Chapter 7 #2
He used his shirt again and wiped away the remnants of tears. He wouldn’t let her look away. Her shield and her undoing, all at once.
“This isn’t the life you dreamed of. I’m not living mine either. Not once did I imagine a future that didn’t include you.”
“Alec,” she breathed, heart aching and full at the same time.
He squeezed her hands. “Let’s start over. Dinner tonight is a good place to begin.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding, before fear could claw its way in again.
He grinned—dazzling white, confident, completely Alec. “That’s my girl. There’s just one last piece of business before I go.”
The room tilted—so did she—when abruptly, he flipped her facedown across his lap. A shocked breath escaped, but instinct, not fear, tightened her belly.
She didn’t react until he lifted the hem of her robe and cool air kissed her bare skin. Her pulse tripped—half indignation, half instinctive heat curling low in her belly.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, though she already knew.
“Delivering a spanking that’s eight years overdue.”
His palm landed with a firm crack on her right cheek. Startled more than hurt, she wriggled, but his arm tightened around her waist—securely, unyielding.
“You can’t spank me!” she protested.
“No?” Another measured swat connected with her other cheek. “It appears that I can. Are you going to tell me you don’t deserve it?”
She deserved whatever came after what she’d done, a decade’s worth of guilt riding her hard—but she’d never imagined him taking her over his knee when the reckoning finally came.
“Alec, please—”
Two sharper swats cut off her plea.
“Imagine,” he said, “showing up for breakfast—one we planned—only to find me gone, the house emptied, no note, no calls, no texts. Nothing.”
He punctuated each no with a crisp smack. His nothing with a flurry stole her breath.
“I’d be concerned, naturally!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking on a hitch of air.
“Concerned?” His voice thickened with anger and something far more wounded. “I looked for you. I thought you’d return to school. Weeks passed with no sign of you. You’d completely dropped off the grid. I felt a helluva lot more than concerned.”
The steady cadence of his swats continued—deliberate, controlled. Her boy shorts rode up with her squirming, offering little protection. Her skin burned, her pride bristled—and yet her body hummed with awareness that had nothing to do with pain.
She could tell him to stop—he would, instantly—but this was clearly eight years of bottled-up emotion breaking loose, and she didn’t.
Not yet.
Several more fell—sharp, stinging, heat building—each one deserved. Finally, when she was certain smoke might rise from her scorched backside, she covered it with her hand out of self-preservation.
“My bottom is on fire,” she yelped.
He caught her wrist, holding it out of the way. “I’ll stop when we’re done,” he said evenly. “And the fire? You earned it. I was hurt. Angry. Worried sick.” His hand hovered, voice dropping to something raw. “I missed you so much I could taste it.”
“I never claimed to be rational,” she gasped. “Basket case Emily, remember?”
“You should’ve stayed, trusted me, asked for help,” he said softly, his hand gently soothing the fire he had stoked. “But we’re together now. And your apology is accepted.”
Alec righted her as quickly as he’d flipped her. With her bare bottom perched on his denim-covered thigh, the rough fabric rekindled the burn.
Raking her hair out of her face, she sniffled and glared at him. “I can’t believe you just spanked me!”
“I believe in consequences,” he said pointedly. “They get progressively firmer with repeated offensives.” He arched a brow as if daring her to argue.
“Repeat? You think that I’d—” She shifted gingerly and winced.
“I won’t run again. I swear. And not because you just lit me on fire.
” She touched his jaw lightly before doing something else that was eight years past due.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong to ghost you. The truth is…
I’ve wanted to apologize for a long time. ”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked softly. “You knew where to find me.”
His reminder that it was in her power to take the first step made her cheeks heat hotter than the spanking.
“I struggled through a few of the stages of grief,” she admitted.
“I’m not sure I’ve reached acceptance even now.
But when the fog started to lift, I wanted to see you.
I missed you so much. I just didn’t know how to make it right. Or if you’d forgive me.”
His eyes gentled, and he cradled her cheek again. “I wanted to be there for you, sweetheart. Then and now.”
It sounded like a vow—a knight’s promise—more than sentiment.
Alec dipped his head and touched his lips to hers in a fleeting caress that stole her breath. Too soft to be possession. Too intentional to be accidental. It was forgiveness and claiming rolled into one.
Emily closed her eyes and leaned into the warmth of him. She had Alec back—her strength, her shield, and maybe, her future.
His phone dinged again. With a low growl of annoyance, he checked the message. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late.” He kissed her forehead and set her on her feet. When he rose, he grabbed her hand. “Walk me to the door?”
“Wait,” she exclaimed. “I said I’m sorry.”
He looked down at her. “And I accepted your apology. How does six o’clock sound for dinner?”
“Alec! You just spanked me,” she insisted, her bottom tingling and still quite warm.
“I’m well aware.” His smirk was pure sin.
She stared at him, incredulous. “Don’t you have something to say? In return?”
“If you’re expecting me to be sorry for taking you over my knee, you’ll be disappointed.” He pulled her close—dominance quiet but unmistakable. “And for future reference? That’s what I mean by clearing the air.”
Before she could protest further—or call him a caveman—he stole another kiss. The sweep of his tongue igniting her from lips to toes. Heat rippled through every inch of her, the spanking forgotten beneath the wildfire he lit in its place.
When he pulled away, she wasn’t sure how she stayed upright on knees that felt as limp as cooked spaghetti.
“I’ll see you at six,” he murmured against her lips. Then he was gone, leaving her doorway colder for it.
Emily staggered to the couch and collapsed onto it, fingers pressed to her mouth. His absolution—and the truth in his kiss—lifted a weight she’d carried for nearly a decade. For the first time in forever, she let herself hope good things were coming and might include him.