“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 eachnowith a crisp smack. Hisnothingwith 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 hisjaw 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?”
