Chapter Ten

Griffin knelt in front of the fire. He added a log and waited for it to catch. When the flames licked the log and grew he added another one.

“I’ve never been a murder suspect before,” he said. “It’s not something I’m happy about.”

Her grandmother had taught her to offer solace in times of need, but she’d never taught her what to say to someone who was now suspected of having murdered someone. Saying something like, “We’ll take care of it,” seemed so trite.

“Maybe he woke up enough to tell them you’re innocent.” When he looked up at her she shrugged. “Maybe?”

“Knowing Portland he would tell them I was guilty just to get me into trouble.” Griffin moved to the sofa. They were back in her cabin. They’d traded the truck they’d driven back here with one in the fleet, leaving the one with the hot hood away from prying eyes in case the police came looking to see if they’d been out.

“Do you think we’ll hear from Brett tonight?” she asked.

“Doubtful,” he said. “I made the mistake of texting him, and that leaves a paper trail. If they figure out we were there tonight we’re in a world of hurt.”

She knew he was telling the truth. “We shouldn’t dwell on it.” She straddled him, running her hands across his shoulders. “I could take your mind off it.”

“You’re so bold for a submissive,” he said.

“Does that mean I’m a bad girl?” She leaned down and nuzzled his neck.

“I think we both know the answer to that question.” He moved his neck, and she took advantage of it and started to nibble on his collarbone.

“What would you like to do to me, Mr. Flack?” She lifted her head and stared down at him. “Or what would you like me to do to you?”

“I should be the one giving you what you want.” Griffin stared at her.

“Are we switching roles?” she asked softly.

“Not in the least, but I want to help you for saving my ass.” He tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t exactly very manly of me to hide.”

“That statement shows your cornbread ain’t done in the middle.”

He pulled back, and she could see the – was it anger? – in his eyes.

“Are you saying I’m dumb?”

“Not at all. Think about it this way. What’s better, to hide, or to be macho and be in jail? Now that we know Portland is dead, we know why the cops were in his cabin, hoping the guilty party would come back. If being macho lands you in jail, then yeah, your cornbread ain’t done in the middle. But since you listened to me, I’d say it’s ready to come out of the oven.”

He flashed her a sexy grin. “Cornbread is best served with a lot of butter. What kind of butter would you like tonight?”

“Whipped.”

Good heavens above, the dark look he gave her almost turned her to the aforementioned spread.

“To do this properly we need to either go to my cabin, or to my office.” He put his hand on his cock, and Jett licked her lips.

“If we were at Tres Lobos West, I would strip you buck naked and make you walk around for a while in the cold night air, then I’d strap you to a spanking bench and redden your ass, or maybe your pussy. Which would you prefer?”

Jett put her hand to her chest and worked as hard as she could to control her breathing.

“And you don’t want to do that here, at Bear Creek?”

“We don’t do public play here.” He stroked her hair. “There’s too much of a chance of someone seeing us, and that wouldn’t be good. But there is my private little playroom in my office. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to walk over there, and you’re going to pretend you’re naked. You’re going to walk in front of me, and I’m going to take a minute and go pick up a riding crop from the stables. Then we’ll go to the lodge.”

Without waiting for an answer he stalked out the door. Jett rolled over onto her side and stared into the fire. Addictive. That’s the only word she could put to what was happening between her and Griffin. It had its good points, and bad. The sex was good, actually fantastic. The fact that he lived three hours away from her was bad.

The fact he was going to get a riding crop could be good, but truth be told her ass was still sore from last night. But if he whipped her again, the lingering pain would be a wonderful thing to feel on Monday, and Tuesday, and maybe even Wednesday. But what would happen after that? Would she come back next weekend? Would he want her to? She certainly hoped so.

“Up.”

Jett jerked her head toward the doorway where Griffin stood. Her sexy cowboy had a riding crop in one hand, and in the other he had something he hadn’t mentioned—a length of rope.

“There’s no one out, so the chance of us being seen is minimal.” He tapped the crop against his calf. “Get up.”

When she was on her feet, she put her hands behind her back, spread her legs, and lowered her head.

“So perfect.” He stood next to her now, and he stroked her hair. “Except I need your hands in front of you.” When they were he wrapped the rope around them several times. “It’s not that tight, which means if we run across someone I’ll drop the rope and you can work your way out of the bonds.”

“Yes, Mr. Flack,” she said.

He led them out the front door, but he walked to the back of the cabin. It was cold, and without her coat for protection, Jett shivered. She rather enjoyed him holding the rope that held her hands together. The only thing that would make it better was if she wore a collar, too. It had been far too long since she’d had one around her neck.

They made their way to the back door of the lodge, and as they walked, Jett’s juices began to flow. Her clit throbbed in anticipation of being played with, and her nipples tightened. When they were up on the back deck he stopped and turned to her.

“Knees.”

Jett dropped down as quickly as she could, since she didn’t have the benefit of her hands to use for leverage. When she was down she gasped a little when his rigid cock appeared before her lips.

“Lick.”

She ran her tongue over the slit, the salty taste of him making her hum in appreciation.

“Lick until I tell you to stop.”

She ran her tongue back and forth, up and down the shaft and over his head. When she wrapped her lips around his head he jerked her hair and she released him, crying out in pain.

“Did I say suck?” His pissed off tone sent a thrill through her.

“No, Mr. Flack.”

“You do what I say, not what you want.”

“Of course, Mr. Flack.”

“Get up.”

Jett stumbled to her feet, using her elbows and a chair that was close by to leverage herself. Once she was upright he told her to look up. She did, then bit her bottom lip as he undid her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. He unlocked the door and pulled her in behind him. She stumbled as she worked to keep pace with him once they were inside and he’d locked the door behind them.

By the time they got to his office she was out of breath. He locked the office door behind them and she hobbled as they made their way to the playroom door. Once they were inside he flipped on the light and pointed to an X in the middle of the room. He didn’t have to issue an order. She shuffled over there and stood on it.

“Are you sore?” His question came out of the blue.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good.” He walked to the chair and flipped a few buttons. The chair lifted into an upright position, the arms and legs still out. She’d never played on a chair like this until she’d met Griffin, and she was excited to see what he would do with it this time.

“Over here.”

Jett moved in front of the chair and held out her hands. She expected him to untie the ropes, but he did not.

“Tell me, Jett, would you rather your ass was sore, or your pussy? Or your tits? Which excites you most?”

That was a tough question, and she tried to come up with a perfect answer. There wasn’t one. “I like the idea of all of them being sore.”

“You make it hard for me to decide what to do.” Griffin tapped the riding crop against his leg. Jett couldn’t help but wish it were striking her, and not him.

“Tonight is a reward.” He continued to tap the riding crop against his leg. “Which means you can come as much as you want, and when you want. Of course we haven’t discussed this because we’ve just played once. Your safe word is still cherry? Or do you want something else for our second time around?”

“No, cherry is fine, Mr. Flack.” But if you don’t hurry up and get started I may lose my mind.

“I’m of two minds tonight,” he said. “I want to reward you, yes, but I also need to blow off some steam. I’m still angry with myself. That means I have to pull out a piece of equipment I haven’t used in quite some time.”

She hated the idea that he’d used whatever piece of equipment he was talking about on someone else. But she wasn’t a virgin in the other lover department, so she needed to get a grip on her feelings.

“I’m open to whatever you want, Mr. Flack.”

“Pleasure for the both of us.”

He untied the ropes around her wrists, then gently pushed her backward so that she was against the chair. He made her step out of her jeans and panties, leaving her bare from the waist down. It took him seconds to bind her arms and legs, and then he pushed buttons and she was on her back. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but seconds later the legs of the chair bent so that her legs did the same, leaving the V between her legs wide open for him to play with.

She heard him moving around the room, and then the sound of equipment being moved. She tried to lift up so she could see, but whatever he was doing, it was too low for her to see.

“Just one more thing,” he whispered, right before he wrapped a soft cloth around her eyes. “It’s much more fun to deprive you of one of your senses, just to heighten your pleasure.”

Jett wasn’t sure how she felt about being blindfolded. She’d never done anything like this, and there was a part of her that was fascinated by the idea, and another part that was terrified. But then it started, something hard and wide slapped her pussy, and she groaned. There was another one, and another one, and another. A whirling noise accompanied the slaps, and she knew what he’d put into use. A spanking machine, one with a wheel that moved the paddles that slapped her mound.

But then he added something to the mix—sound. He slapped the riding crop against the wall, against the floor, against the other equipment that was against the room. Or at least she thought that was what he was doing.

The slaps from the paddles mixed with the slaps from the riding crop to make her jump, fight her bonds, savor the pain. The sound produced by the riding crop let her know he was wielding it with a great deal of force, which told her why he was not striking her with it. It told her a lot about him, that he knew what to do when he couldn’t control himself. She was very happy about that, and so was her pussy, which was beginning to ache from the paddles that slapped her over and over.

Her hips moved, and the sound stopped, making her whip her head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was. A clicking sound told her he was between her legs, and she imagined him turning the machine off. Instead the speed increased.

Jett’s body tensed as the spanking intensified. When the paddle hit her clit she wiggled her hips, increasing the pain she felt, and making her bundle of nerves tighten. She counted them in her mind, one, two, three, four, and on the fifth one she came, her orgasm rushing through her and making her gasp with pleasure.

She tried to relax against the chair, but it was not easy. The spanking continued, and the second orgasm was not as hard as the first. She closed her eyes and begged for it to end, barely managing to say please over and over.

The machine slowed, and then stopped. Jett continued to move her hips, the pain radiating through her. She heard his zipper come down, and when he gently slid inside her she closed her eyes and let the fullness settle into her. It didn’t take long for him to come, and when he collapsed on top of her he nuzzled himself against her sweater covered chest.

“Next time we bring the whole body into play,” he said.

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Her voice was soft when she said, “I’m not sure I can take another spanking.”

“There’s always next weekend,” he said. He lifted his head so he could look down at her. “You will be coming back, won’t you?”

“Do I need to make a reservation with Nan?” she asked.

“We’ll rent it out to someone else,” he said. “You’ll be staying in my cabin with me, where I have many more toys for us to play with.”

Jett smiled, and then groaned when he kissed her. She so much wanted to stay in his cabin with him, to see what he had to give her pleasure. Unless he was in jail. Then she’d find a way to break him out, and they would run away together.