Under His Roof (9 page)

“You’re close to your family?”

“Very. What about you?”

“Kind of. My mom and I chat on the phone sometimes.” I shrug, kicking the grass a little. “And I have an older sister.”

“Do they live in town?”

“No. My mom lives in Kentucky. My sister is in New York.”

“Wow. Pretty spread out. You miss ‘em?”

I pause, thinking about the last conversation with my mom in which she warned me that if I wasn’t married soon, I wouldn’t be able to have children. “No. Not really. I guess we aren’t close.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He stops walking and I look up and see we’re close to the fence. Near the ground there's a little hole in the chain link.

“That’s Sparky’s door?” I ask.

“Sure is. His door to freedom. Doesn’t use it much anymore.” And before I know it David is pulling me to him, embracing me, and kissing me. Oh, wow, he’s kissing me! His tongue explores my mouth with such urgency that all I can do is let him, and he's holding me so tight. I never want him to let go.

When he breaks away we stare at each other, both slightly stunned.

“That was better than I expected,” he finally says.

“What did you expect it to be like?”

“Really fucking amazing.”

I trail my hand along his chest and I can feel his heartbeat. “It was better than really fucking amazing, then?”

He nods. “Worlds better.”

We’re quiet on the way back to his house but now we’re in the same world, sharing the same mental space. Or, at least that’s how I feel. He picks up our salad fixings and we walk inside and he reminds me about the no-shoe rule as he kicks off his shoes.

“You keep a clean home,” I say. I’m observing his house for the first time, because the last time I was here I was too nervous to actually see my surroundings. To the side of the door is his living space, with a couch and an easy chair. Sparky is sleeping on a rug beside the fireplace. It’s all very homey and I can’t help but think his house is more fit for a family than a bachelor.

“Bought this place from my parents,” he says, reading my mind. “They wanted something smaller when all the kids moved out. I couldn't let them sell it to a stranger.”

We go to the kitchen and I look over the counter to the dining room table where we had our ‘session discussion’. I swallow hard.

David’s following my gaze and he’s grinning. “Don’t worry. No spanking tonight.”

I cock my head to the side and try my best to look coy. “Oh? You sure about that?” I reach over to smack his behind but he catches my wrist before I can make contact.

“Fairly,” he says, pulling me in for another kiss. “Unless you do something to deserve one.”

I want him to kiss me all night, it feels so good. He slides a hand up my torso, almost reaching my breasts and I moan into his mouth. When he starts to break away I want to plead with him to keep going but he nibbles my lower lip, kisses my nose, and lets me go.

“All right, what would you like to eat tonight?” he asks.

I don’t feel hungry for anything but him. “What’s easy?”

“Thought we could do some grillin’. I’ve got salmon or steak, which do you prefer?”

Now my mouth is watering. “I’d love salmon.”

“Fish it is, then. Want to work on the salad?”

It feel so normal to work beside him, tearing lettuce and washing the tomatoes. Normal, as if David isn't a professional disciplinarian who spanks women for a living. But my mind keeps reminding me that the guy beside me spanked me to tears and every few minutes I stop and take a breath, centering myself.

“So tell me about your drunk client,” he says as he squeezes a lemon over the salmon. A small stray drop of lemon juice hits my arm and David uses his index finger to whisk it off my skin. God, his touch is electric.

“Oh, Mr. Gunderson? Yeah. He’s a trip.”

“I made a bet with my sister that you were on a date.”

“With him? No way.” I decide not to share that I thought David and his sister had been on a date, too.

“And so the flirting? Is that just something you do for fun?”

He’s giving me a sideways glance and his eyes are stern like they were before my session. I turn my concentration to the tomatoes, which I’m slicing into rounds. “Something that’s part of the trade. You know?”

“I don’t.”

“It’s just… something that I have to do with clients like him. It makes everything go smoothly.”

“It isn’t professional.”

“Excuse me? How would you know?”

“I would just prefer that you not flirt like that.”

“Well, that’s not for you to decide.”

“Not yet.” He turns away puts the seasoned salmon into the refrigerator.

Not yet?
What the hell does that mean?

“I’m going to go get the grill started. Be right back.” He pats me on the butt gently before he leaves the room and I stare at his back as he walks outside.

I’m beginning to have doubts about David but the electricity I feel from him is so strong it keeps me from running away. I search for a bowl and find a ceramic blue salad dish that is perfect, and I give the ingredients a quick toss. He’s back just as I finish and he takes the salad from me and sets it in the fridge.

“Let’s go have a chat while we wait for the grill to heat up,” he says. He takes my hand and I’m afraid we’re going to sit in the dining room but he pulls me outside to the back porch. We sit on Adirondack chairs and I set my wine glass on the armrest and relax. The air is getting cooler and it feels good to be outside.

“Tell me why you haven’t scheduled another session,” he says.

My butt cheeks clench instinctively and I squirm a little at the intrusive question. “Don’t know. I guess I didn’t feel like I needed one.”

“But the first session helped?”

“Immeasurably.”

“Getting along better with your friends?”

“Yeah. Much.”

“And your colleagues?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And your colleagues?” he presses.

“I get along fine with them.”

“Just fine?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“What about your secretary?”

I spin to face him directly and almost laugh at the twinkle in his eye. “She’s a huge pain in the ass. I don’t expect myself to get along with her.”

“Well, I’d like to give you another session tomorrow.”

Whoa
. Thoughts fly through my brain so fast I can barely keep track of them.

David wants to spank me tomorrow. Which might mean he wants me to spend the night. Oh my god David wants me to spend the night!

Are we going to have sex? I’m so glad I shaved.

Fuck! He wants to spank me again! And for what?

That final thought sticks and I voice it. “For what?”

“Discipline, Rachel. You need it.”

“But I—”

“Shh,” he says, interrupting my protests. “Listen, you’re a very successful woman in a very dominant role at work. Tell me you didn’t feel just a tiny bit relieved when I took you over my knee?”

I look down at my hands which I see I’ve clenched together. Slowly, I loosen my grasp and will myself to relax. “A tiny bit,” I admit.

“So, give it another shot.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” He’s got that twinkle in his eye again. “If you’re still here, that is.”

“Well that’s assuming an awful lot.”

“Is it?” He gets up and lifts the lid of the grill, feeling the air above it with his hand. “Ready to go!”

David goes inside to get the fish, along with skewers of onions, mushrooms, and peppers. He grills everything like a pro, and I sit and admire him while he works. The smell of the fish cooking is heavenly. It’s been ages since I’ve had salmon.

“I think I like you a lot, Rachel,” he says casually as he hands me a plate.

I blush at his admission of his feelings and wish I could voice my own feelings with such ease. “Thanks,” I say instead.

But he’s smiling, still, not deterred. “And do you think you might like me?” he asks. He pops a grilled mushroom into his mouth. “Oh, that’s the stuff! You’re gonna love this food.”

“I think I might like you,” I whisper.

“Good. Eat up, before it gets cold.”

So we eat, with our plates on our laps, and the conversation turns back to something resembling normalcy. He’s definitely a family guy and talks up his brothers and sister like they’re the best people in the universe. When he speaks of them his face lights up and I can see he’s so proud of them all. I’m jealous, in a strange way. My mother and sister and I have none of this closeness David’s family seems to share.

“Do they know what you do?” I ask.

“Marilyn does. To the rest, I’m a life coach.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

He nods thoughtfully, then sets down his plate. Sparky looks at him eagerly but David shakes his head and says, “No, Sparky.” Then he turns to me. “I want to speak with you about something.”

His tone is grave and I wonder if he’s about to boot me out the door. Has he had a change of heart? Wasn’t he telling me just minutes before that he likes me? I nod, mid-bite, and wait for him to continue but he’s slow about it like he doesn’t really want to talk.

“Listen, there’s something you need to know about me,” he finally says.

Serial killer? Rapist? Thief?
I swallow my bite of salmon and mushroom and say, “Go on.”

“I’m interested in a very specific arrangement with any potential girlfriends,” he says. “And I want you to listen to my requirements very carefully. After I’m through, you can ask questions. If you need to, you’re always free to go. All right?”

“Um. All right.” Now I’m more nervous than ever. I stop eating and carefully place my fork on my plate.

“Well, you know my profession, Rachel. I’d like to tell you why I chose to be a professional disciplinarian.”

“Please, do.” I’d been wondering this anyway.

“When I was in college, I settled into a relationship with a classmate. She was sweet and I thought I loved her, and we ended up dating for nearly a year. She introduced me to spanking. At first, she just asked me to spank her a little before sex. It was mostly erotic. But one day, after she slept through an exam, she came to me in tears. She asked me to punish her.”

I feel blood rush to my face. The subject of spanking will never be easy for me to casually discuss.

He continues. “When you came to me for discipline, I gave it to you because it was what you asked for. My girlfriend never, with the exception of that first time, asked for it. I spanked her liberally when I thought she needed it. For bad grades, for turning in late assignments, for drinking too much, and for being disrespectful or moody. She submitted to discipline and punishments from me on a regular basis.

“We broke up when we both saw our lives going in different directions. Since her I’ve had a few other relationships. I’ve never brought up spanking and discipline as a part of those relationships, and it’s never been the same. So, when things got rocky with my last girlfriend, I mentioned that I prefer to have the upper hand in the relationship.”

“And what happened?”

“She dumped me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” David is staring at his hands and I see pain in his face, like he’s hating this conversation as much as I am. “I guess you can see why I am bringing this up right away. I don’t want to start something with you if you’re not OK with my needs.”

He’s looking at me now, expectantly, and I’ve no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to say. Or do. Should I run for the door? Should I hug him?

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally manage to tell him. Not that it’s helpful.

“Well, let me explain more. I see something in you, Rachel. When you came in for your session, I felt your relief when you submitted to the spanking. You were a natural. That’s why I was so surprised that you didn’t immediately schedule another appointment.”

There’s a lump in my throat and I swallow hard. “I didn’t think it would be appropriate,” I whisper.

“Because you felt something for me?”

I nod and make myself look at him. He’s smiling, and he reaches over and puts his hand on mine.

“When I’m in a relationship with someone, which I feel I could potentially have with you, I need to know I’m in charge. I need you to allow me to lead.”

“Lead?”

“You’re a leader at work, right?”

He’s changing the subject and I find this irritating. “Of course.”

“And you love your job?”

“I’m good at my job. I wouldn’t call it love.”

“I think for some women, it’s nice to be able to come home and not be in charge.”

“You want to be in charge?”

“I am in charge.” He says this as though it’s a simple fact, not a world-changing point of view.

“So you’re saying, you just get to spank me. Whenever you want.”

“I would never punish you or discipline you without a reason.”

I laugh loudly, my nerves giving way to this ridiculousness. “Right.”

“But we’ll ease into it. OK?”

“I don’t even know what you’re asking me.”

“I’m asking you to date me.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know you.”

Frowning, I take a sip of my wine but realize my glass is empty. David notices this and jumps up to refill it.

“Tell me that you’ll try it,” he says, sitting back down in his chair.

“We’ve kissed
twice
, David. Hardly enough for me to say, ‘Sure, let’s go
steady.’
”

It is David’s turn to frown and he looks slightly embarrassed. “I know. It’s just that I need to tell you where I’m at before we move further. Before we move anywhere at all. Do you think you can let me be in charge? Can you try it?”

I sit back and stare out into his enormous backyard. Sparky has found his spot near us and is sleeping. He’s moving his legs ever so slightly, and almost baring his teeth, so I can tell he is dreaming of running for prey. A breeze moves past us and I shiver a little.

Can I try it? I think I can. As strange as it is to think about giving up control, the idea is appealing. I barely know David, but I feel like I trust him.

“Maybe,” I whisper. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to warm up.