Jordyn Green dreamed of owning her own bakery since she was small, despite her mother’s criticism. She drove an old car, lived in a small apartment and worked two jobs to make her dream come true. It was finally happening and all it took was throwing all her money at it and the sexy, dominant, mountain man contractor, Ben Collins, to fix it up.
Ben was a widower who was looking for a fresh start in a new town, but he didn’t know it would include a brand-new renovation project and a sexy baker. He wasn’t sure he was ready to move on, or that he would ever find a woman who could stir any feelings in him until he met Jordyn. A sassy spitfire who definitely needed a strong man with a stronger hand.
This is book three in the Clearwater Romance series and can be enjoyed independently.
Publisher’s Note: This contemporary romance is intended for adults only and contains a new beginning romance and power exchange. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
Why was she even tempted? She wasn’t! Well, honestly, sitting on his lap and pouring out her woes to him seemed like it would be a great idea, but not that way!
“Maybe I should just sit on your lap and we can cuddle and talk?” she offered a sensible compromise, she thought.
“We could, but it wouldn’t be what you needed,” he told her. “Come on, you’re making it worse by waiting.”
“Am not,” she countered. Brilliant. He’d spanked her once last week, for the first time, but that had been fun and playful, lighthearted and full of giggling which led to a lot of making out. She didn’t think this one would be the same at all.
Her phone dinged and to stall, she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at it. “Great. Another delay on the sign. It won’t get here in time! Why does everything go wrong at once?” Suddenly she did feel like crying, but that would only be tears of frustration, not of the pain he was planning to cause in her bottom.
Sighing, he stood up and grabbed her arm, walking her back to the chair, where he sat and pulled her over his lap. Why wasn’t she fighting with him? What good would it do? She didn’t even try to stop the choked sob that escaped her.
“Hope you are comfortable, ‘cause you’ll be here a while,” he told her and brought down his hand on her bottom. What was she supposed to do? Just lay there and take it? No. She wasn’t going to.
“Ben, stop it!” she complained.
“Sorry,” he said. “No can do.” And then he smacked her twice more. It didn’t really hurt, but it wasn’t really pleasant.
“I’m serious,” she said, but didn’t make a move to get off his lap. She flinched feeling the four quick smacks that came down again and was glad she was wearing her jeans. Why did she want him to take them down? She didn’t. That would be ridiculous. She wanted them on. And wanted him to stop.
“Ben! No more!” she said, but that just made the smacks come harder and faster until she couldn’t help squirming, trying to get away. “Okay! I’m done!” she said.
He stood her up, suddenly, and all she felt was disappointed and snappish. All she wanted to do was call him names like wimp and tell him to follow through on his promises.
“Drop the jeans, Jordyn,” he said. “I’m tired of trying to get through to your brain with a denim barricade.”
She shook her head, but her hand went to the button on her jeans. “No,” she said, as she unzipped them. “No.”
“Whatever,” he said, and yanked them down. All she felt was a bit of relief, as strange as that sounded. He wasn’t going to leave her high and dry, but would do the job well and properly. A tiny part of her felt grateful for that, but the smarter part of her brain, was suddenly in flight mode and she took a step away, before he grabbed her and she was back over his lap with an oof.
“Be easy with me!” she begged. “Please!”
“Sorry, kiddo. I’m going to give you what you are needing and that’s a good hard cry,” he said, and brought his hand down on her panty clad bottom.
“Ow!” she cried out. That hurt a lot more than over her jeans! “Too hard!”
“Getting through,” he suggested. “Let’s get this going, shall we?”
“No!” she said and tried to wriggle away, but he held her fast and close to him. It wasn’t but a minute later she felt panic set in. How could she get away from this? “It hurts! No more!” His only response, it seemed, was to spank harder and faster. How could she make this stop? “Okay! No more, no more!”
He didn’t even bother to answer her, but just steadily kept up a rhythm of pain on her already sore bottom. He might be silent, but she couldn’t stop.
“No! I can’t, please, please!” Her legs began to kick and her hand flew back to try and stop him. “No! I’ll be good! It hurts, it hurts!”
The panic was deep seated now and she fought harder to get away, and that didn’t seem to bother him at all. “Ow!” she screeched as he smacked her tender thighs four times and broke into sobs. That was just mean. He went back to her bottom but the dam had broken and she couldn’t stop crying. Barely able to breathe, she gasped and sobbed and couldn’t bring herself to fight anymore. It was no good, she couldn’t. He was bigger and stronger and would spank her till he was done.