Page 51 of What About Love

Chapter 11

SHIFTING TO HER HIPon the thickly cushioned couch eased the tenderness in her bottom. She couldn’t complain. Her dom for the night had done as she requested by administering a firm paddling over her panties. In hindsight, she should have defined the word firm.

Still, George had been sweet, sensing her unease and going along with her scripted scene. When she’d brought it up, negotiating as Val called it, he had smiled and patted her hand.

“I was an actor in college. I’m always up for a rousing melodrama.”

And boy had he delivered. For a moment, she thought he’d gotten too much into his role and yellow was on the tip of her tongue, but he seemed to know she was approaching her limit. He paused and rubbed her scorching bottom, but did so while lecturing her as if she was a misbehaving child.

Afterward, he’d helped her from the padded bench and escorted her back to their booth. Pulling the curtain, he’d cuddled her close, stroking her back and brushing away the real tears that beaded on her lashes yet hadn’t fallen. He’d even convinced her to bare her bottom so he could check the damage and applied a soothing lotion he’d called Arnica.

Rolling gingerly to her other hip, she wished she had some of it now. She also wished she hadn’t had to disappoint George by turning down his invitation for dinner. He was really a very nice man. With the drape closed and no prying eyes to see, she had politely declined as she’d given him a soft kiss on the cheek. She’d gone on to thank him for the scene—essentially thanking him for spanking her, which a week ago would have seemed impossible—telling him it was exactly as she envisioned it.

A knock on the door startled her. She stood, wincing when her sore butt made contact with the mattress—a pillow top but not pillowy enough tonight—and made her way slowly to the door. She opened it to find T lounging against the doorframe, gorgeous as ever.

Offering him a bright smile, she said, “Good morning.”

“Is it? I came to check.”

“I’m good. Come in.” She pulled the door wider. “I have coffee.”

“No time. We have to be across the street in twenty minutes for a meeting with the Rossi team and the detectives from the LAPD who are leading the investigation.” His gaze skated down her body, taking in her T-shirt and shorts.

“It will take me only a minute to change.” She crossed to the bedroom only realizing he was a step behind her when she turned to close the door. “Um, T. What are you doing? I’m going to get dressed.”

“I told you, I came to check.”

He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant, surely. “Check on what?”

The look he gave her seemed to question her intelligence. “You got paddled last night. Take off your shorts and lay down on the bed so I can take a look.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re tender. I can tell.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her across the room.

“T!” Protesting, she dug in her heels, though in bare feet, she slid across the hardwood floor. “I’m not dropping my pants for you.”

“Don’t argue. We don’t have time. This is happening.” He sat and easily toppled her over his thigh.

“I can’t believe you,” she gasped as she struggled to break free of his hold. He was too strong.

“Hush now.” He held a small white tube in front of her face. “I’ve got something that will soothe the ache.”

Recognizing the lotion as the same George had used last night, the same kind she’d been wishing for only minutes before, she stilled, torn with indecision.

“Nothing I haven’t seen, darlin’. I promise to be gentle.”

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