Page 37 of T is for…

Nathan made a noise best described as “gack” as he reared back, leaning hard into the couch. “Tickling? Shit no.”

Tara couldn’t stop the smile at his over-the-top reaction, even as she said, “Isn’t that what the feather is for?”

Nathan gripped her thighs hard, and instead of making her self-conscious about their size and squishiness, the hold, especially the pressure, felt good.

“Tickling…” Nathan made a dramatic gagging noise.

“Alright, calm down.” Tara dropped her hands to prop them on her hips and shook her head at his dramatics, though she was still smiling.

“Let me just compartmentalize my horror.” He mimed putting something in a box. “I expect you to pay for my therapy.”

She’d forgotten he could be like this, totally goofy and ridiculous. It was almost like looking into the past, at the young man she’d first met. Not that witty-banter adult Nathan was a bad thing. It was more that when they talked, usually it was work-based, and she got the sharp-intellected, serious-scientist Nathan.

In recent years, this goofy version came out only they were at a wedding and some ridiculous song came on, and he busted out the purposefully terrible dance moves.

“No tickling,” she said, half question.

“I’d rather put my dick in a blender than either tickle someone or be tickled.”

She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to his crotch.

This was Nathan. Her best friend. Her oldest friend. And yes, she was straddling his lap, mostly naked, after having been spanked, but thinking about his cock seemed?—

“Hey, come back. Get out of your head, Tara.”

Tara’s gaze snapped up to his.

He cupped her cheek. “Stay here, in this moment, with me.”

Emotion swelled, and her throat tightened as if she were about to cry again.

Nathan grabbed her wrists in his big hands. She expected him to guide her arms back into position, and was already starting to lift them.

Instead, he jerked her arms forward and down. Her upper chest and shoulder hit his chest as she was yanked forward, her cheek sliding against his before her face settled against his neck. He pressed her hands against the cushion on either side of his hips and then pulled his arms free, wrapping one around her back.

Her ass had lifted off his knees when he pulled her forward, and now his arm around her kept her in that position, butt elevated several inches.

His free hand came down on her ass in a hard swat.

Tara sucked in air, eyes wide in shock, and yes, pain. That hurt. Her poor abused bottom had only just stopped throbbing, and now he was lighting her up again.

He tightened his hold, reaching across her back to spank her other cheek.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she yelped, jamming her shoulders and neck harder against him.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For dropping my hands.”

“Nope.” Another spank.

“For—”

Again, he spanked her, and that made two on each side. This was genuine pain, and yet her pussy throbbed.

“I’m sorry for getting lost in my thoughts and worries,” she said against his neck in a rush, pressing her face to the soft skin under his ear.

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

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