Chapter Twenty-Eight

Karla stood outside the door to Mitch’s apartment, her nerves making her fingers tremble. She took Aimee’s advice and wore a short skirt, which barely covered her ass, along with a tank top two sizes too small, which made her chest ooze out the top. The shirt was meant to distract him. The skirt was to make it easy for him to spank her. She wasn’t sure which way today would go, but she prepared for both. She even left her bra and panties at home. They would only get in the way for whichever path they took.

She sighed as she reached out and knocked on his door. Time to face the music.

It didn’t take long for Mitch to open the door, a curious look on his face, his dark hair disheveled, and a cup of coffee in his hand. “I didn’t expect to see you so early. I figured the celebration would still be going or you’d be passed out, ready to wake up with a hangover.”

She gave a weak shrug. “No hangover. I’m pretty sober.”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “What’s wrong?”

She ducked her head, afraid to look him in the eye. God, this is so not like me. “Can we talk?”

He studied her a moment longer, before nodding, opening the door wider for her to enter. “You know where the coffee is. Or do I need to pull out the bourbon already?”

She walked past him, heading for the coffee maker. “We’ll start with coffee and then move up from there if necessary.”

She heard him shut the door and then follow her, his bare feet soft on the tile floor. “Now that sounds ominous,” he said.

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she pulled a plain white ceramic mug from his cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. Mitch sat at the small kitchen table, both hands wrapped around his mug as he watched her. She stared at the table, remembering the last time she was there, naked, eating breakfast, on display for anyone to look up and see. The memory alone would have been enough to make her pussy drip… Except for last night and what she did to the man at the table. She took a deep breath and then sat down across from him.

He watched her, his gaze patient, his posture calm. If he knew what she was about to say, he wouldn’t be so calm. She held her cup with both hands as she lifted it to her lips and took a tentative sip, allowing the coffee to scald her lips before it burned its way down her throat. Still, Mitch sat there and waited.

She looked up into his eyes… And he smiled at her. He won’t smile for long. She took a deep breath, bracing for what she knew was coming, what always happened, but before she could say anything he chuckled. She didn’t know what was so damn funny. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because I bet you’ve never been this nervous or confused in your life,” he said, still chuckling. She squirmed a little in her seat, not wanting to admit he was right. “Karla, after everything I’ve said, everything we’ve done, you still don’t believe me?”

She sat up straight, staring at him. He knows? That son of a bitch expected me to fuck up. “How...? I mean, do you..?”

“Do I know you cheated on me that fast?” He shook his head. “I don’t know anything.” He shrugged. “I just guessed. I mean, you’re not exactly acting all loving and Karla-ish. My guess is the celebration went a little too far last night with someone. Hopefully, it wasn’t that Charlie guy again. He really is beneath you, you know.”

She started to say something, but he held up a hand, stalling her.

“And now you’re feeling guilty, which I bet is a whole new experience for you.” He cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at her. “Actually, I bet you even thought about not telling me. So, why are you now?”

She growled at him and his accuracy. “You really are an ass, you know that?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I know. Now answer the question, and then we’ll get into the details.”

Suddenly, she didn’t want to tell him anything. She just wanted to get up and storm out. She didn’t, though, but she would think about it afterward. “Aimee,” she said, and then she told him about her morning and her conversation with her sister, about how she couldn’t sleep because of what she did, and yes that was unlike her. She was feeling things she wasn’t used to feeling and it confused her. As she talked, spilling her guts, something she never did, he just sat there, quiet and nodding. And smiling. At least he stopped laughing at me. Once she finished, she took another sip of coffee and waited for his outburst. Yet, it never came.

Instead, he took another swallow of his coffee.

She sat there, wondering what he thought, worried that the storm was about to break. He had to be angry. Furious, even. So why wasn’t he yelling?

Once he finished another sip of his coffee, he set the mug down and told her to stand up. With trepidation, she obeyed. He then gestured for her to stand in front of him, which she obeyed as well. “Strip,” he ordered.

She stared at him; the command was the last thing she expected. “What?”

“I said, strip.” He turned in his chair, so he faced her.

She knew her face had to be a mask of confusion, but she still obeyed, pulling her tank top off and laying it on the table and then slipping out of her skirt, adding it to the top. When she finished, she stood in front of him feeling more vulnerable than ever. It wasn’t because she was naked. Hell, she preferred being naked. No, it was because of the situation and the unknown of what came next.

“Now, turn around.” When she obeyed, he added, “Now, bend over.” He’s going to spank me? That’s it? She bent over, holding herself up with her hands on her knees, her ass ready for whatever he wanted to do to it. She braced for the worse. What she received, however, was a tender hand on her ass cheeks, caressing her. “So, you allowed two men to see this naked body without my permission?” He squeezed her ass cheeks, kneading her flesh.

“Yes, sir. I’m really sorry,” she said, standing slightly and turning around.

He yanked her back into the position he wanted. “Stay still.” She took a deep breath. She wanted to see his face, needed to see his face, but he wouldn’t allow it. “And you allowed them to fuck you, use your pussy and your mouth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t we agree I owned this body?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was it yours to give away?”

“No, sir.”

“And didn’t we agree that if you did something wrong, you would be punished?”

This was it. This was the spanking she expected. She braced herself. “Yes, sir.”

“And do you still agree to abide by my punishment, no matter what it is?”

“Yes, sir.” She felt his hands grip her ass tighter and she tightened, expecting the blows to fall.

“Then, tomorrow night will be your punishment, and you will endure it without complaint or whining.” He smacked her ass lightly. “Now, turn around and kneel.”

She obeyed, confused. “You’re not going to spank me now?” She dropped to her knees in front of him.

He gave her a smug grin. “I never said I was going to spank you.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to find out.” He reached out and cupped her cheek, his hand warm, soft. “But today, we need to go back over my promises to you and make sure you believe them this time.”

She felt her mouth drop open as she could only stare up at him. He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t kicking her out of his apartment. He wasn’t even spanking her.

“I’m sorry, pet,” he said, his voice soft, tender. “I thought I was convincing enough when I told you I wasn’t like all those other men. I didn’t want you to worry like you have all night. I thought you understood.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, his lips warm on her cold skin.

She couldn’t believe it. He apologized to her. Apologized! When she screwed around on him, broke his trust. He should be throwing her out, yelling, screaming, cussing, threatening her, anything except for kissing her and apologizing. She felt the constriction in her throat and chest, the tears as they pooled at the bottom of her eyes. She couldn’t stop them from pouring out, and she didn’t even try. She laid her head in his lap and cried, her tears pouring from her eyes to coat his legs. She didn’t deserve him. But she needed him.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, gripping his legs tight against her. None of this made sense to her. This was not who she was. Or rather, not who she had been. Everything was changing. She was changing, and she didn’t know how to cope with it, not to mention even understanding it. She felt his hands on the top of her head, playing with her hair. She cried harder.

“It’s all good, pet. I’ve told you, I’m more like you than you know. We’ll get through this, and then maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll believe me.” She felt his lips on the top of her head. Closing her eyes, she willed the tears to stop. She believed him. She was his.

She turned her gaze up to him, not bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Whatever you want, I’ll do. Just name it.”

That smug grin returned. “Then, how about breakfast?”

She couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted from her lips. “Breakfast it is. Sir.” She leaned forward and kissed his thigh as she felt his lips on the top of her head again. When she looked up again, she basked in his smile. She didn’t know what he planned for her punishment, but she would take it gladly, whatever it was. She deserved it, after all.