Everyone in town knows that sparks of attraction have been flying between Tessa Anderson and Chance Williams almost from the moment her nursery business brought her to beautiful Hope Junction, Wyoming, but it takes an actual fire to really get things moving. When a blaze breaks out in Tessa’s kitchen, it is Chance—a volunteer firefighter—who rushes to the scene.
He asks her out the very next day, but she is shocked by his threat to spank her if it turns out the fire was caused by her carelessness. Nonetheless, Tessa can’t help pushing Chance to see if he would truly spank her, and before she knows it the firm-handed rancher takes her over his knee for a lesson she won’t soon forget. Yet despite his bossy ways, Tessa soon begins to realize that Chance might well be the man she’s been waiting for her whole life, and though it is hard for her to admit, the promise of a sore bottom when she misbehaves arouses her deeply.
But someone apparently has a problem with Tessa’s presence in Hope Junction, and the kitchen fire is followed up by one mysterious incident after another. Tessa keeps these occurrences secret from Chance, believing she can take care of herself. When the truth eventually comes to light, Tessa soon learns that Chance takes her safety very seriously and a bare-bottom spanking is only the beginning of the thorough, humiliating punishment she faces for her subterfuge. Will Chance’s decision to take her in hand so forcefully tear them apart, or will Tessa see his discipline as proof of the love they will share for the rest of their lives?
Author: Helen Karol
eBook Price: $4.95
Length: 73,400 words
Chance straightened, a determined green blaze in his eyes, steel in his tone. “You sure know how to live up to those flame-colored tresses of yours, missy. That’s quite an attitude you have on you. One that’s earned you a sore spanking that’s gonna leave that beautiful backside of yours a lot redder than your hair.”
Despite all her pushing, the surreal nature of what was happening astonished Tessa when he reached out and, with one swift motion, turned her over his knee. Stunned, she didn’t fight him. Instead, she steadied herself with one hand on his lower thigh. Keeping her in place with his arm cinched in a firm hold around her waist, he angled her body so she was supported by the couch. Telling herself dignified disdain was her best route, she buried her burning face in its soft, worn leather. Now that he was actually following through with his threat, she’d no intention of gracing his caveman tactics with a reaction.
Until the first smack landed.
Even through her jeans it burned atrociously. Chance was clearly intent on getting his message across. He systematically brought his large hand down hard, covering the middle of each cheek with a fiery smack. Rhythmically alternating backwards and forwards between both buttocks, he laid on the tanning to her jeans he’d promised. A tanning that had her twisting and turning on his knees trying to avoid it. Not that it helped much. Chance just followed her movements, spanking relentlessly, keeping up the tempo and force of his blows with each of her frantic, alternating shifts across his muscled thighs.
She was soon yelping and throwing her hand back in a dual attempt to protect her bottom and stop his blows. He didn’t even break stride, simply blocking her movements with one hand while the other raised such a fire in her butt it was all she could do not to blubber like a little girl. All her bravado left her and she was mortified to hear her own voice howling and pleading for him to stop. “Oww! Ouch! Oh, it hurts! How can a spanking hurt so much? Stop, Chance, stop!”
Ignoring her pleas, he changed his pattern, spanking her thoroughly across her whole bottom randomly again and again. Lifting one thigh, he upended her even more so he could pay plenty of attention to her tender sit spots at the underside of her buttocks. Finally his hand stilled. He rubbed the base of her back and then righted her to sit on his knees. She tried to scramble off, but he held her fast. “No, you don’t, missy. We’re not done yet.” Taking her chin in his hands, he asked her firmly, “You want me to stop? For your spanking to be over? Is that it, Therese Marie?”
Rubbing her abused cheeks, she glared at him mutinously. “How can you do this to me? You hardly know me. You have no right.” Now she was no longer in the humiliating position across his knee and his hard hand was no longer burning her butt, her bravado foolishly returned.
“Wrong answer, babe.” To her horror, he turned her back face down over his knees in the opposite direction, resuming the spanking. In this position, from a new angle and with his other hand, he seemed to find new spots to spank and redden, as well as reviving the burn of his previous smacking. Unlike the last bout, when he spanked without speaking, this time he lectured.
“No right, huh?” Smack. Smack. “Let me tell you about rights.” Crack. “Not.” Smack. “Only.” Smack. “Do I have the right.” Smack. “I’ve the responsibility.” Smack. Crack. “Even if there weren’t strong feelings between us and I didn’t have serious intentions toward you, which there are…” Crack. “…and I do.” Smack.
He stopped for a few moments while Tessa lay across his knees, squirming at the furious sting in her backside, kicking her legs, bucking, yelping, and whimpering, any attempts at maintaining dignity long abandoned. Jeez. Who’d believe it! All those weeks of seemingly ignoring her while she crushed on him and now, less than a day after finally getting to know her, not only was he spanking her, but he was declaring the intensity of their feelings and the seriousness of his intentions while doing it!