Speeding Toward A Spanking, Part Two

Hey Spanky Humans!

Okay, I’m crazed. My agent gave me a deadline of the end of the month on my latest vanilla novel and I’m nowhere near done with it. On top of that, a friend tapped me to perform in a reunion show for our old college theatre group. Add to that a million other things I have to get done in a short amount of time and I’m losing my mind. Hubby leaves me a note for more things to do this morning and I nearly killed him. Sheesh.

Someday, I will learn to wield the “no” word more effectively. The only thing I want to say yes to is my books. Forget everything else. But then I would have no friends and my life would be unbalanced. Oh, well. Modern living, I suppose.

So here’s the next chapter of Speeding Towards a Spanking, soon to be found in an upcoming release of mine called “Hanky Spanky.” That is if I can actually squeeze out some time to get the damn thing together. I need forty-eight hours in a day with no sleep and then I’d be good.

Hugs to you all,
Michelle

Lila smirked. “What Zane doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

“I never thought I’d see the day where a man would tame you.”

“And you still aren’t. I don’t lie to him, either. I just don’t mention what I’m doing.”

“Does it work?”

“So far… mostly.” Lila shuddered when she thought of the time that Zane caught her free-climbing the building after he’d forbade her to do it. Wow, he’s spanked her so hard, she’d had to sleep on her side for a week. The man was a tyrant.

“So what’s the attraction?” Bobby John asked. “Other than that whole rock god thing he has going on. And the fact that he’s rich and at the top of the charts lately.”

“He ain’t a star around our house. He’s just my husband. And the attraction is that he’s the nicest guy I’ve ever been with.”

“So what’s it like married to rock star?”

She laughed. “Our lives are just like anyone else’s except he gets all kinds of attention when we’re out. And the girls all glare at me. But no, he’s just a normal guy. We cook dinner, watch TV, screw our brains out, call out for take-out. You know. All the normal couple stuff. He’s no different than any of my other boyfriends except he’s way nicer, is successful—actually has a job—and treats me way better. But really, he’s just a man. Well, no, he’s just a big, giant man. Damn, he is so large. That part is taking some getting used to. He is just so massive; he takes up the whole bed, eats most of the food and takes up most of the couch. But… other than that, normal.”

“My illusions are shattered. I thought it was all partying and going to celebrity events and stuff.”

“I’m sure there will be some of that crap. The release party for his new album, but that’s just an office party with long-haired rocker people.”

Bobby John digested this. “Wow. So, when are you comin’ back here?”

Lila shook her head. “Hopefully soon. That was serious fun.”

“No problem. I still owe you some more hours for that shoot. Even though, this time, you got me a little worried on that last lap.”

“Sorry. It was just so fun, I had to pass that guy. I just had to.”

Bobby John flashed her a mouth of straight white teeth. “I know the feeling.”

Lila left the racetrack and checked the clock on her car. Damn, it was already two o’clock? Where had the freakin’ time gone? If she didn’t hurry, she was gonna hit some major traffic. As it was, it would take her two hours to get back to San Francisco. She had to get back before Zane noticed her missing. He’d said he would be super busy and not to expect to hear from him until he came home for dinner. She had to get home before he knew she’d left.

She did not want to lie to Zane. She figured that out early on. Lying meant getting really bad spankings. So she stopped lying to him. She just didn’t volunteer information. She was very careful about what she said to him. And today, she had to be extra careful about what she said when she saw him. She couldn’t slip.

Luckily, the traffic was no problem and she got back to San Francisco by three-thirty, a new record for her.

Lila had dinner just about ready when Zane walked in the door. Her heart stopped when she saw her overly handsome husband poke his head through the kitchen door. Tall as a Greek God, Zane was over six foot seven, had jet-black hair that went to his waist and amazing green eyes. From the carved bone structure of his manly face to his ripped abs to his tight little ass, her husband was the hottest man she’d ever dated, let alone married. Every time he kissed her, she nearly fainted.

“Hey baby,” he said in his deep, smoky, baritone voice. He ambled up to her, took her in his arms and kissed her. Her whole body hummed with hormones and love. He pulled away and grinned down at her. “What’s cookin’ toots?” he leaned past her and lifted the lid on the stewpot on the stove. “Right on, chicken and dumplings.” He put the lid back and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for makin’ dinner, baby.”

He left to go throw on some sweats and when he returned, he got himself a beer out of the fridge. “You got one?” he asked.

“You bet.”

“So…where were you today?” he asked in casual manner. Lulled by his easy mood, she didn’t think too much about the question until she happened to glance up at him.

His gaze was fixed on her. Damn it. He knew. Somehow he knew she’d been up to something. The man was practically psychic. Every time she’d pulled something, somehow he just knew. It was like he could read her mind. She had to play it cool.

“I was out takin’ some pictures,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. She turned her attentions back to the stew pot even though she was waiting for the dumplings to cook and had nothing to do, but Zane didn’t know that.

“Where?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Oh, around.” She figured she’d better make some eye contact or he’d be even more suspicious. She turned to him. “Why?”

“I tried to call a couple times, but your cell was off.”

She nodded and smiled. Then turned back to the stove. “Yeah, you know I hate bein’ interrupted when I’m working and Jacob has been hasslin’ me, tryin’ to get me to put stuff in his stupid gallery. Now that I’m famous, or a famous wife, all these slimy bastards who rejected me in the past now want to kiss my ass. So… anyway, you told me not to expect to hear from you. So I didn’t turn it on.” She turned back to him. “What did I miss?”

He smiled, seemingly believing her tale. Good! “Oh, nothin’ just wanted to tell my favorite girl how much I loved her.”

Her heart melted. “Oh, honey.” She walked up to him and hugged him. He kissed the top of her head. “Love you, Zane.”

“I love you, baby.”


Later, as they ate, Lila was stoked. She’d made it through the gauntlet. Zane was happy, she was happy, he’d never find out about her adventures at the racetrack! She relaxed and enjoyed the meal.

About halfway through dinner, Zane asked, “So I gotta take the Lexus tomorrow, that cool?”

“Sure. I got my Toyota if I need to go anywhere.”

He snorted. “When are you gonna get a new car, anyway? I told you I’d buy you whatever you want.”

“We don’t need another car.”

“That thing is a piece of crap,” Zane said, gesturing with his fork. “I’m worried about you drivin’ it. Has no airbags, it’s old.”

Lila said, “I know, but I’m attached to it. We’ve been through a lot, that car and I.”

“It’s just a car. Did you take that today or the Lexus?”

“The Lexus. Oh, damn, yeah, we gotta have that looked at. Somethin’s wrong with it.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah, when you get up to eighty-five or so, the freakin’ back end shakes.”

Zane dropped his fork onto his plate and swung his hot green gaze onto her. He was instantly furious with her. Startled, it took her a minute to realize what she said. She felt smacked over the head. She just admitted to speeding, one of his big rules for her! No!

“Oh, crap,” she said. “Goddamn it! Me and my big freakin’ mouth. Why can’t I just shut up?”

Zane continued to stare a hole through her. Then he started laughing, but he wasn’t amused. “Oh, yeah, I’ll get the car fixed right away. So you can go eighty-five without the car shaking. Oh, man, girl. Well, I know what I’m doin’ tonight. Makin’ a point with my girl.”

©2008, Michelle Carlyle