Dangerous Behavior, Part Three

Hey Spanky Friends!

Yesterday was amazing here in the SF Bay Area. It was 75 degrees! Warm, sunny, flowers are blooming, birds were singing. I took a nice hike and got a spectacular view of San Francisco and the entire bay. The water was blue and there was no smog. Astounding. I even got over-heated! And wished I’d put on more sunscreen. It was winter about two seconds ago. Like last week, it was raining and 45 degrees. So weird, but so nice.

My only problem came afterwards. I sat in my yard in the sun and enjoyed a beer with my hubby. Well, he was sick, so I had the beer. But then another beer seemed to disappear. When I threw out the third bottle, I went: “I didn’t have three, did I?” No, I couldn’t have. So I had some port. And now I’m sitting here feeling really stupid. Not a big hangover, but enough of one that I feel it. I hate feeling it the next day. Stupid nice day. Stupid tasty beer. Stupid tasty port.

And today looks like an even better day! But I think I’ll have iced tea after my walk…

Okay, onto the story, soon to be found in a new upcoming collection of mine called: Untitled! Wow! What a catchy title! Where did I come up with that??? I’m so talented, sometimes I scare myself.

Have a great weekend!

Michelle


Beverly had just taken her first sip of coffee and bite of scone when Detective Mitch Montgomery sat down opposite her, his jaw set, his anger lines deep, his pale blue eyes threatening.

“What do you want?” she sneered.

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not, you’re playing them all by yourself.”

“Where did you go?”

“On a pleasure ride.”

“We need to talk somewhere private. I pick your house.”

“You can pick it all you want. As far as I’m concerned, either arrest me or leave me the hell alone.”

“This isn’t a joke. The man you’re after is too dangerous. You’re going to get hurt.”

“And why would you care?”

“I’m not interested in another murder case. Not in my town.”

“Oh, so now you own the town. Interesting. Good day, Detective.”

“Don’t brush me off.”

She crammed the scone in her mouth and washed it down with the coffee. Ignoring him, she got up, left, hopped on her scooter and was gone.


She parked her scooter in her garage, walked outside and there was the irritating detective, parked in her driveway, leaning against his car.

She ignored him and walked into her house. She went to close the door and he stuck his foot inside.

“May I come in? Thank you,” he said, pushing his way inside.

“You get out! I’ll—”

“What? Call the cops? I’m already here.”

“You are one smug son—”

He held up an enormous hand. Where had he been hiding those? They were gigantic. “Ah, ah, no name calling.”

He had her house and her sized up in under thirty seconds. One sweep of her living room with his detective gaze told him everything he wanted to know about her. At least, this is what she surmised by the way he took in her and her home. And by the way he regarded her right afterwards.

“Nice house,” he said with a satisfied nod.

“Please leave.”

“But I only just got here,” he drawled. Towering over her, he stood even closer to her and gazed down at her. “You, honey, need to get your priorities straight. And stop playing games with me. When I tell you to stop, you stop.”

“Oh, please. Just because it was fun to lose you guys doesn’t mean I was doing anything.”

“Now you’re lying to me. I guess I need to make my warning a bit stronger.”

He reached out, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into her living room.

“Hey you, stop, what the hell do you think—”

He sat down, pulled her across his lap and pinned her there.

“You let go of me! Are you insane! I’ll have your badge for this!”

“You just don’t learn, do you?” She felt a tremendous impact to her behind; she was thrown forward, his massive, hard thighs dug painfully into her hips.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

A hellacious swat to her rear threw her forward again; the pain was incredible.

“For an investigative journalist, you don’t catch on very quickly, do you?” He powered into her behind with a blazing rhythm. The pain took her breath away.

All at once, the situation dawned on her. The man was actually spanking her. This big caveman jerkoff was spanking her! Her brain detonated.

She let out torrent of bad words; a near stream-of-consciousness swear-attack. She’d never let loose like that before. It felt good.

But what happened afterwards sure as hell didn’t. The man incinerated her behind with series upon series of furious spanks.

“I’ve got bar of soap with your name on it, if you keep up like that,” he warned, his tone low and angry.

He assaulted her butt with a spanking to end all spankings. Up and down his large hand traveled, covering every bit of her now scorching behind. For a finale, he fired into her sit spots with seemingly everything he had. She bellowed so loudly, her ears rang.

All at once, he stopped, got up and yanked her to her feet. He pushed her up against the living room wall and pinned her there.

“You will stop all your BS, lady, or I swear I’ll be back and I won’t be so nice the next time. You will stop your investigation. If some source comes to you with information, you will bring it to me. You will take another case and let us handle this investigation into your friends. You hear me, girl? I’m not playing around. You’re too valuable to this community to put yourself in such danger.”

“I hate you!” was the only comeback she could think of.

“I wish I hated you,” he said cryptically.

When she opened her mouth to yell at him, he kissed her.

Rage welled up inside her, she tried to push him away, his kiss deepened. She yelled into his mouth, hating him, hating his power over her, hating everything about him. She would spit on him when he stopped. Get him fired. Kick him in the balls.

After her twentieth plan of revenge, she realized she was kissing him back. A second after that, she got sucked whole into a giant vortex of lust. His scent was intoxicating, what he was doing with his tongue was sinful. She melted against the wall, her knees wobbly, her sex wet with want. She twirled her tongue with his strong one, but the man was the clear leader in their duel. He tasted so good, he was so strong, so masculine, such a turn-on. This guy was all man.

©2007, Michelle Carlyle