Twenty-nine years old and still without a husband, Maggie Swift does her best to be happy living on the family ranch. Now that her brothers are both married, however, she cannot help but feel she is being pushed out of her own home by her sisters-in-law… especially Libby. Her brother does his best to keep his bride in line—often with a firm hand applied to her bare bottom—but Maggie cannot seem to reconcile with the beautiful, feisty shopkeepers-daughter.
She has all but resigned herself to miserable spinsterhood, until an absentminded stroll through town leaves her standing unexpectedly in front of a rough-looking saloon. It is there that she is confronted and scolded by the imposing, ruggedly-handsome Clayborn Callahan. Offered a ride with him, Maggie accepts, promising that she will not be missed for a few hours though she knows her brothers will be worried sick.
When her lie is found out, Maggie discovers that her new suitor is more than ready to take her out back and make her cut a switch. In spite of her sore bottom, Maggie feels something for Clayborn that she has never felt for any man, and she is excited when he asks to come calling again. She wonders, though, if she can be the well-behaved woman he expects, or whether she will find herself over his knee more often than her pride and her tender bottom can handle.
Author: Dinah McLeod
Word Count: 35,500 words
eBook Price: $3.95
I began to slide her drawers down. She stiffened under my touch. “Hold still, now,” I warned.
“Wes! What if they come back in?”
I chuckled at her gasp. “I suppose they’ll see me tanning your hide. ‘Course, if you’d stop all your bickering, we could get this over with, and there’d be less chance of it.”
Her body tensed on my lap, but she nodded her agreement. As soon as I saw her head bob up and down, I brought my hand down sharply on each of her pale white globes. The sight of her splayed like this normally set my heart to thumping hard and made my trousers uncomfortably tight. My wife was such a tiny thing; her shoulders were so femininely delicate, and her waist so tiny. Right at the end of her waist was the bottom that had come to know my hand quite well; I’d always marveled at the fact that, in spite of her being such a slip of a woman, her cheeks were so plump and perfectly rounded. Though I’d never admit it unless she asked, I loved watching those cheeks turn bright red. Luckily for me, my headstrong wife always gave me plenty of reason to do just that.
I continued to deliver slow, stinging slaps to her behind, watching the hues change from cream to pink. Libby clenched my knee each time her bottom was swatted, but didn’t let out so much as a snivel. I knew she was worried about being overheard, but it just wouldn’t do to have her sit through a spanking without crying a little. If she could, it would mean I wasn’t doing my job. With that in mind, I drew my hand back, raising it high, and brought it down swiftly on her left cheek. I could tell by her gasp that she felt it more than any of the others. Two beats later, I did the same for the right. On it went, until my wife lay sobbing over my lap.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, and I helped her to her feet. “It won’t happen again, Wesley.”
“Oh, I suspect it won’t,” I said, wiping her tears and bringing her hand to my lips. “Go fetch your hairbrush, now.”
The words inspired terror in her face. “My…”
“Your hairbrush, darlin’.”
“But… but why?”
I grinned at her. “I thought that was obvious.”
“You’ve already spanked me,” she said, somewhere between a whimper and a whine.
“We’re not even halfway there yet,” I told her, my eyes stern. “Now hurry and do as I say.”