Page 23 of Sinister Games

The image was fitting considering my future plans for her.

* * *

Lizzie

There was no thinking.Only feeling.

The brush of Richard’s knuckles across my still sensitive skin as he gently pulled my dress back into place. The feel of him gathering my hair into his hand and off my face. Him cradling my body on his lap as he wrapped his jacket around me. Then the feeling of floating as he carried me in his arms.

Somehow, we got into a car. Through my sensual fog, I realized it wasn’t a cab but rather a large private Town Car. Richard was speaking to the driver as if he knew him.

Finally, he settled back into the plush seats with me on his lap, my head on his shoulder.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I would think about what had just happened.

Tomorrow I would replay, probably over and over again in my mind, how I shamelessly begged a complete stranger to spank me. I wasn’t naïve, I knew some people thought spanking was kinky, I just never thought I was one of them.

Tomorrow, the guilt, shame, and recriminations would come.

Tomorrow I would wonder if I ruined a good thing with my outlandish wanton behavior.

Tomorrow I would wonder if there was even a tomorrow with this man who so enthralled me, I lost all sense of self and decorum.

Tomorrow… just not tonight.

Tonight, I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I remembered was Richard gently shaking me awake telling me I was home.

Opening the car door first, he got out then reached out a hand to help me. Thankfully, because my legs were still shaking as I tentatively emerged from the car.

As I approached my apartment building door, I tried to give him his jacket.

“Keep it. Give it back to me tomorrow when I pick you up for dinner.”

Tomorrow.

So, there would be a tomorrow.

I hugged the jacket closer, hiding my smile in his turned-up lapel. It smelled even stronger of his cologne than his overcoat.

As he turned to go, I held onto his sleeve. “Wait!” My cheeks flamed with the question I was about to ask but I had no choice. “What is your last name?”

“Payne. Richard Payne.”

He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before jumping into the back of the sleek black car. Moments later it sped away.

Digging in my purse for the keys, I turned and stared at the now empty street as an odd thought pierced the haze in my mind.

How did he know where I lived?

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