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  He squatted before her and studied her face. "How are you feeling? Do you feel like you might faint again?" He placed the back of his hand to her cheek, then her forehead. "You have some color back, at least."

  She nodded and tried to stand up, only to be shoved gently back down by Sawyer. "You aren't going anywhere. Sit down and stay that way. I'm going to go clean up."

  Rebecca watched him head toward the back room and felt a sense of relief to have a break from his disapproving eyes. She repositioned her body so the plastic on her tattoo wasn't pressing up against the back of the couch. Why hadn't she eaten something? Passing out on the tattoo chair was about as amateur as you could get.

  About twenty minutes later, Sawyer came back into the lobby, and she was feeling much better.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked. He didn't seem quite so annoyed now. Still concerned, but he didn't seem to be simmering anymore.

  "I'm good. The ringing in my ears has stopped, and my head feels normal again."

  "I have half a mind to spank you for not listening to me," he said with a stern glare.

  "What?" Was he joking? Looking at him, it didn't appear so. He sort of reminded her of Caine when he got fired up.

  "You heard me." His stare never wavered in the slightest.

  She swallowed hard, not sure what to say or how to process what he said. If she was being honest with herself, her pussy just pulsed and tingled with the threat.

  "Someone sure as hell needs to," he went on.

  "Yeah, well, there is no one in my life up to the job," she murmured. The harsh reality—that she would be going home to an empty apartment without anyone caring if she'd almost fainted today or not—set in. Having an alpha male to protect and care about her sounded pretty damn good right now. As crazy as it seemed, there was a part of her that wanted to have a man who would punish her for not putting her health first.

  Sawyer crossed his arms against his chest and repositioned his weight. "Then I guess I just got elected."

  "To spank me?" she asked. Why was she not appalled by the idea?

  "Yes," he stated simply. "But I need to hear your consent. I want to hear you say the words."

  Okay, she was going to let him spank her. Was she letting him? Or would he regardless? No… he wanted consent. She had the control—for now. She took a deep breath as she readied herself for the first step. Oh dear lord.

  "I may soon regret this, and I may be insane, but yes. I would like for you to—you know—well, you know what I'm trying to say." She couldn't say the word 'spank'. If she did, she was positive she would start giggling right then and there.

  "So you agree that you deserve a spanking?" Was he smirking? And why could he say the word and not laugh out loud?

  "Deserve?" Does a grown woman ever really deserve a spanking?

  He nodded. "Yes, deserve. Why do you think I should spank you? Why did you just agree?"

  "Well…" She paused, and seriously thought about those words. Did she deserve a spanking? Sure, he had told her to eat and bring a snack. He'd stressed for her not to forget, and had even sent a text on the morning of the tattoo as a reminder. She'd chosen to ignore his warnings completely, and she couldn't drive home right away. It now put him out, having to babysit her, so she had messed up. She'd acted irresponsibly, she hadn't taken her safety or health into consideration, and she was imposing on Sawyer. Was that all deserving of a spanking? Maybe. "I don't know."

  She looked down at the ground and attempted to will the embarrassment away. No doubt her face was beet red right now. Being a true redhead definitely had its disadvantages sometimes. There was no way to hide it when she blushed. Did they really have to talk about it? Couldn't they just get this over with, and she could finally see what all the fuss was about?

  Sawyer walked across the room, grabbed a simple wooden chair and carried it over. He placed it in front of where she was sitting, and lowered himself into the chair without saying a word. He leaned forward and grabbed her chin with the tip of his finger, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  She locked her stare with his and found herself lost in his gaze. His eyes… Jesus, his eyes.

  "I'm not into playing little spanking games, Rebecca." He still held her chin so she couldn't look away. "This is real to me."

  "I understand that." She swallowed back the nerves as her voice shook with her words.

  "I don't make a habit of spanking my clients for not listening." Was he second-guessing this? She couldn't read his expression, although his eyes never left hers. "I need to know why you would agree."

  She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her chin and wouldn't allow it. "I guess I'm curious," she said, barely above a whisper. "When you suggested it, even if you were joking, the idea didn't repulse me like it has in the past. I sort of, well, I… sort of… was intrigued by the idea." Never before in her life had she been so honest. What was it about Sawyer that just pulled that confession out of her?

  He sat back, crossed his arms against his chest and studied her in silence. His eyes narrowed a bit and his jaw was clenched. Rebecca didn't look away—even though there was a part of her, the sane and rational part, that wanted to. But she knew she needed to convince him that she was going to take this seriously. She knew enough about Domestic Discipline from her friends to know that this sort of thing wasn't taken lightly.

  "I don't usually spank people I'm not dating." His eyes narrowed even more and he licked his lips. He clearly was pondering the idea. A long moment of silence lingered between them, as though he was waiting for a response. But what was she supposed to say to that? He took a deep breath and patted his lap. "Come here."

  Oh God. Was this it? Her stomach flipped, and she suddenly had to go pee.

  He gave the command once more when she didn't move; this time with more conviction. "Come here."

  She took a deep breath and stood up. She lay across his lap, feeling awkward and clumsy. Should she rest all her weight on him? Feeling too heavy, she tried her best to rest as much weight on the tips of her toes as she could, but the position made it difficult. Sawyer silently answered that question for her when he repositioned her body so her bottom was more upturned, and there was no way she could hold herself up anymore. At that very moment, she was one hundred percent on his lap.

  "I normally always spank a bare behind, but considering the circumstances, I will allow you to keep your panties on." He pulled down her yoga pants, and the cool air against the flesh of her thighs and butt cheeks stunned her.

  Rebecca's mind raced to remember what panties she had on. Were they pretty? Old? She hadn't been planning for this! If she remembered correctly, they were…

  Oh, shoot me now.

  She was wearing her green panties that were covered in little shamrocks. The words 'lucky' were written across the globes of her ass. It wasn't even close to St. Patrick's Day. As she stared at the ink-stained concrete mere inches from her nose, she realized that this wasn't exactly a sexy fantasy, or something her friend Coley could write about in one of her books. She was over her tattoo artist's lap, wearing old St. Patrick's Day underwear, and she still had to pee.

  "Lucky, huh? I don't think your ass is going to feel very lucky when I'm through with you." He chuckled lightly, causing her body to jiggle with his.

  "Ha, ha, very funny," she replied, and rolled her eyes. How did she get herself in this situation?

  Wasting no time, he landed a searing swat on her backside. "I don't think you are in a position to have a sassy attitude with me, young lady."

  Woah, what the hell was that? Before she could even process the swat and his stern voice, another slap landed on her ass, and then another. The spanking continued in a rapid succession, and Rebecca hadn't even taken a breath yet.

  Her mind drowned in thoughts and questions. Did it hurt? Was she supposed to cry and plead? Was she supposed to make cute little sexy noises? Was she supposed to put up resistance? Was she too heavy for his lap? How bad did her shamrock pant
ies look?

  Those thoughts didn't last long as the spanking continued. This was no joke. His hand came down over, and over, and over again. With each spank, the intensity increased. With each swat, the burn intensified.

  Does it hurt? Yes!

  Am I going to cry and plead? Maybe, just maybe.

  Am I supposed to make sexy noises? She didn't care anymore, as her ass caught on fire.

  Am I supposed to put up resistance? Her body had a mind of its own as she tried to block the spanking with her hand, only to have Sawyer pin it behind her lower back.

  Am I too heavy for his lap? She sure hoped so. Maybe he would end this spanking much sooner.

  How bad do my leprechaun panties look? Who gave a fuck? They were her only saving grace at the moment.

  "I think it's about time someone took you in hand," he began to lecture her. "You need someone to show you they care. You need someone to show you that you matter." His spanking increased in severity—if that was possible. "And I will gladly be that person and teach you this lesson. You." Smack. "Will." Smack. "Put." Smack. "Your." Smack. "Health." Smack. "And." Smack. "Safety." Smack. "First!" Smack.

  "Yes! Yes! I will," she cried out, kicking her legs up and down in protest to her very first spanking ever.

  "From this moment on." The spanking continued. "If I ever feel you are putting yourself at risk, I will personally pull you over my knee and blister this behind. Are we clear?" He didn't let up on the spanking at all.

  "Yes!" Sweat beaded her brow and lip. "I definitely get your point," she squealed, as a few swats landed on her upper thighs.

  Just as she was about to beg for mercy, he stopped. He gently ran his hand over her behind, offering some, but very little, comfort. Rebecca took the few moments to try to regain her breathing and composure—even as she lay across the lap of a man she barely knew.

  After a few more caresses of her panty-clad bottom, Sawyer assisted her up to sit on his lap. He pulled her into an embrace. Although the act seemed foreign, at the same time, it felt so very right. After what had just occurred, she needed his affection and warm embrace. She almost melted into him as he began to stroke her hair and run his hands gingerly down her spine, reminding her of the tattoo she had just been given by him. She could have sat like that for days. His natural smell, not masked with cologne, permeated her nose. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, relishing in the man who'd just opened her eyes.

  What exactly had happened, she didn't know. What her feelings were, she had no idea. All she knew was she had just been spanked for the first time in her life, and as much as it had stung like a son-of-a-bitch, she'd liked it—a lot.

  Chapter Seven

  Squatting in the flowerbed in Neely's backyard, Rebecca had just finished spilling her guts about her last tattoo session with Sawyer. Even though she'd left out the spanking part, she admitted to having a connection of some sort, and confessed that things had got 'heated'. But actually admitting to the fact that she'd been spanked yesterday just seemed bizarre. She couldn't believe it had happened herself. When Sawyer was done spanking her, she'd gathered her stuff, thanked him for the tattoo, apologized for fainting, and left. He had just spanked her bottom, and she'd hastily left! It seemed like he was going to try and stop her, but she didn't give him the chance as she bolted out the door.

  She needed to talk to someone, and try to process the crazy bundle of emotions going through her. If anyone would understand, it would be Neely. And in turn, Neely benefited from some free manual labor, helping with weeding her garden.

  "So, you're not going to see him again? Just like that?" Neely always did get straight to the point when she asked questions. As much as it was a pain in the ass sometimes, Rebecca had to admit she appreciated her friend being so forthcoming.

  "Not until I get more work done on the tattoo. I have at least two more weeks of healing." She shrugged her shoulders and continued to pull at the weeds, grateful that she didn't have to make eye contact.

  "And that's all it was? Just a momentary connection of some sort while getting a tattoo?"

  "What are you getting at?"

  Neely sighed, sat back on her haunches and dusted the dirt off of her hands. "You aren't fooling anyone, especially me. I know there is more, and you are just too damn stubborn to admit it."

  Rebecca stopped weeding and turned to look at her friend. "Does it matter if there was? Sure, the fantasy of Sawyer is exciting, but the reality is just… well, it would just never work."

  "Why? Because he's a tattoo artist? Because he's covered in head to toe tattoos? So what if he isn't your usual type."

  "That's not it at all." Rebecca sighed. "He's friends with Caine, remember?"

  Neely raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "So? I'm not understanding what Caine has to do with this."

  "Sawyer believes in the same crazy things your husband does," she spat. Rebecca could feel the heat washing over her face just having to think about his beliefs, and the fact that he'd given her a firsthand taste of it.

  It was clear on Neely's face that the realization of what Rebecca had meant set in. She smiled and said, "Ah, I see. You are actually considering the fact that Sawyer spanks. I think you're picturing what it would be like." She laughed and stood up and dusted her knees off before reaching out her hand to help Rebecca up off the ground. "Come on, let's get something to drink and sit in the shade."

  Rebecca followed her to the table on the porch and sat down while Neely went inside to get refreshments. She hated the fact that she had to have this conversation. It embarrassed her to even have to discuss the 's' word, but at the same time, she needed to get this off her chest. And Neely was one of the few people who could understand.

  "It's too early for wine," Neely said, as she walked back outside with full hands. "So I found fixings for mimosas." She smiled and brandished the bottle of champagne in one hand. She began pouring the drinks, still laughing at her own thoughts.

  "So I have more of a confession," Rebecca blurted. "He actually spanked me after I fainted!"

  Neely froze on the spot, stunned into silence.

  "I don't know how it happened. Everything just went by in a blur. And then, when he was done, I just got my stuff and left. It was like nothing had happened!"

  Neely started to laugh as she sat down.

  Rebecca crossed her arms and pouted. "This isn't funny, Neely. I blame you. You're the one who told me I should use him to get my tattoo."

  "Oh, wait a minute. I didn't think you should have gotten the tattoo to begin with. But with that said, what's the big deal? So he believes in DD. Almost all of your friends do."

  "But I don't! There is no way in hell I would be in a relationship with someone who spanks me. No way."

  "Why?"

  Rebecca almost choked on the first sip of her drink. "Why? Are you really asking me that? You all act like getting your ass beat is normal. Just because you, Coley and even Kendall are into this… kink, doesn't mean it's not crazy. How am I the odd one in this situation?"

  "You have the right to your opinion and your choice. I just think you are so adamant that DD is insane, that you're being completely closed minded. Have you even tried to think of the positive sides to it? Have you even stopped for one second to wonder why it works for your friends? Why would your best friends choose to live this lifestyle if it was so awful?"

  "Because you have all lost your minds," Rebecca replied simply.

  "We are all in love," Neely countered. "Can you say the same?" She topped off the drinks with more champagne. "Listen, I'm not saying you have to believe in DD. I'm also not saying you have to consent to being spanked… again," she added with a giggle. "But I don't think you should be so fiercely opposed to it. And I also don't think you should let it get in the way of exploring things with Sawyer if you are really interested in him."

  "So, let's say I do consider trying things out with Sawyer. Would he accept the fact that I'm not into Domestic Discipline?" Rebecca asked.


  Neely paused for a moment and then frowned. "Most likely not. Especially if he already spanked you. I know it wasn't an option for Caine when we got together. He wasn't going to give up something he believed so strongly in." She paused again and studied Rebecca before continuing. "But that doesn't mean Sawyer wouldn't be up for discussing it with you. This lifestyle isn't a dictatorship. It's a loving agreement between a couple who wants a strong relationship. No two DD relationships are the same. If, and only if, you are open to the idea, you can set up rules and limits that you are comfortable with."

  "I thought the man makes the rules."

  Neely rolled her eyes. "Really? Do you think that I let Caine make all the rules? Come on."

  "Well isn't he the head of household? Isn't he the boss? Isn't he the king?"

  Neely giggled as she took another drink. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm not the queen."

  As if on cue, Caine walked outside and bent down to kiss his wife. "What are you two ladies up to? Getting into trouble?"

  Neely smiled and looked up at her husband. The look of love in her eyes was apparent as she said, "Join us."

  Caine chuckled and shook his head. "No way. I make it a point to stay away from girl talk."

  "Rebecca got spanked yesterday!" Neely told him.

  "Neely!" Rebecca squealed, covering her face with her hands.

  Caine chuckled and turned to walk away, only to have his wife grab his hand. "Please," Neely said. "I was trying to explain DD to Rebecca—again—and I would love your input. She's willing to walk away from a guy she is interested in only because he believes in DD."

  The rush of embarrassment heated Rebecca's face again. It was one thing having the talk about the 's' word with Neely, but with Caine? Any hope of getting out of this was crushed when Caine pulled up a chair next to Neely and wrapped his arm around her. She snuggled up closer to him and offered her glass for him to share.

  "So who's the guy?" Caine asked.

  "Her tattoo artist," Neely quickly answered.

  A single eyebrow rose on Caine's face along with a smirk of his lips. "Sawyer? You're interested in Sawyer?"