My Naughty Little Secret (24 page)

“You still owe me a spanking, Michael,” I whispered lustfully

“Do I?”

“Yes, for swearing at you earlier,” I reminded him.

“We’ll see. I think I should let you off for your exemplary behaviour this evening.”

I felt oddly disappointed and didn’t respond.

“I am dying to get you in your underwear though, and maybe just one handprint each side of that thong,” he said huskily, noticing my dejection.

“Is it time for home yet?” I asked hopefully.

“Now who is impatient? You really look quite stunning tonight; I just can’t seem to fully appreciate the beauty of the dress though because I’ve seen what’s under it. It sits so beautifully on all your curves and then in my head I see that underwear clinging to those curves. It’s most distracting. I think we should have a new house rule. I shouldn’t see your underwear until we return from a date.”

“Yeah, like that’ll work,” I laughed. “I could always remove them if that would help.”

“Oh, Siobhan,” he groaned, “don’t even talk about it or I’ll spend the rest of the evening with a tent in my trousers. I don’t think that would go down well on my first night on the job. Stop being such a slut!”

We danced a while and mingled for another while, then at midnight Michael whispered, “Your underwear will turn to rags if we don’t leave now.”

We left quietly, leaving the party in full swing, saying goodbye to no one as Michael’s family and Myra had already gone.

Michael opened the door and as I went in he pressed me up against the wall.

“Round three,” he whispered hungrily in the hall, pulling up the skirts of my dress, taking me immediately for six strokes.

“Round four in the kitchen, round five in the living room, and we’ll take the final round in the bedroom.”

He led me to the kitchen, then the living room, and by the time we made it to the bedroom, he was undoing my zip urgently.

“I have to get me an eyeful of that underwear,” he whispered greedily. “Get this thing off.” Michael was impatiently tugging at my dress.

I whipped it off quickly, afraid he was going to tear it in his haste. I draped it across a chair away from his desperate hands. He looked at me in the sexy lingerie.

“Fuck! You’re incredible,” he groaned. “Stand there for a minute. I just want to watch you. Open the lace just enough to expose your breasts.”

I did what he asked, licking my lips tantalisingly. Unbidden, I licked my finger and thumb and started to roll my nipples between them, making them erect and hard. Michael watched spellbound as I kept working my own nipples until I felt all muscles below my bellybutton strain and stiffen, begging for satisfaction.

I licked my finger again and moved to my clit, pushing my panties down just enough for him to see. Michael was watching intently. I knew he could see the colour in my face heighten, telling of my impending orgasm.

“Don’t stop!” he begged as I took a step towards him.

I went back to massaging my clit and I felt myself explode. Michael was beside me in a second, scooping me up in his arms.

“That, Miss Brennan, was the sexiest, naughtiest sight I have ever seen.”

He pulled me across his lap and spanked me twice, really hard, leaving the promised handprint each side of the thong. Placing me standing, still in my underwear and fuck-me shoes, he put my hands on the bed, pulled my thong to the side and fucked me hard and fast until I came again, then he shouted in ecstasy as he poured himself into my feminine chalice.

Chapter Twenty

“Damn it, if this traffic doesn’t clear I’ll never make it,” I panicked watching the gridlock on the way into Heathrow. The cab driver shot me a tense look, which I caught in the rear-view mirror. I had been tense throughout the whole journey and I think he was dying to get this neurotic female out of his car. I thought I’d allowed plenty of time, but the heavy rain brought more traffic and slowed everyone down. Missing this flight would mean I wouldn’t have a hope in hell of getting another one this side of Christmas. This would probably be the last Christmas I would spend at home, on my own anyway, as I’d found it really hard to tear myself away from Michael. Work had been really busy too and I could have done with taking a bit less time off. What was I thinking of; the Christmas season was the busiest time for Banbury’s and here was I swanning off to Ireland for twelve days.

It wasn’t that Michael minded or made me feel guilty, but I knew the pressure was on everyone. I also knew his five-day break would leave James under pressure to fill in for him. I was working myself into such a state that I didn’t even notice the traffic moving again until the cab driver pointed out that we had arrived. I went to pay, but he told me it was on Banbury’s account. Bloody Michael! Or indeed it could have been James; one was as bad as the other. I gave the driver a fiver tip and grabbed my bag and ran. Thank God I had changed into jeans and flats at the office before leaving. The security wasn’t as bad as I’d feared and I got through it just in time.

I wasn’t feeling great, but we’d had a very late night with the staff Christmas party. Hopefully I’d be able to dodge the pub tonight and wait until tomorrow night.

Mam was there to meet me and I felt all the relief of getting into the car for the last leg of the journey. We chatted about the family plans and Mam asked about Michael.

“It’s a pity he couldn’t make it over for Christmas day,” she grumbled.

“I know, Mam, but equally James thought it was a pity I couldn’t be with them for Christmas day. We figured this was the best compromise. You can’t please all the people all the time, you know,” I said, throwing one of my mother’s favourite sayings back at her.

“Don’t be cheeky, Miss,” Mam laughed.

“How’s Dad? Has he forgiven Michael yet?”

“Ah, sure he’s grand and no, not yet.”

“Well, this is going to be a Christmas full of good cheer,” I observed tetchily. I was delighted to be home, but I was off sorts. Michael still hadn’t spanked me properly and it left me frustrated and grouchy. To change the subject to something more upbeat, I said, “Isn’t it great Keeva got picked to take part in that drama? When are they shooting the pilot?”

“The second to the fourth
of January,” Mam answered. “She’s on high dough about it.”

“It’s a great opportunity for her,” I pointed out.

“Tell that to your father. He seems to think it’ll turn her head and that’ll be the end of the studies. You know what he’s like. He’s been down on her about studying since September and to be fair, she is working pretty hard. And she’s agreed to keep away from the theatre until after the exams.”

I could feel the family tensions weighing me down. I had been naïve enough to think it would be a relaxing holiday. I was beginning to dread Michael’s impending arrival into the mix. Five days of trying to keep him out of Dad’s way. I was thinking what a pity it was that he didn’t surf. Still I supposed we could spend an afternoon trying to teach him a bit more. Maybe I should hire a car and book a night in a hotel too.

I texted Michael as soon as I arrived at home as I didn’t want a repeat of the November debacle. I noticed Dad was quite cool with me. Still sulking, I surmised, and decided the best thing to do was act normally and maybe he might come out of it.

Keeva and Aislinn had finished school for the holidays the previous day, so they sat down and had a catch up with a cup of tea—the Irish solution to everything and gradually I began to unwind. Keeva was soon entertaining us with tales of her screen test. She was a talented mimic and she was slipping into the roles of the camera man, the director, and the other actors and taking off some of the disastrous scenes that had ensued, leaving everyone laughing helplessly.

Mam had cooked Irish stew for dinner, real comfort food that even lifted my father’s mood and we spent the evening playing a game of Monopoly, everyone trying to outdo each other. Aislinn bankrupted everyone to win the game and we were laughing at the thought of things to come. She wouldn’t let anyone off as much as one euro in rent. Dad muttered some wisecrack that she had been his last hope in his old age and even that was dashed and I was relieved to see him get into more of the holiday spirit.

I slept late the following morning, shattered after all the stresses of work and the afternoon’s travel. When I got up, Mam and the girls were gone shopping and I was home alone with my dad. Much to my surprise, he made me a cup of tea and toast and put it on the table in front of me. He hadn’t made breakfast for me since I was a little girl and even then it was rare. Normally Mam had kept us fed and watered.

“Thanks, Dad. What’s this for?” I asked suspiciously.

“Can a man not give his daughter a cup of tea without an inquisition?” he said huffily. He sat down at the table with me, helping himself to a cuppa.

“How’s living in sin?” he joked, his eyes not smiling.

It was obvious he was really struggling to come to terms with my new living arrangements.

“Dad,” I sighed. “I have to make my own choices. I’ll be twenty-six next March.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch you make them. You were such a great student, and you did really well in your first job and I know you can do well in any job. I just don’t like to see you shacking up with your boss. It seems like he’s taking advantage.”

“So that’s what this is all about; you think Michael is taking advantage of me. Well, by the same token, maybe his parents think I’m taking advantage of him.”

“But you didn’t know.”

“And I didn’t know his position, so I was free to refuse to go out with him. I was never in fear of losing my job; well, not that I knew of, anyway.”

“He should’ve told you. I don’t like that you started on a lie.”

“Neither did I, Dad, but I got over it. You should too. At least give him a chance when he’s over. Look to the man beyond the lie. He is very good to me, he spoils me rotten.”

“That’s only money, Siobhan, you know that; trust and honesty is what makes a relationship,” my father said very seriously.

“Oh, Dad, I trust him completely, he takes better care of me than I take of myself. He has given me so much confidence. He’s been really good for me,” I tried to reassure Dad as tears welled up in my eyes.

“You’re good enough for his bed, but not for his bride,” Dad added petulantly.

“Ah, Jaysus, Dad, not that old nut. This is 2013. Anyway, if Michael had his way, we would be married already; it’s me who won’t commit. I don’t want to rush into it. As Mam says, ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure.’ I’m happy living with him, getting to know him, and very probably in time I will marry him. Don’t you start pushing me into that decision. It’s bad enough to have to fight Michael on it.” I was getting a bit annoyed by now.

“He wants to marry you, does he? You never said.”

“I told Mam; she must have decided not to tell you in case you started to put pressure on me. She knows how I feel about it. What’s more, she agrees with me. Look, you two lived together. What’s the difference?”

“You’re my little girl and I worry about you out there in the big bad world. And that yer man is your boss really bothers me,” Dad said pettishly.

“‘Yer Man’ as you call him is Michael, and yes, he is my boss, but he didn’t hire me, nor did he promote me or set my salary and I am free to leave any time if the work situation doesn’t suit me,” I bristled. “But it’s a great job and I love it. I just happen to love my boss too.” Then I added a bit more softly, “Just give him a chance, Dad, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll try,” he said doubtfully. Things didn’t bode well.

“Is an old man fit to go surfing with his daughter?” I asked, trying to tease him into better humour.

“I don’t know, who’s the old man and I’ll ask him.” I pointed to him.

“Ok, so! You’re on, you cheeky monkey. Let an old pro show you how it’s done.”

Dad had taught me my love to surf when I was little, but he seldom indulged now as his body couldn’t take the bashing as well as it used to. He had a few bad falls in recent years and it was taking him longer to recover, but he seemed to like the thought of sharing the afternoon with his little girl and we suited up and hit the waves. By the time we finished up we were exhilarated and laughing and joking like usual. I felt so much lighter; I’d always been really close to him and it saddened me that he was so set against Michael.

“Jesus, Shiv, I haven’t had that much fun in years. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often,” Dad said, coming out of the water.

“I’m starving after that, fancy going to grab some pub grub?” I asked. There was nothing like the sea air to give you an appetite.

“Ok! Race you to get ready.”

After a steaming bowl of seafood chowder and two big doorstops of brown bread, we were sated and happy. I decided to test the waters.

“Would you think about trying to teach Michael to surf a bit when he is over? After all, you taught me and look what a good job you did of that.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Miss. You think if I get him out there on the waves I’ll go easier on him. You were always good at finding ways to make people get on. I see now why they wanted you for that personnel manager’s job. You must be good at the industrial relations side of it.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then. Thanks, Dad.”

Somehow, the surfing had smoothed things over and I was relieved we were on a more even keel. Perhaps the holiday would be more relaxing than I feared. Later that afternoon I received a phone call from Michael.

“Hi,” he said

“Hi yourself—what’s up?”

“Doesn’t matter what’s up, it’s going to have to stay up,” he laughed. “I’m just missing you.”

“Yeah, me too. I was cold in bed without you. I had to wear fluffy pyjamas and I forgot to bring Teddy.”

“Thank goodness I wasn’t there to see that sacrilege. How are your family?”

“They’re all good. Dad had the grumpies at first, but I think he’s settling down.”

“He’s not still mad at you, is he?” Michael asked, with concern. “I thought he would have calmed down by now.”

“We had a chat and then went surfing—he seems in better humour now. He’s going to teach you to surf,” I told him.