I wouldn't accuse you of being a terrible mother, only a misguided one. I think you're going to be a wonderful mother, and I will be there to ensure you have all the support you need to be successful." He brushed the tears away from her eyes with his thumb. "So, I don't want to hear any more of this silliness. All right?"

Tiffany nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good girl. All better now?"

She hesitated for a second then nodded again.

"Hmm." His eyes narrowed. "Why am I still sensing hesitation from you?" His expression turning into a stern frown, he lifted her in his arms.

Grabbing his neck, Tiffany suspected he was going to get firm with her, which wasn't what she wanted at all. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, my lovely," he said, carrying her into the bedroom. "I have a feeling you need to be reminded how much I love and desire you. So, I think I'm going to need to make you scream again."

Her eyebrows went up as he kicked their door closed. "Are we talking pleasure or pain, here?"

Bending his head, he gave her a passionate kiss. "Let's see if you can figure that out for yourself. Shall we?"

Kyle and Jim showed up at the town clerk's office at 1:45 p.m... After explaining why they were there, Kyle began filling out some of the required paperwork. The sympathetic clerk asked if they'd contacted a JP already. When Kyle assured her they had, she assured him she'd do everything she could to expedite things.

At 1:55 p.m., Kelly walked in.

Frowning, Kyle turned and asked, "Isn't Tiffany with you?"

Kelly smiled and nodded. "We just wanted to make sure both of you were here before she made her entrance."

Kyle nodded, held up his finger to request a moment as he finished filling in the form and paid the fee. All that was needed now was Tiffany's and their witnesses' signatures. He gave a nod to Kelly, who opened the door about a foot and whispered.

Then she opened the door wide, and Tiffany walked in. She wore a knee-length cream silk cocktail dress covered with brocade embroidery of various wild flowers. She'd styled her gorgeous red hair into a French twist, and wore a matching cream hat with a small veil. She'd also purchased a delicate bouquet that brought out the colors of her dress. Though she was still terribly thin, there was a lovely blush to her cheeks, and her green eyes sparkled.

Kyle smiled at her. "You look absolutely ravishing, sweetheart." As her blush deepened to a lovely rose color, Kyle had Tiffany show the clerk her required IDs before she put her signature on the license right below his. The clerk, serving double duty as notary, applied the state's legal seal to the license.

When the justice of the peace arrived, the five of them stepped into the conveniently located chamber the town clerk had decorated with draped vines and stuffed birds. Jim took his place at the right of Kyle, Tiffany stood on his left, and Kelly remained on Tiffany's left. Kyle held Tiffany's hand and repeated the words that would legally bind them as man and wife then Tiffany did the same. He next slipped both rings onto her finger with the ring guards adjusted to keep them from sliding off and kissed her. She pressed up against him and held his shoulders. The kiss was sweetly intimate without being too passionate for a public display. Afterward, the smiling JP walked the license over to the clerk for registration.

As Tiffany held the legal document in her hand, she and Kelly grew a little weepy then laughed at each other as the understanding gentleman handed them each a tissue.

# Chapter 18

"Meet you two back at our place?" Kyle asked.

"If you're sure you want us, bud. I gotta tell you that kiss got my juices flowing."

Kyle laughed. "We're sure. Thanks, guys, for being here with us today."

"Our pleasure," Jim answered, putting his arm around Kelly's waist.

Kyle did the same with Tiffany and escorted her out to his car, while Jim and Kelly got into Jim's car, which Kelly had driven.

Kyle could hear Jim murmur, "Pleased to see you didn't get in an accident today, darlin'. I guess there's hope for you yet."

Kelly smacked Jim's shoulder in response, but slipped quickly into the car when his eyebrow arched.

"I'll do it," Jim said, reaching in to fasten Kelly's seat belt. "Don't want you to ruin your lovely new manicure."

Kyle helped Tiffany into his car and fastened her seat belt as well, sneaking in another kiss as he did so.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he gazed at his wife. "How are you doing, Mrs. Sinclair?"

She smiled. "It's going to take a while to get used to my new name. Tiffany Sinclair. I always did like the sound of that."

Chuckling, he started the car. "Are you exhausted after your shopping excursion and the ceremony?'

"I'm a little tired, but it's a good tired. I feel completely content. I wish my parents could have taken part, but I don't think mother would have approved of a non-church wedding, so it's probably best they weren't there. But we can still get married in a church next June, right?"

"Whatever you want, sweetie, is fine with me."

Back at Kyle's apartment, Tiffany had sparkling grape juice while the rest of them sipped champagne as they toasted each other and the day. Kelly shared some amusing stories about the different dresses Tiffany tried on, as well as the shoes. But, when she let it slip Tiffany got so dizzy at one point she had to sit down or pass out, Tiffany gazed at Kyle in panic.

"It was the dress," she insisted. "It was so tight, I had trouble breathing."

He shook his head, and she knew he wasn't buying it. She would be in trouble tonight. Well, she still had three passes left, if he would accept them

When Tiffany and Kyle cut the cake together, Kyle leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You look enchanting sweetheart, but I doubt that dress is going to be worth the spanking you're getting tonight." She took the first piece of cake and smooshed it into his mouth, smearing icing all over his lips, then kissed him.

"So, that's what they mean when they say 'you can have your cake and eat it too'," Jim said wryly.

Tiffany laughed, but stared at Kyle with uncertainty when he came at her with a very large piece of cake. However, his threat was idle, since he fed it to her carefully.

As the evening progressed, Tiffany slipped her new shoes off and walked around in her stockings. Kelly did the same, though she probably did it so Tiffany wouldn't be the only one traipsing around in bare feet.

Eventually, Kelly ended sitting on Jim's lap, and Tiffany curled up on Kyle's. Comfortable and content, she was almost asleep when Jim said, "Well, looks like we may have outstayed our welcome, darlin'. We'd best be getting' home."

"I'm sorry," Tiffany said.

"No need for apologies, red. You've had a day and a half today, though I must say you looked awful pretty."

Blushing, Tiffany murmured her thanks

Both she and Kyle rose to see the other couple to the door. As they exchanged their good-byes, Tiffany reached over and kissed Kelly on the cheek. "Thanks for everything today."

Kelly whispered back, "Um, sorry about the dizzy slip. I didn't realize Kyle would react that way."

"It's okay," Tiffany replied in kind. "If he'd found out later it had happened, and I hadn't told him, I would have been in worse trouble, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but it's your wedding night. I'm sure he'll make allowances."

"We'll see," Tiffany answered, then waved as Jim escorted Kelly away with a firm hand at her waist.

She and Kyle waited until the other couple got on the elevator before returning to their apartment.

"You're right," Tiffany said without preamble.

"Of course I am. But, out of curiosity, what is it I am right about this time?"

"They are very much in love. I could tell by the way Jim stole kisses throughout the evening from Kelly, and snuck in more than one caress on her backside."

Kyle laughed. "Yeah. He's got it bad." He turned and pointed at Tiffany, "And you, young lady, had better be out of that gorgeous dress and lying on our bed with your bottom bared in five minutes. You've got two shots as well as a spanking coming to you."

"Pass?" she asked plaintively.

Kyle considered it. "We'll see. Though it may take the two you I gave you this morning along with the two you'll get from me tonight for you to get a full pass."

She winced. "It really was the dress. Once I got out of it, I was fine."

He shook his head and pointed toward the bedroom. "Change. Now."

"Yes, sir," she said walking in to change her clothes. She loved her dress and it was something she could wear again, so she thought it was eminently practical as well."

"Looks like we got a phone message," Kyle called out to her. "I'll listen to it and let you know if it's anything we need to follow up on."

"Okay," Tiffany called back, wriggling out of her slip and pantyhose, placing the latter on the rack in the bathroom until she had time to wash them by hand.

Kyle walked into the bedroom, his expression grim.

"What is it?" she asked, stepping out to join him.

"Dr. Sloan's office. I think you should hear this yourself."

A shiver traveled down Kelly's spine. "All right. Let me put my robe on."

He nodded but waited for her. When she stood beside him at the phone, he replayed the message. "Kyle, Tiffany, this is Dr. Sloan. I wanted to personally let you know you're definitely going to be parents in about six months, late January or early February I'd say, from your recollections, but we can do a sonogram at Tiffany's next visit to get a more definitive calculation. Congratulations, guys. Tiffany, I'm sure it's a relief to know all your symptoms have a natural source. Call me if you have any questions, otherwise, I'll see you in a month. Bye."

Kyle turned to gaze at Tiffany with a secret smile on his face. Tiffany shook her head. "I think I need to sit down for a moment."

Kyle's expression grew concerned as he helped her to a seat. "How are you feeling? You need anything?"

"No. It's just... I really believed it was a virus or the flu despite what you guys thought."

"But you're happy, right?"

"A little overwhelmed. I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to cry."

Picking her up, Kyle set Tiffany on his lap. "I may join you, sweetie. This is a good thing, though. I know you wanted to wait to have kids, but I'll do everything I can to help you. You won't be doing this alone." Then he kissed her, and Tiffany sobbed against his shoulder.

He rocked her back and forth. She couldn't believe it. She was going to have Kyle's baby in six months. Six months. It seemed almost impossible.

"Shh. It's all right, Tiff. I'll take good care of you, I promise."

"Do you want to know the sex?" she asked, trying to be practical.

"If you do. I'm fine with waiting and being surprised, but if you want to plan a bit more, I have no problem with knowing beforehand."

"I'll have to think about it. We'll need to move, won't we?"

"Yes, eventually. We'll want at least one more bedroom. Maybe even two, but we don't have to do anything right away. What's most important is we get you back to full strength. Everything else is incidental. Tell me what you're thinking, Tiff, and be honest."

"It's so much earlier than I wanted, Kyle, and I'm a little scared."

"I know, sweetie." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "But he or she is really just an early wedding gift for us."

"I'm going to be a terrible mother," she said pressing her face to his chest again.

"No. You won't. Despite how you're feeling at the moment, I think you're going to be a terrific mother." He rubbed her back as he rocked her.

Drawing away, she lifted her face to his. "Kiss me."

"With pleasure." And he gave her a kiss filled with all the emotion he was feeling. Releasing her lips, he said, "I'd like to make love to you tonight. Think you're up for it?"

Smiling, she nodded. She still hadn't quite wrapped her mind about the fact she was carrying his child. Which meant her brain was coming up with some inappropriate wisecracks she doubted Kyle would appreciate. So, she would have to guard what she said until she'd fully accepted her situation.

Kyle carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed. "Let's do the shots first, okay?"

Tiffany nodded and continued getting undressed while Kyle went into the kitchen. She thought new mothers were all supposed to be ecstatic, so why did she feel like her life had suddenly slipped into slow motion. She should be happy; instead she felt shell shocked. Kyle would be totally supportive of her and a little dictatorial. In many ways, he was her rock and anchor. He stabilized her when she felt shaky. She was his wife now, and that felt a little unreal, too.

Staring down at her wedding band and engagement ring, she twirled them on her finger. A baby. She had no idea how to take care of an infant, and she'd heard horror stories of sleepless nights and colic and—

"Why don't you lie down, sweetie, and I'll give you another backrub. All right?"

Nodding, she lay down on the bed. She wanted to kick her feet in protest. To say someone had played an unfair trick on her. To whine and cry, but Kyle wouldn't understand. He'd think she was being selfish and childish, again, and he'd be right. She would be. But, right now, that was what she wanted to do. Then she felt his strong fingers working her tense muscles. She loved him, but was that enough? What if she never felt differently? What if she never came to care for this child as he would—with wholehearted, unconditional love?

"You're awfully tense, Tiff. Talk to me, sweetie." He was being kind and generous, but she knew she couldn't tell him what she was thinking. There was no way he would understand.

When she shook her head, he said, "It's all right to have doubts, but don't think you can't share them with me. Believe me, I understand. I may give you a spanking if I feel you need one to get your emotions out, but I won't be upset or angry with you. I realize this is a lot to take in and your hormones are playing havoc with your thoughts and emotions, but those things change. You may think a child is the last thing you want then feel guilty for even thinking such a thought, but trust me, sweetie. That's normal. It doesn't mean you're lacking in maternal instincts. It means this is a huge step and you're understandably scared. But, Tiff, I will be there every step of the way with you."

When she made a small scoffing sound, he said, "I also realize it's easy for me to say, since the baby is not in my body. But I will do everything I can for you, darling, including being a bit autocratic and dictatorial if I feel you aren't taking proper care of yourself. And, despite what you're thinking, I know you'll be the sort of mom who'll want to spoil the baby terribly, while I will want to be the strict and exacting parent. But that will ensure our child receives a good balance of love and discipline. Our children will never want for love, Tiff, even though you aren't sure whether you can ever feel maternal toward the strange, new little person growing inside you. But the only thing I want you to think about at this moment is you. And if you want to cry and kick while throwing a good old-fashioned temper tantrum, go ahead and do it. I'll be right here to ground you again."

She glanced over at him. "I do want to be the spoiled little girl right now."

"That's okay. I am going to spoil you, so there is some justification in that."

"What if I never want this baby the way you do? What if I grow to hate it?"

"I don't think that will happen, but I'll make sure you get all the loving attention you need so you won't feel jealous about the new addition to our family."

"But a mother isn't supposed to feel jealous of her baby. It's unnatural."

"Tiffany, you're barely out of your teen years yourself. You wanted time to grow up with me. I understand this baby is changing all that, and right now you resent it. But it's okay. Trust me, I can be adult enough for the two of us. So, if you want to act like a little girl and rail against what's happening, I'll take care of you."

"I feel like I'm being bad. Like I should be punished for thinking the way I do."

"Well, sweetie, that's one thing you never have to worry about. If you need to be punished, I will see to it without delay. If you want cuddles and hugs, I can see to those as well. And if you feel like being a wanton, sexy siren, I'll be more than willing to satisfy those particular itches, too."

Tiffany laughed. "Thanks." She laid her head down and closed her eyes.

"So, how do you feel now?"

"Confused. Tired. Cranky."

"Hmm. That sounds like a little girl who needs to be put to bed."

She nodded then peered back at him. "I think I overdid it today."

"No doubt you did," he agreed.

"So, am I in trouble?"

"Yes, I believe you are. So, do you want to use your passes, or do you want your punishment?"

"I don't know. I think I want to have a fight."

He chuckled. "You do?"

She nodded but put her head down again. "I want to be a brat."

"All right. I can work with that. So, let's do this. I'm going to put my things away, and then I'll come back here to put you to bed. You'd best be ready by then. If you give me an argument about it, you'll get a spanking. Fair enough?"

She nodded but continued to stare at him over her shoulder. She knew she was being irrational and childish, but Kyle was willing to humor her. It wasn't exactly serious, but it would allow her to express her current dissatisfaction in a non-destructive way. He really did understand, and she was grateful for it. She knew he would take care of her. Perhaps, when they were done, he'd make love to her, too.

When he returned, he stood frowning down at her with his hands on his hips. "Have you brushed your teeth and washed your face, yet, Tiffany?"

"No," she answered. "I don't want to."

"Well, isn't that too bad, because you're going to do it anyway." And before she knew what he was about, he'd picked her up and carried her into the bathroom and plunked her down at the sink. She met his gaze in the mirror. He was frowning sternly at her. He really was good at this. Perhaps a little too good.

He turned on the water, put toothpaste on her brush, and handed it to her. "Brush," he ordered.

She clamped her lips together and shook her head.

"If you think I don't know how to handle bratty little girls, you're mistaken. Now, brush before I decide you need me to brush them for you."

Her lips still clamped together, she dared him with her eyes.

"All right. You were warned, little girl." He put the brush down. Gripped her arm, and pulled her over to the toilet lid, where he sat down and pulled her down to sit on his lap. "I'll give you one more chance. Will you brush your teeth?" When she shook her head, he nodded. "Very well. Grabbing the pair of her stockings she'd left hanging on the rack, he tied her hands behind her. Then, clamping her legs between his, he picked up the toothbrush and pinched her nose.

Tiffany struggled, to no avail and when she opened her mouth to breathe, in went the toothbrush. She fought him, wondering if it would be possible for her to take this too far, to a point where he was no longer playing but really angry. Though he handled her like he was cross and stern, she sensed if she laughed, the game would be over, so she stayed in character and when he removed the brush, she spat in his face. Then she saw it. The glint in his eye like he wanted to laugh but didn't dare.

He nodded, grabbed a towel, and wiped off his face. She almost laughed, but he gave her the arched eyebrow and asked, "So, you think that was funny?" She considered what her response should be, decided, and nodded her head.

"You do, do you? Well, how about I show you what I think is funny?" She shrugged her shoulders like she didn't care whether he did or didn't, but she was curious to see what he'd do next. It was different knowing they were only playing. She found it a little liberating, though she was sure if he did spank her, it would feel real enough. He raised her up then sat her on the toilet lid. "Stay there. Move an inch from the spot and you will get a spanking, understand?"

She glared at him. Not answering, though she really needed to rinse out her mouth. The toothpaste was burning a little. But her character still wasn't ready to give in. He put the stopper in the sink and began filling it with water. "This, little girl is going to be big laugh for me. Maybe not so much for you, however."

When the sink was full, he put a towel on the edge then crooked his finger at her. She shook her head. With a sigh, he grabbed her arm and yanked her over to the sink. She struggled against him, but he was too strong. Next thing she knew, her face was under water. She screamed, and he let her up.

"Ready to do as you're told?"

She shook her head, spraying water all over him. This was sort of fun, though admittedly an odd way to spend your wedding night. He wiped his face off with the towel he'd used to remove the toothpaste. Then glared at her.

"So, you want to go under again?"

She shook her head again and stuck out her tongue at him.

He grimaced then filled a glass with water and took her over to the tub. "Rinse," he ordered, placing the glass to her lips. Now, she had a dilemma. The dunk in the sink had helped, but she still wanted to rinse her mouth. However, the bratty little girl she was playing probably wouldn't give in that easily. So, she clamped her lips together.

He held her nose again, but this time waited until she'd taken a breath before he poured in any water. "Rinse," he ordered once more. "And if you spit at me again, you won't be able to sit for a week."

This time, she obeyed. When she was ready to spit, he nodded to the tub. "In there."

When she bent over to spit, he laid two sharp smacks on her bare rear end. She jerked up and scowled at him. "That's for your first spitting attempt. Now sit down."

She shook her head, so he placed her on the toilet lid then went to the medicine cabinet and hesitated. He turned to gaze at her with a frown, but his voice was soft and intimate. "What do you normally use on your face? I don't want to use soap, since it could dry out your skin. So, I'd prefer to use your regular stuff, even for this."

"The lotion in the bottle," she answered.

He pulled it out. "This one?" When she nodded, he said. "Good. Okay, back."

She struggled to loosen the stocking tie as he drained the water out of the sink. He ran warm water next, soaked the washcloth, poured a little lotion on it, and came over to her. "Close your eyes."

She shook her head, having made absolutely no progress at all on his stocking knot.

"All right. But I don't want to hear you cry if this stuff stings." He came at her with the cloth, and she shut her eyes.

He wasn't exactly gentle in the way he washed her face, but he wasn't overly harsh, either. Just a little firmer than she normally would be. She heard him rinse out the cloth then he returned and wiped the lotion off her face with cool water. It felt pretty good, so she held still. It took him three rinse wipes before he held her chin to the light and examined her.

"Okay, you're done. Bed, now," he said, pulling her up to her feet and untying her hands. That's when she decided to run and heard him choke out a laugh. She'd almost made it to the bedroom door when he grabbed her by the waist.

"Unh uh, little one. You're going to bed. She struggled against him and he held her hands behind her again then pulled her against him. "You want a spanking?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Are you going to get into bed like a good little girl?"

She shook her head again.

"Then you leave me no choice." And he pulled her over to the rocker. She knew what that meant, so she struggled to get free.

"No!" she shouted in her little girl voice.

"Too bad," he said, easily pulling her across his knees. "Let's see. Refusal to go to bed when told. Five swats. Spitting at your Daddy. Ten swats. Struggling against him when he was only trying to help you. Five swats. That's a total of twenty swats, little girl. Are you ready?"

"Go to hell," she shouted again in her little girl voice.

"You just earned yourself an additional spank for swearing," he warned, then his palm came down, and it hurt. She cried out for real and tried to get up. "No!" he commanded, tightening his hold on her. His voice sounded deep and stern, just like an angry daddy. His hand came down hard four more times in succession, bringing Tiffany to tears, but she stopped struggling. When his hand came down five more times, she started to sob but lay still across his lap. She silently counted each swat, and he didn't spare her, but with each one she felt as if a huge weight was being lifted off her shoulders. By the time he reached twenty-one, the sobs were coming hard and heavy, and her butt hurt.

He pulled her up to sit on his lap. "Shh, darling. I've got you."

And Tiffany understood the game was over. He was seriously trying to comfort her as he normally did after he spanked her, and that made her cry even harder.

He rubbed her back. "It's all right, sweetie. It's over." He kissed her forehead, and she put her arms around his neck and sobbed. He held and rocked her for about a half hour until her sobs were reduced to small gasps for breath.

"How did you know?" she asked quietly.

"You told me. Had you still been playing, you would have struggled to get away and fought me. You didn't. You lay perfectly still across my knees and cried. So, I knew this was something you needed and wanted me to do. I also knew the game was over. This was real for you, so I made it real. Are you sore?"

"A little," she admitted, "but I still want to make love."

Smiling, he pressed his forehead against hers. "We can do that, too. You make a very convincing little brat, darling. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were always like that. Did you enjoy it?"

Gazing up at him with a smile, she nodded.

"Feel better?"

She laughed. "I guess. Though that's a strange question to ask someone you've just spanked. But, yes. I do."

He kissed her. "That's what I wanted to hear." Picking her up, he gently laid her on the bed. "Okay roll over." She gave him an odd look but obeyed. He ran light fingers over her buttocks. "Pink, but not red. Warm, but not hot. You okay?"

When she nodded, he said "Wait right there."

Sighing, she closed her eyes and relaxed until he returned. He came back to her totally nude. He rubbed her shoulders for a few minutes then rolled her over again and began massaging her front. He stroked, fondled, and petted until she was purring. Then he put his fingers between her legs.

"Spread your legs for me, sweetheart." When she obeyed, he said, "Good girl. You're nice and wet for me, so I think I need to take another taste."

He kissed his way down between her legs then settled there. The first touch of his tongue against her felt incredible. She started to draw her legs up, but he held them down. "No. I'm going to control this one. You just feel what I'm doing."

"But—"

"No. I could also say you don't have permission to come until I say you may, but I'm not going to play that game tonight. I am, however, going to keep you from moving, even when you want to. It's part of me taking the control away from you. You aren't allowed to participate, only feel." Then he returned his mouth to the center of her. Tiffany wanted to move, but every time she tried, he held her down. It was a strange feeling, and she didn't know if she liked it or not. Then he said something that finally made things click for her.

"Submit your will to mine, Tiffany. Don't fight it. Just give yourself into my control. Relax and submit."

Closing her eyes, she did as he asked, and the feeling was incredibly powerful. He was telling her he had all the control and she had none. He was much stronger, and yet he was being incredibly gentle as he coaxed her into a state of bliss, not allowing her to do anything but feel him as he sucked, licked, and nipped. Then she came, and that, too, was liberating. She felt like she was floating, and he kept her up in the air for what seemed to be an incredible length of time before he eased her down.

"Good girl. That was perfect. You did exactly what I wanted." Then he entered her, and Tiffany instinctively brought her knees up. He allowed it then put her legs over his shoulders. The angle was almost too much for her. Too intense. She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head again.

"Feel me, Tiff. Feel every inch of me as I slowly enter and press all your delightful buttons."

She did. She felt it all, and it was glorious. He was glorious, and she came again, but he didn't stop. She came three times before he did, and every muscle and bone in her body went limp from the overwhelming pleasure. This was what it meant to be sated. She couldn't move if the apartment were on fire.

He chuckled then kissed her. "My bright and beautiful girl. I love you so much. Everything about you is perfect."

She knew that wasn't true but basked in his compliment all the same, and for the moment, she felt perfect.

"You ready to go to sleep?" he asked gently.

"I don't think I can move. I feel like I'm floating." He started to get up, but she gripped his arm. "No. Don't go. Stay here and hold me, please."

He didn't question her request or hesitate. He simply lay beside her and wrapped her in a secure embrace. She reveled in the feel of his solid grip as his strong arms confined her within a gentle prison of masculine affection. One from which she never wanted to escape. He was her officer of the law, and she'd been totally and completely arrested by love.

The End

* * *

_R ead on for a sneak peak of book 3 in the Unexpected Consequences Series - Learning to be Little: Kelly's Story._

# Learning to Be Little: Kelly's Story

Unexpected Consequences Book Three

Perched on her Dom's lap, Kelly Franklin grinned as he patiently tried once again to show her the best way to use chopsticks.

"No, darlin'. Hold the top stick as you would a pencil, but don't grip it. Just rest it on your middle finger. That's right. Now, place the lower one against your ring finger, like so," James Evans repeated, repositioning her grasp. "Let it lie in the dip between your thumb and index finger, but a little closer to your thumb."

"How do you know so much about using chopsticks when you come from Texas?" she asked, her mind more on the strong curve of his jaw than his instructions.

"You ain't payin' proper heed to what I'm tellin' you, Kellian Franklin. And that's gonna earn you a plug of fresh ginger up your butt in a few minutes, if you don't watch out."

Kelly's wide smile faltered for a second. That was a new threat. "Why? What does that do?"

Releasing her fingers, Jim gazed up at her with a look of amazement. "Don't tell me in all the eight years you've been in the lifestyle, no one stuck a ginger plug up that pert little back hole of yours."

"No. Why would they? I mean I've had plenty of plugs and other, less pleasant things shoved back there, but no one thought to push in groceries."

Jim chuckled and shook his head. "Well, that'll be another first for us, then, darlin'."

"Why? What'll it do?"

He chucked her chin. "I'm not gonna say. You'll have to find out when it happens."

Drawing back a bit, she scowled at him. "I'm not going to like it, am I? Will it hurt?"

With a quick shake of his head, he gripped her waist and moved her to the couch beside him. "That'd be tellin'. Besides, every sub reacts differently."

"But you intend it as a punishment, don't you?"

He shifted his position to stare down at her. "I'm considering using it as a way to gain your attention. Since you clearly aren't interested in learning how to use chopsticks, go ahead and pick up your fork. I'd rather you ate Western style than starved."

Kelly dipped her utensil into the moo goo gai pan he'd ordered for her along with a side of chicken fried rice and held it there. Less than an hour ago, she'd feared being knifed to death by her former psycho boyfriend and Dom, and, less than thirty minutes ago, she'd been stretched across her police detective Dom's knees while he gave her a spanking for attempting to run away. Then he'd stolen her breath by proposing. It had been a crazy up-and-down night, and though she'd agreed to eat, Kelly's stomach wasn't in concert with her words. She stared at the cooling food.

"Somethin' wrong, Kelly girl?"

She quickly smiled to reassure him. "No. I mean, I'm fine."

"Uh huh. Wanna try that again?"

Grimacing at how easily he read her, she murmured, "I guess my insides still aren't settled after Mike's attack."

"Understandable. I can put our dinner in the fridge and heat it up again later, if you'd like to lie down for a bit."

"I'm not sure I could sleep. I feel tense and uneasy, not sleepy."

He took her plate and set it on the low coffee table in front of them. "Well, I might have a cure for that."

Certain he did, she gave him an impish grin. "And what might you have in mind, Sir?"

Rising, he grasped her hand and led her into her bedroom. "Why don't you fetch us some towels, sugar, while I see to the rest?"

Always eager to play, Kelly scurried to the bathroom, gathered the towels he'd requested, and scampered back with her arms outstretched.

"Good girl," he praised. Removing the fluffy terry cloth from her grasp, he placed the items on the edge of her bed and turned back to slip his fingers beneath her shorts and panties. "Now, let's dispense with these, shall we?"

Once her lower garments were on the floor, she raised her arms so he could remove her top. He liked to undress her, and she enjoyed the attention. It brought back happy memories.

"Okay, up on the bed. I want you on your knees and elbows, with your head restin' on your hands and your butt high in the air."

Though Kelly's stomach dropped to her feet, she hesitated only a second before she obeyed. However, once she got into position, her legs and arms began to tremble.

"What is it, doll?" he asked, while strong fingers gently stroked her back and bottom. "You do realize I'm not gonna hurt you the way that perv did, right?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered as her trembling increased despite knowing Jim would never purposefully cause her any injury or harm.

His hand caressed her hindquarters a little more firmly. "You even came for me when I played with you back here last night."

"I know."

"So, what's got you shiverin' like a newborn colt, now?"

"Nothing. I'm just being stupid." The smack Jim delivered had Kelly snapping her head up and giving an undignified squawk as she turned to scowl at him. "What was that for?" she demanded in a very unsubmissive tone.

"For not bein' truthful with me. This position clearly bothers you for some reason, and I want to understand why. I expect you to answer honestly, when I ask you a question, and not give me prattle like I don't have eyes or a brain in my head." The sharper his voice grew, the more miserable Kelly felt, until her eyes burned with unshed tears.

Jim gave her bottom a couple of reassuring pats. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap, but sometimes you frustrate me."

"I don't intend to," she answered softly.

"Yeah. I get that. But I still need you to be honest with me. So, what else did that asshole do that makes you so nervous about this pose?"

"He made me assume it when he gave me the enema. Then he plugged and restrained me so I couldn't move, keeping me vulnerable and exposed to anyone who came by."

"You have a thing about bein' put on display like that, don't you?

Kelly nodded miserably. "Yes, Sir."

"Did he know that?"

"He knew it was a hard limit for me, but he did it anyway to punish me, probably because I hated it so much. He didn't believe subs should be allowed limits."

"Both subs and Doms have the right to set boundaries, Kelly. Doms might try to stretch their sub's threshold a bit, since it's in their job description to do so, but that doesn't mean hard limits shouldn't be respected. The more I learn about that prick, the more I wish I'd shot him where it would have done some real damage."

Though Kelly's eyes still burned, a giggle emerged at the thought of Jim shooting Mike in his privates, which made him smile back at her. "I really do like that sound, sugar. And I want you to make it often. Despite your unease, would you be willin' to try this for me?"

She nodded. She did trust Jim with all her heart. He might never be able to wipe her memory of all the terrible things Mike had done to her, but he could replace the scarier moments with much more pleasant adventures.

"That's my girl," he praised. "Head down and raise that pert and perky bottom up high for me."

She did as he asked with only a soft groan of protest. As he always did, Jim gave her the time she needed to gather her courage by reassuring her with calming strokes and caresses. "Do you know how much I enjoy touchin' you?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

"No."

"Well, maybe I should tell you, then. Here," he said, running his hand along the curve of her backside, "your skin is petal soft and smooth and, when freshly pink from a light spanking, it blooms like a rose." He kissed the small of her back in a way that had Kelly tingling with pleasure as she gasped in a breath. She loved his petting, and her body responded with tiny shivers of ecstasy.

"Here," he said slowly sliding his fingers down the crease in her buttocks until he reached the warm, wet center of her. "This is one of my favorite play areas where I find the slight scent of honey and jasmine mixed with a salty, earthy aroma that is all you. When I put my lips here, I feel like I've entered the Garden of Eden." The moment his actions followed his words, Kelly tensed and moaned from the exquisite sensation.

"Still," he commanded. "I want you to remain quiet and motionless while I continue my explorations. This is my pleasure journey, not yours, so you must stay open, yet silent, for me. And you do not have permission to come."

Kelly groaned deeply at that, so Jim rewarded her with a light spank. "What did I just say?" he demanded, his tone firm and Dom-like.

"Sorry, Sir," she mumbled. He gave her a harder smack, and she cried out.

Worried, she lifted her head and gazed back at him. "What did I do wrong, now?"

"I asked you a question, and, rather than answer, you apologized. An apology, though appreciated, is not what I sought. You know better."

Uncertain, Kelly drew her lower lip between her teeth then asked, "Are you angry with me?"

His expression immediately softened. "No, sugar. I'm not angry at all. I am only trying to teach you what I want and expect when I'm directing you as your Dom, but I think it may be too soon after everything that's happened. You feelin' a little rocky?"

She nodded as tears filled her eyes again. He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, Sir," she replied dutifully.

"All right. Here's what we'll do. I'm gonna take the taste I want so badly, and you're gonna come for me when you're ready. No teasin', no torture. Just give in to whatever you're feelin'. Agreeable?"

She nodded again then, recalling herself, added, "Yes, Sir."

"All righty then. Back in position." The moment she obeyed, he lowered his lips and gently sucked and nibbled until she was rocking her hips back to press them more firmly against him. He took her right to the edge and gave her clit a gentle nip, which sent Kelly soaring with a cry as she came in his mouth. With Jim playing her like a finely tuned instrument, Kelly ejaculated almost as copiously as a man. Tiny pleasure-filled spasms flowed through her body while he continued coaxing orgasms out of her until her knees could no longer hold their position and she crumpled forward.

Within seconds, he had her stretched out on the sheets. After placing a few light kisses on her hair, he made sure she was warmly covered as her trembling body came down from the erotic high he'd given her.

He slipped in beside her and pulled her against his warmth until her body and spirit calmed. "I am very pleased with you right now, darlin', so I want you to rest for a bit, hear? I need to call the station, so I'll just be in the next room. All right?"'

"Hmm."

Snuggling deep under the covers, Kelly sighed with contentment as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Awakened by a loud bang, little Kelly tossed back her blanket and ran barefoot into her parents' room, but her father wasn't there.

"Where's, Daddy?" she demanded, fists on her hips. Daddy always eased her nightmares and checked to be sure all the monsters were exorcised from under her bed and inside her closet before she lay down. Daddy took care of all the scary things, so Daddy was the person she sought when she'd had a bad dream, which Kelly, with the impeccable logic of a six-year-old, determined must have been what awakened her.

"Shh," her mother hissed, finger to her lips. Kelly could tell Mommy had been crying, and that bothered her, but not as much as the absence of Daddy did.

"I need you to stay in here for a while, Kelly," her mother insisted as she pushed Kelly toward their walk-in closet. "Be a quiet little mouse, and keep hidden until Mommy says it's okay to come out. It won't be long. I promise."

Kelly started to protest, but her mother was closing the door when two men dressed in black, holding what looked like toy guns in their hands, burst into the room. Able to see through the tiny crack left when the door didn't close all the way, Kelly tried to make herself small as she watched and waited for her mother's return.

"Do as we say, lady, and no one needs to get hurt. Go over there," one of the men ordered as he waved the gun from Kelly's mother to her parents' big bed. When her mother stood at the bed's side, Kelly could see the top of her lacy nightgown and the wooden footboard, but not much else since she was crouched on the floor. She didn't recognize the man's voice, and both men wore something sheer over their heads that squished their faces into funny expressions, so she hunkered down on the carpet and clapped a hand over her mouth. She'd originally assumed her mother had wanted Kelly to play a game of hide and seek with Daddy, but, now, she thought something might be wrong. These men were strangers. And they weren't being very nice.

"Lie down, lady, and stay real quiet," the first man said before turning to his partner. "Check for the expensive stuff, while I keep our hostess entertained. This family ain't poor, so they should have something worth our trouble."

"Okay, but I get a turn, too," the other man insisted as Kelly heard him trod over to the dresser beyond her line of vision to rifle through her mother's clothes and jewelry box.

A turn at what? Kelly wondered as the first man pressed a hand over her whimpering mother's mouth then pushed her down on the bed out of Kelly's sight.

"Shh," the man crooned.

"Please—"

"I said quiet, bitch, and I meant it," he growled. "Make one more sound and I'll shoot a bullet through your lovely brain. Would hate to do that, but I will."

Though Kelly couldn't see what the man was doing, she heard her mother give a muffled grunt. Unsure what to do, Kelly curled into a smaller ball and remained as still as the mouse her Mommy told her she needed to be.

Kelly blinked at the strange woman in blue who extended a hand to her, but didn't move. Mommy said she had to stay where she was.

"It's all right, sweetie. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Mommy?" she asked in a tiny voice she didn't recognize as her own.

"Your mommy has been taken to the hospital." The woman crouched down so she was eye-level with Kelly. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Kelly. Where's Daddy?"

"He's with your mommy, Kelly. You're safe with us, now, and Mrs. Simpson will be here shortly to take you to a nice place where you'll be more comfortable. In the meantime, why don't you come out of that closet and walk downstairs with me?"

"Why?"

"Well, you certainly can't be all that comfy in there, can you?"

"I'm okay. Are the men gone?"

"Did you see them?"

Kelly nodded and shut her eyes. "I think one of them hurt Mommy."

"Your mommy isn't hurting anymore, Kelly. She's with people who will take good care of her."

"Isn't she coming home?"

The woman swallowed then slowly shook her head. "No, sweetie. She won't be coming home."

Kelly felt a rising panic inside her. Something was very wrong. "What about Daddy? Is he coming home?"

The woman closed her eyes and looked away for a moment before she turned back. "No. He's going to remain with your mommy, but you don't need to worry about either one of them." The policewoman extended her hand again. "Come with me, Kelly, and we'll fix you something to eat. All right?"

Kelly shook her head. "I'm not hungry." Her eyes burned, and she rubbed at them. "I want my daddy." The woman moved closer to wrap her arms around Kelly, but she resisted. Not wanting to leave her safe haven, Kelly screamed and kicked to get loose. She had to wait where Mommy told her to stay put. If she left, her parents wouldn't be able to find her.

The policewoman pressed Kelly's face to her shoulder as she lifted her out of the closet, but Kelly still saw how red her parent's bed was. Dark red. She hated red. It was an ugly color, and it always smelled wrong. Five or six men stood in the room, but they didn't say anything as Kelly was carried out and down the stairs. She fought to return upstairs. She'd been safe there. But the woman kept tight hold of her and took her into their dining room. She spoke to other people gathered in there, but didn't put Kelly down.

"This is Kelly Franklin. She's our only witness to what happened here yesterday, but I'm not sure how much she'll remember."

# Other Titles

_Don't miss these exciting titles by Kathryn R. Blake and Blushing Books!_

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Lessons in Love

A Simple Misunderstanding

Acting Lessons

Past Interference

* * *

_Unexpected Consequences Series_

Arrested by Love

A Dom's Dilemma

Learning to be Little: Kelly's Story

Connect with Kathryn R. Blake:

www.kathrynrblake.com

# Kathryn R. Blake

Kathryn invites you to enter her world "Where Romance and Fantasy Entwine." She writes about dominant, alpha males who are extremely protective of the women they love. However, part of that protectiveness includes the desire for a certain amount of control. These men do not suffer defiance or disobedience lightly. In fact, those are transgressions they absolutely refuse to tolerate, and will take firm steps to ensure such rashness on the heroine's part never happens again.

Kathryn's books have nothing to do with abuse, where the protagonist desires to hurt and degrade the female under his charge. These spankings, though painful, are always given with love and a desire to correct undesirable behavior or habits.

Though not all of Kathryn's books contain spanking, most of them do. However, even in Kathryn's novels where the hero firmly believes in using corporal punishment as a deterrent, he has no desire to cause the heroine injury and takes no delight in hurting the woman of his heart. In fact, sometimes he finds it extremely difficult to follow through on his threats or promises.

These men aren't infallible, and they do make mistakes, but love and respect will always triumph in the end.

Visit her blog here:

http://krbnaughtythoughts.blogspot.com/

Connect with Kathryn R. Blake:

www.kathrynrblake.com

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# Blushing Books

Blushing Books is one of the oldest eBook publishers on the web. We've been running websites that publish spanking and BDSM related romance and erotica since 1999, and we have been selling eBooks since 2003. We hope you'll check out our hundreds of offerings at http://www.blushingbooks.com.

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