Spank or Treat 2014 Read online

  A bit of a scowl pursed Lucas’s lips, and he hedged, “What about it?”

  “Well, you have this ‘thing’ about Sun’s Days,” Alex said slowly. “Where does that one come from?”

  Lucas felt his face grow hot. “I don’t have a ‘thing’ about Sun’s Days,” he mumbled at his dirty toes. “Just… It’s only that… Well…” He heaved a long sigh. “Well, I only said ‘because it’s Sun’s Day,’ that one time because I couldn’t think of a good reason, and you just assumed the rest. Who was I to argue?”

  There. So, he was a deviant and a selfish deviant at that. And anyway, he’d had a good run with it—it had taken Alex nearly three years to catch on, and Lucas had had lots of pleasant Sun’s Days in those three years, so he supposed it only made sense it would all have to end today. Because today just wouldn’t stop coming.

  “Hmph,” said Alex. Lucas peered over at him, expecting maybe indignation or accusations of trickery or something; instead, Alex was simply looking thoughtfully down the lane, his head tilted to the side. He blinked then turned to Lucas. “I see what you mean about habit,” he said. “I suppose I’ve a bit of a ‘thing’ for Sun’s Days now.” He shrugged with a crooked little grin. “I think we should keep it.”

  Way too easy. Lucas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Just like that?”

  Alex waved a hand, breezy and blithe. “Why not?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Lucas answered slowly then tilted his head. “What about Mid’s Days?”

  This time Alex’s eyes flickered but he only shrugged again. “If you want.”

  “Crown’s Days.”

  “All right.”

  Right then, this was just too much. Lucas leaned in and peered closely at Alex. It was one of those ongoing things between them, that bit of a skirmish for control. Lucas had come to think of the tussle itself almost as foreplay over the years, and he was quite certain Alex did as well. With the exception of Sun’s Days, Lucas thought they each got their own way on a fairly even basis. And Lucas knew without a single doubt that Alex liked that control far too much for him to give it up just like that. Lucas had been a bit suspicious before; now he was downright wary.

  “What if I wanted the top every day?” Lucas asked.

  He could see Alex’s jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth and tried to maintain his easy countenance. “If it’s that important to you and it’s really what you want.”

  “Hm....” Lucas leaned back, lifting an eyebrow and trying not to smile. Perhaps he was being petty for wanting a bit of revenge simply because Alex was too bloody perfect, but he’d had a really bad day and… and…. Well, he’d had a really bad day. “Miss Emma left a nice beef liver in the cold-cellar.” He smiled a little and killed the smirk that was trying to quirk at his mouth. “Why don’t we fry it up with some bacon, have a glass or two of bitter, then top it off with some raspberry cobbler while the coppers are heating?”

  Alex’s smile was nearly a pained grimace now. And Lucas wasn’t sure but he thought Alex’s eyes might be watering. He had just named everything he knew of that Alex absolutely hated and still—

  “Sounds lovely,” Alex said through his teeth.

  Well, that tore it. Lucas had had quite enough condescension from Greenly, thank you very much, he didn’t need it from Alex as well, blast it all.

  “Why are you being so agreeable?”

  It came out sharp enough that Alex flinched back a little. His mouth flapped and he blinked.

  “What? I only said—”

  “You hate liver.”

  Alex’s gaze flickered away quickly then back again to Lucas. “Well, I don’t actually hate li—”

  “You hate it. And you hate bitter and you hate raspberries.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “You’re handling me!” Lucas accused.

  Alex looked shocked. “What, I’ve barely even touched you!”

  “No, I mean handle, like I’m one of your father’s customers or vendors or something, and all you have to do is get me drunk and laid and everything will be all better. We’re not going to have sex, you know, so just stop trying to maneuver me.”

  Alex was indignant. “I wasn’t doing anything of the sort, and I don’t appreciate you accusing me of—wait, no sex at all?”

  “No.”

  “But….” Alex shook his head a little. “But it’s Mid’s Day and you just said—”

  “You know, a blowjob isn’t a cure-all.”

  “For five minutes it is.”

  “I think if I lost an arm, you’d think a blowjob would make it better.”

  “For five minutes, it would!”

  “I cannot even believe you,” Lucas grated. “You show up here, all clean and perfect and bloody gorgeous, work your magic over Greenly and Walker, and leave me standing here in my drawers, looking inept and completely foolish, and now you want sex?”

  Alex grinned. “I’m a big fan of you in your drawers.”

  And blast it, why were the corners of Lucas’s mouth twitching?

  “Whatever I did once upon a time,” he said, adding timbre to the unfortunately not-quite-stern-enough tone of his voice, “when we first became… close, I cannot comprehend. It must have given you the lasting impression that I’m a pushover, easy, a man without standards.”

  “Well,” said Alex reasonably, “we did kind of shag twenty minutes after we met.”

  All right, so... fair point. Lucas didn't let that interfere with his not-entirely-righteous wounded pride, though. He stood, rising to his full height, which could not, under any circumstances, be considered towering or intimidating, but he gave it a good go.

  “Nonetheless, let me put you straight, shall I?”

  “Mm, I love it when you get all bossy and tetchy.” Alex stood, too, crowding close, his grin quite wide now, and completely undaunted by Lucas’s inability to loom.

  And for all his annoyance, Lucas was quite stuck now, because that grin was doing things in his trousers that it should not be doing when he was so supremely irked. And “handling” him or no, Alex had a bloody amazing talent for turning Lucas’s moods from self-involved sullenness to cheer a vexing amount of the time, and Lucas didn’t think he wanted to let go of the irritation just yet.

  “Please do set me straight,” Alex said. “Or I could set you straight, if you’d rather. I quite like you straight.” He nuzzled into the crook of Lucas’s neck and pulled him in tight. “You’re bloody gorgeous straight… and bent, and crooked, and upside-down, and twisted half-sideways, and that thing you do when you curl over backwards—”

  Lucas shoved at Alex with a grumble that was more like a chuckle and a scowl that wasn’t even close to convincing. “Stop trying to flatter me,” he said. “Or you’ll never get the top again.”

  And blast him, but Alex only waggled his eyebrows. “Watch yourself, love,” he told Lucas, his voice low and seductive, and he tugged at the hair that had escaped the tail at the back of Lucas’s neck. “Your ‘fiery redhead’ is showing.” He leaned in again and nipped at Lucas’s ear as he pulled the loose ribbon from Lucas’s hair. He sank his fingers in deep and tugged.

  There went the irritation.

  Lucas tried not to grin, he really did, dipping his head so at least Alex wouldn’t see it. He lifted his shoulder and nudged Alex away.

  “Leave off,” he said and even he could hear the reluctant smile in his voice. “I reek.”

  A sloppy kiss to his temple and Alex pulled back. “You do,” he agreed. “Stay here. I’ll go see how Greenly’s doing and start the coppers.”

  All irritation was lost and immediately forgotten when Alex returned. Grinning.

  And when he decided it was too late to cook and instead brought Lucas a glass of beer and a plate of cold chicken—in the bath—Lucas forgot there even was such a thing as irritation.

  ~

  Lucas eyed his mother’s vase, safe and sound atop the press, just a lit
tle slick and greasy about the rim, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

  “Owowow, leg, Lucas, ow, my leg!”

  Lucas pulled back, growled a little. He eyed Alex: hair askew with tendrils of black sticking damp to cheeks and brow and yet still somehow perfect; face sweated and looking quite debauched; one long, thick leg curled up and bent over Lucas’s shoulder. Alex’s chest was heaving, lean muscle stretching and bunching beneath skin of bronze, filigreed with late-afternoon sun streaming in through the gap in the curtains.

  “Have you any idea,” Lucas murmured to him, leaned forward again just to hear Alex’s sharp intake of breath, “how often you’ve twisted me into this very position?”

  A gasp and a bit of a whine, then: “Well, you never seem to mind it much!” Alex grimaced as Lucas rested his weight on Alex’s thigh. “And in case you hadn’t noticed,” Alex grated through his teeth, panting with the strain, “you’re a bit more malleable than I am. Bloody wiry little—”

  A quick thrust of Lucas’s hips, and he smiled at the sound that rolled up from Alex’s chest—something between a whimper and a moan.

  “You are such a baby.” Lucas sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “You act as though… oh….” That last as Alex rolled his hips, pushed up slow. “…act as though you’re made of wood.”

  “Oh, that right there, yesyesyes, again,” Alex breathed then, when Lucas pulled back to do it again: “Not all of us have bread-dough for bones, you know. Bloody freak of nature you are, in case—gah! owowow, all right, I’m sorry!”

  Lucas released Alex’s ankle from where he’d lifted it above his head and let Alex’s leg fall back to a more natural position. With a smirk, Lucas pulled back and away, at which Alex gasped, hissed and clenched his teeth. He opened his eyes to blink up at Lucas, his brow creased.

  “What are you doing?” Confused and indignant. “Why have you—?”

  “Turn over,” Lucas said.

  More blinking and a frown. Then a pout. “Sorry, what?”

  Lucas smiled a little. He leaned down, dropped a kiss, soft and sweet, to Alex’s mouth. “You said anything I wanted.” A quick flick of his tongue across Alex’s bottom lip. “Turn. Over.”

  “But….” Alex tried on a wounded look, which Lucas ignored. “But I like it better this—”

  “And this is about what I like now, isn’t it?” Lucas climbed over Alex’s leg, pushed at his hip then gave him a sharp smack on the (stupid bloody perfect) bottom. He ignored Alex’s yip and said, “I’ve had a very bad day, remember? Come on, then, be a good lad.”

  Alex sat up and gave the wounded look another go. “But….” He combined it with the pout. “But I like to look at you.” He dipped his head and peered at Lucas through his lashes. “Don’t you like to look at me?”

  Lucas just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Instead he smiled again then laid another kiss to Alex’s mouth.

  “Of course I do, lovely Alex-lad.” He ran his hand up Alex’s arm to swirl his fingers over one broad shoulder. “But right now I’d like to look at your arse and your shoulders. Quite lovely, you know.” He gave Alex another push and, when Alex didn’t move fast enough, another smack. “Come on, over with you, hurry on.”

  Alex gave up the pout and turned it to a scowl, but he was moving now, so Lucas didn’t complain. “All business today, aren’t you, then?” Alex grumbled as he swung his legs over and rolled to his stomach. “You only love me for my body.”

  “Nonsense,” Lucas told him. “I love you for your pretty face, too.”

  “My body and my face,” Alex mumbled into the pillow. “I feel used.”

  “Not yet you don’t.” Lucas moved between Alex’s legs, knelt, then ran his hands slowly from calf to thigh. “Mmm,” he breathed as he slid his fingers over muscle and rib and backbone, dipped down to run his tongue up the narrow valley of Alex’s spine. “But I promise you,” he whispered into Alex’s nape, “you will.”

  For more of Lucas and Alex, check out The Queen’s Librarian

  Carole lives with her husband and family in Pennsylvania, USA, where she spends her time trying to find time to write. The recipient of various amateur writing awards, several of her short stories have been translated into Spanish, German, Chinese and Polish. Free shorts, sneak peeks at WIPs, and other miscellany can be found at www.carolecummings.com.

  The Spanking Connection by Sara Daniel

  Maddie spread a worn blanket in the grass next to the clear stream. She would miss these weekly picnics by the creek, but even more, she’d miss Jonah, her sexy, enigmatic picnic buddy.

  Unable to afford both the Wisconsin cabin and her Chicago apartment, she didn’t have much choice but to let go of the property she’d inherited from her grandmother in favor of the location within walking distance of her city job.

  “Your face is way too glum for the last gorgeous weekend of the year.” Jonah emerged from the path linking their cabins. With black hair gracing his shoulders and his black T-shirt stretched tight over his sculpted chest, he looked like he belonged on the cover of one of those romance novels she’d found in the cabin’s attic.

  Unlike those too-macho cover models, he carried a wicker basket full of 100 percent natural and delicious foods he’d prepared from his garden. She’d never find anything as amazing in the city—neither food nor man.

  “I won’t be here next summer…or even next week.”

  His gorgeous body stilled, and his smile faded. “What happened?”

  Since she’d already ruined the perfect day, she had no reason to put off telling him. “I’ve decided to sell my cabin.”

  “Well, you’re not dying,” he said slowly. “That’s good news. Can’t stand your redneck neighbor?”

  “My neighbor has been nothing but wonderful.” And his presence brought her every nerve ending to life. Saying good-bye was harder than she’d imagined. “And for the record, your neck was only sunburned for half the summer.”

  She rose and kicked off her shoes, padding barefoot through the grass. In the past nine months, he’d become her best friend, her confidant, and very nearly her lover. Scared sex would change the bond between them, she hadn’t wanted to take the step and risk losing him. After today, she’d lose him anyway.

  She glided her hand over the smooth planes of his cheek, trying to imprint the features on her palm. “Grandmother willed the cabin to me, expecting me to connect with nature and explore my roots as a witch. Quite bluntly, I failed.”

  She’d spent most of her life disappointing the eccentric family members who expected her to buy into her natural and magical heritage. Stuffed in a boardroom for sixty-hour work weeks, she barely glimpsed real sunlight, never mind immersed herself in the natural world.

  “We have picnics in the middle of nature every week. You’re connecting.”

  “Not with nature. I’m connecting with you. Trust me, Jonah. When I’m with you, I can’t focus on anything else. I’m a bad witch.”

  His lips quirked. “Does the bad witch need a spanking?”

  “Of course not.” He might be able to joke, but she couldn’t, not with her eyes blurring and her throat clogging with unshed tears. Being a Wiccan failure didn’t upset her, but never again focusing exclusively on him did.

  She took the picnic basket from his grasp and turned away. Bending over it, she began pulling dishes from the basket. Usually, she couldn’t wait to taste the organic vegetarian feast, but her appetite had vanished.

  “I think a spanking is exactly what you need.”

  His quiet words sent a hot thrill through her. She tugged her waist-length shirt, but it was too short to provide an extra layer over the formfitting leggings covering her ass. At least the ridiculous suggestion had evaporated the threat of tears. “How will humiliating me and giving me a sore butt help me get in touch with nature?”

  “You’ve been trying for nine months, and nothing else has worked, so
you obviously don’t have a better idea. And I don’t intend to humiliate you. Come here.” He rested his palm on her ass.

  She jumped, half-wishing for a stinging slap, half-wishing he’d gently explore her cheeks and then rock her world with the most intimate of caresses.

  Taking her hand, he led her to the edge of the creek, where the clear, shallow water gurgled over small stones. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He brushed his lips across hers, silencing her with his sweetness. “Then let’s try it. You can tell me to stop anytime.” He sat on a flat rock, facing upstream, and patted his thighs.

  Maddie took a deep breath. The stuffy businesswoman in her couldn’t believe she’d consider such a barbaric practice. The rest of her was a little interested, a little hesitant, and a lot turned on. “Have you spanked anyone before?”

  “I’ve fantasized about spanking you since the first time I saw you.”

  She didn’t have to worry about anything trumping the humiliation of their meeting. A downward-facing dog yoga position in the creek did not connect a novice witch with nature, regardless of the Internet testimonials claiming otherwise.

  The heat of Jonah’s gaze burned away her mortification, leaving a hot coal of desire in its place. Despite her failure as a witch, she could give him a good-bye gift and fulfill his fantasy.

  Awkwardly, she bent over his lap, staring down at the rippling rocks beneath the shallow water while he adjusted her hips against his thighs. Her shirt rode up, and she reached to tug it over her waist. Intercepting her, he guided her hands into the water.

  The cold liquid rushed over her palms, filling her senses until the snap against her ass yanked her back into the moment. She jolted against his lap, and the current splashed up her wrists.

  A delicious hardness behind Jonah’s zipper pressed against her side, filling her with desire. The spanking thing really did turn him on. And he wasn’t the only one. She was so hot and wet, she had to fight the urge to squirm.