Spanking Her Highness (6 page)

She could have auditioned for the Austin Symphony Orchestra, closer to home, and, since she knew someone in the string section, she had a decent shot at getting in, but her first love was country music. She wanted to focus on that for a few more years. Nashville might be the best place to go to get her original songs heard, but that was away from family and friends even more than she was with the band's road schedule.

Anyway, there was no room for a relationship in all that travel and the exhaustion it brought with it. It nagged at her that she was devoting all her efforts on her music while other parts of life passed her by. As her brothers got married, they were also going to start families. Families that, if she continued down her current path, she would not have for herself.

The idea of nieces and nephews was welcome, but did she always want to be Aunt Queenie and never Mama?

Which made her think of Will again. There was a spark between them, albeit a dangerous one. Too dangerous. She'd have to give up part of herself, share herself with someone else, and, after Harry, that seemed like a pretty stupid idea. Harry had taken her love and twisted it up in knots until the good parts had all seeped out, like a wrung dishrag. Will probably wasn't the same kind of guy, but she was afraid to take a chance and be wrong about him. Her track record was crappy.

Nevertheless, she had to deal with Harry sending somebody to rough her up, and maybe Will could help with that. If he remembered something she'd said that might give the sheriff more to go on, it was smart to find out.

Calling him was an option, but she wanted to get out of the house, away from her confusing thoughts. Maybe seeing him again would pop the bubble she'd begun to blow for him. She gathered up her stuff and headed out to her car. The bumper was thoroughly dented after the crime, but it was still drivable.

It didn't take her long to get to the old Caswell place.

Arthur Spencer opened the door when she knocked. They knew each other from church, though she was an unreliable worshipper, going to Mass when she was on the ranch but not while she was on the road.

She'd been expecting Will, but she realized with a start that that would have been unlikely. Will was undoubtedly out on his ranch somewhere.

"Hi, Arthur…I'm here to see Will. Is he around?"

The man smiled, his teeth bright white though a little crooked. "It's purely a pleasure to see you, Queenie. Come in." He pressed the screen door open and Queenie entered the cool interior.

 It hadn't been changed much since the Caswells moved out. There was the same white wainscoting and blue sprigged wallpaper. The furniture was updated—leather with bright blue pillows scattered around. It looked pleasant and welcoming, though it needed a few more knick-knacks to make it a little more homey. When she'd been there last, she'd been so upset, she hadn't noticed much at all.

"Thanks, Arthur."

"Will is out on the property, but he should be back soon. It's gettin' late in the day."

"Oh…"

"Why don't you take a seat and wait for him? Want some iced tea? Dr. Pepper?"

She wasn't sure if she should wait or not. The idea made her slightly uncomfortable, but she couldn't quite figure out why. However, she wouldn't get what she wanted unless she talked to Will, so she nodded and thanked Arthur, accepting his offer of sweet tea.

The sitting room where Arthur sent her was a little more familiar to her than the main room. Some of the features were memorable from the day of the incident, though she hadn't gotten a full impression of the place through her tears and upset. It smelled warm from the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, and there was a slight scent of lemon furniture wax.

It wasn't long after her tea was served that Will came into the room. He looked a little tired, and the line between his brows was deeper as well. However, he greeted her with a big smile on his face. "It's my favorite neighbor! Come to visit?"

A gentle thrill went through her at the sight of him. He was so handsome, with his sun-tipped dark red hair and bright eyes. Queenie tamped down the urge to run her hands over his broad shoulders and thick biceps. Shaking her head slightly, she quickly came to the matter which drew her to visit.

"Not exactly. The sheriff is having some trouble figuring out who tried to ram me the other day. I was hoping you might remember something I said." A slight heat brushed her cheeks. "I was a little…upset."

He sat next to her on the couch. "Yeah, you were. Well…you didn't say much."

She rose. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Will took her hand and pulled her back down beside him. "You're not bothering me. Let's see…you said that you'd been hit by an SUV, and that you thought the driver was trying to run you off into the drainage ditch."

"Did I describe the driver?"

"Not really. You thought it was a woman."

Queenie sighed. It looked like she'd been so hysterical that all she'd done was blubber. She withdrew her hand from his and knotted her fingers together in her lap. She watched Will's face, looking for any hint of new information. "That's all I said?"

He nodded, covering her hands with one of his while he brushed his fingertips along her cheek. As she'd done before, she leaned into that warm hand, then caught herself. "I should go."

"Don't go."

Will got closer, and she could feel his breath against her lips.

"I…I can't stay."

"No?"

His lips hovered over hers, nearly touching her.

"Please…"

"I thought you'd never ask." Will's lips took hers in a searing kiss. It was rough and demanding as though he couldn't hold back, but Queenie didn't fight him. She couldn't fight him; her heart wouldn't have been in it. She wanted that kiss; she'd dreamed about it. As his tongue fought with hers, she couldn't do more than press herself against him and encourage his arms to come around her.

She heard soft moans coming from somewhere and realized they were from her. Will cradled her head in his big hands, pressing her face against his. Queenie gasped when his mouth left hers and began to travel over her chin, the plane of her jaw, to her ear and down her neck.

There was nothing between her ear and the strap of her sundress. Nothing but skin and a million eager nerve endings. Another moan soughed from her throat.

"You're so beautiful," he told her. It wasn't an original idea, but Queenie felt like no one had ever said it before, like no one had ever meant it so much as Will did.

She felt the heat of his hands against her back, and then he encouraged her to lie back against the cushy arm of the sofa. His body covered hers and he snaked a hand down her side and up to cup her breast.

"Oh, honey." His mouth drew down her chest and he uncovered her breast for his lips to caress.

She said his name, though it was more of a sigh. Excitement raced over her skin and an urgent pulse beat low in her belly. Will suckled at her breast and she arched her back, encouraging him. His hair was soft in her fingers.

As he teased her nipple, he released the other breast from her dress and kneaded it firmly.

Queenie felt like she couldn't get enough, couldn't be close enough to him, needed to be with him, be a part of him. She needed to feel him inside her.

Wrapping her knees around him, she rubbed her pelvis against his, reveling in the welcome feel of his thick erection against her. She snaked a hand between them and grabbed him, not very gently. He made a deep-throated sound, and nipped at her breast. But it didn't seem like discouragement, exactly the opposite, in fact.

"Squeeze me harder and I'll take you over my knee, Queenie," he whispered in her ear.

A frisson of remembered longing spidered through her body. That first spanking had made her so wet. It exposed her intimately, and her rear had been hot as though he was behind her, mounting her.

She squeezed his dick harder.

He growled and, practically before she realized what was going on, he'd turned her and yanked her pelvis up, putting her effectively on her hands and knees there on the couch. Cool air flowed over her ass as he tossed her skirt up, and there was a popping sound as he ripped the tiny elastic sides from her thong, throwing the scrap on the floor. His hand came down on her rump firmly several times, and the urgency in her loins grew intense.

The leather sofa cushion was cool against her face. She gasped out, "Yes!"

He smacked her again and again, and she felt the wetness between her legs spill over, making a tiny trail down her inner thigh. Will continued to spank her and she moaned into the arm of the sofa. It was as if the surge of pain coincided with the surge of need in her womb. She wanted him deep. She
needed
him in her, now!

"Will," she cried, and it became a litany of longing.

Hot and provocative, his hand continued coming down on her, and then it stopped. She craned her neck, peeking behind her. He was unfastening his belt, his pants. When his dick sprang free, she licked her lips and pressed her butt back toward him, encouraging him to do it, to join her, to take her.

He parted her lower lips with his fingers, and made a pleased sound as he found her wet and ready for him. She could smell her own excitement and imagined briefly how that would change once they'd orgasmed together. "Do it! Now, now, now!" she urged.

Will smacked her rump with his wet fingers but went back to her pussy, plunging inside with his fingers until she could barely stand it anymore. "Please…oh God…Will!"

Without warning, his dick slammed into her, filling her. She shuddered and pressed back, driving him deeper still.

"Yeah, honey," he moaned. "That's it. Yeah."

She wanted to scream her need, but the tide of pleasure was rising. No coherent words could form and she could do nothing but meet his thrusts as they came faster and faster.

The finish line was before her, and leap by strenuous leap she got closer, until it broke against her, in her. Her cry came from deep within and she wriggled her bottom against his pelvis, demanding one more thrust, one more moment of bliss.

He groaned as he rammed her, holding onto her hips as if she was his life preserver. She could feel his prick pulsing and knew he was coming.

And then realization hit her. She'd made it with Will Mazie. And they hadn't used a condom. And she hadn't been on birth control for a year.

"Oh God!"

He relaxed behind her, oblivious to her rising panic. "Mmm. Yeah."

She pulled forward, and he slid out of her, still hard and wet. "Get away from me!"

He released her hips immediately. "What's wrong?"

"I can't. We can't. I have to go!" Queenie turned on the couch, grabbing her torn thong off the floor.  Her pussy was soaked, and she had a moment of pleasure at the lingering smell of sex in the room and on her body. But she had to get away. This hadn't happened. She hadn't been so stupid. Panic made her movements jerky as she straightened and grabbed her purse, running a trembling hand through her mussed hair quickly.

"Where are you going? Damn it, Queenie!" His fingers wrapped around her wrist and he halted her as she made to leave. "Talk to me, woman!"

"No!" Shaking off his hand, she ran through the house to the front door. "I'm sorry," she mumbled as she yanked the door open. "I'm sorry."

* * *

By the time Will buttoned up his pants and made it to the front door, she was peeling out of the driveway in a shower of gravel. Maybe she needed some time to think things through.

When she didn't call or come by the next day, he tried to reach her on her cellphone. There was one ring and then her voicemail. After three of these unsuccessful attempts over the course of the next two days, he left her a voicemail.

"Queenie, we need to talk. You need to tell me what got into you, honey. What made you bolt away like that? I don't like the way things sit. Call me."

She didn't reply. He tried again the next day and the next, but she didn't pick up and he didn't leave her another message.

It looked like he'd have to do something more active to find out what was going on with the temperamental woman, but construction was finishing up in the southwest corner of his ranch, where the pipe was being laid for getting river water to his bass pond.

He gave the project a final inspection, finally signing off on the work. Water was flowing smoothly into the dug-out basin. By the following week, he could start a bass seeding program that would yield him some mighty good dinners in a reasonably short period of time.

As he stood by the pond site, watching the water pour in, he thought about the animal killings on his ranch and wondered at the fact that they'd stopped suddenly. Maybe the culprit had lost interest, as the sheriff seemed to assume, or maybe not. Will still wanted to find the person or persons who did the damage, but it had been given lower priority over getting his ranch projects moving along and trying to reach Queenie.

While he was thinking of it, he tried to reach her again, but got her voicemail. He resolved to go over to Journey's End the next day and confront her. If she didn't want to see him anymore—which seemed likely—Will wanted to know. It was only right and fair for her to tell him directly and put a reason to it. Over the phone was a cowardly way, but he'd have accepted that much better than no information at all.

It hurt his pride that she was rejecting him, but there was also an emotional ache related to it that was unwelcome. If they couldn't work things out, then he wanted it over, finally and without doubt. Ending things would not have been his choice. He would have liked to continue on building a relationship, enjoying each other's company and spirited banter. Maybe they could have found something durable together.

That she was being so difficult made him want to spank her silly. But, of course, he couldn't make her want him. It would be unreasonable to try to force her into that mold; the kind of behavior Leo Journey had warned him about. Queenie should not be broken.

Maybe he could deal with whatever her issue was, though, and they could start over again. He had to try.