Amanda's Dominant Daddy Page 7

  “It appears so. The kitchen door is locked, the alarm is set, and the east wing is empty.”

  “This is so scary, but with you here, I have to admit I am a bit excited,” she declared, picking up the glass and taking a drink. “I feel like I’m living a TV drama.”

  “I must admit, I kind of feel like that too,” he admitted, “but on a serious note, when things start to happen, you need to stay here. I don’t know what I might find in that bedroom, and I can’t be worrying about protecting you.”

  “I’ll stand back. I won’t get in your way.”

  “No, absolutely not. God forbid I’m totally wrong about it being a relative or friend of Miriam’s and the guy camping out down the hall is some bedraggled lunatic who managed to find some kind of bizarre flaw in how you lock this place up.”

  “But maybe I could help! If he is a crazed lunatic I could… I don’t know… hit him in the head with a frying pan or something.”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous, and I thought you were scared. Where is all this sudden courage coming from?”

  “I am scared, but you’re here and I like the adrenaline rush. Besides that, my curiosity is overcoming my fear. I really want to see you catch him.”

  “You know what I say about curiosity and the cat?”

  “You have your own saying about curiosity and the cat?”

  “I certainly do. A curious cat is likely to end up with a very red bottom.”

  Amanda’s stomach churned, and staring back into his purposeful green eyes, she felt an overwhelming need to feel his arms around her. Why did the threat of being over his knee cause such a profound reaction?

  “Have I actually managed to get through to that willful, stubborn brain of yours?”

  “Uh-huh,” she managed.

  “Good. I need to know you’re safely locked up in here so I can focus on whoever this guy is and get rid of him. I’m glad you understand,” he said with a firmness to his voice that made her heart skip, then as he turned to walk across to the sofa, he saw what she’d done. “Amanda! You didn’t need to go to all this trouble,” he declared, spying the perfectly made bed on the couch.

  “I want you to be comfortable.”

  “It’s very sweet of you, but I would have been fine with just the blankets.”

  “Now you can be better than fine,” she smiled.

  “Thank you,” he said, shaking his head. “That was very thoughtful, now I must give you fair warning though, I’m going to change into my sweats.”

  “Can I watch?”

  “If you dare, but I don’t have much to hide.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” she giggled, but feeling an unexpected wave of shyness, she turned her head, finishing her glass of milk.

  “I’m decent now,” he said, ignoring her remark, “and I’m climbing under the sheets, so I’m doubly decent.”

  Turning back around and looking across at him, she burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You! Lying underneath all those bedcovers wearing a sweat suit,” she exclaimed. “You look like Inspector Clouseau. Do you know who I mean?”

  “Of course! The bumbling French cop in the hilarious Pink Panther movies. Hey, I did tell you that a couple of blankets would be fine!”

  “I can’t believe this. I’m sitting here laughing, and some strange guy will probably be lurking down the hallway in the middle of the night.”

  “I honestly think it will be a nonevent when I nab him. Turn out that light. Let’s see what happens.”

  “I hope your car in the driveway doesn’t keep him away,” she remarked as she switched off her bedside lamp.

  “He may not even see it if he comes through that back gate you told me about.”

  “Oh, that’s true,” she said with a yawn. “I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

  “Close your eyes, Amanda, get some rest.”

  “I doubt I’ll be able to do that,” she replied, snuggling down between the sheets.

  “Try. At the very least, be still and be quiet.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  “‘Yes, Sir’ will suffice.”

  “Really? I like that, yes, Sir, Mr. Carter,” she giggled. “Were you in the army reserve, or marines or something?”

  “If you don’t settle down, I’ll come over there and swat your backside.”

  His tone had been stern, and as Amanda’s thighs squeezed together and a burst of butterflies made her grit her teeth, she had to admit, though it would be excruciatingly embarrassing, she wanted to be stretched over his lap getting her naked bottom smacked.

  * * *

  Lying on the couch, Braxton could feel her sparkling energy. He had purposefully kept his distance since they’d returned home. Besides wanting to remain focused on apprehending the unwelcome stranger who had invaded her house, as tantalized as he knew she was, he could still sense a slight apprehension about him and what he was offering. He was sure his floggers and cuffs would utterly melt her, that in surrendering control she would discover ultimate freedom, but she would have to want it unreservedly. As the silence settled over the room, and he listened to the rustling of the sheets as she moved in her bed, he hoped she would find her way through her fears quickly. Not only was his dominant soul feeling the familiar ache, he firmly believed that she needed him. She needed him for much more than she was aware.

  Closing his eyes, he set his internal alarm clock for one a.m. The ability to sleep for a predetermined amount of time was a talent he’d developed when he’d been establishing his Internet business. Working around the clock, he’d grab a nap when his eyes could no longer stay open. To his astonishment he’d discovered he could tell himself to wake in an hour and he would.

  His body began to relax, and in spite of the potential danger he felt no trepidation about confronting the intruder. During his training as a stuntman he’d learned some of the basics of martial arts, and his natural athletic ability had kicked in. His instructor had told him he was gifted, and should pursue judo, or jujitsu, or one of the other famous fighting techniques. The scene from The Way We Were floated into his head as he dozed off, and the line that continued to haunt him echoed through his brain.

  In a way he was like the country he lived in, everything came too easily to him, but at least he knew it.

  He was blessed. He was very, very blessed.

  * * *

  When he woke with a start, he didn’t know if it had been due to his internal alarm clock, or if he’d been bolted from sleep by a noise. Sitting up, he immediately sent his eyes across to Amanda. She appeared to be motionless and the room was quiet. Rising to his feet, he padded quietly to the side of her bed and found her breathing was deep and easy. She was asleep. Moving silently across to the door and turning the bolt, he cracked it open and listened. He could hear the noises. They were faint but they were there, and were just as Amanda had described. It sounded as if a drawer was being opened and closed. It made no sense. Why would someone be repeatedly opening and closing a drawer?

  “Braxton?”

  Turning around, he saw Amanda climbing from her bed.

  “Stay there,” he said in a hushed whisper.

  “That’s the sound I always hear,” she said softly, ignoring his direction and walking swiftly across to join him.

  “I’m going to find out what’s going on. Like I told you before, you stay here and lock the door behind me.”

  “I want to come with you. I do understand why you want me to wait here, but I really want to see who it is.”

  “Fetch your cellphone and be ready to call 911 in case I call out,” he said firmly.

  “I’ll grab my phone, but I’m not staying here!”

  “I can’t believe this! We had this conversation,” he said in a harsh whisper, frowning down at her. “Stop being so difficult and do as you’re told!”

  “I’m not being difficult; I just want to come with you. I’ll stay back, I promise.”

&
nbsp; “Listen to me very carefully,” he said, lowering his lips to her ear. “If you follow me, you’ll have a choice to make, and you know exactly what that choice will be. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, stay here and lock up!”

  Without waiting for a response, he slipped through the door, softly closed it behind him, and headed down the hallway. As he neared the double doors that opened into the suite of rooms Amanda called the east wing, the mysterious sounds became clearer, and he suddenly knew what they were.

  “I should have realized,” he muttered under his breath, and shaking his head, he started forward.

  Back in her room, Amanda was standing exactly where Braxton had left her, staring at the closed door. If she gave into temptation and ran down the hallway after him, Braxton would spank her. Either that or leave, and seeing him drive away was the last thing she wanted. He’d been very clear the choice would be hers.

  “Would he spank me? Would he really?” she grunted. “He would. I know he would, and dammit, I want him to, but…shit, shit, shit. Oooh, what do I do? I have to see what’s going on. I’ll make my choice when the time comes, if the time comes. Ooh, good grief.”

  Racing to her nightstand, she grabbed her phone, pulled on her robe, then crept down the hallway. When she reached the alcove with the double doors she found them slightly ajar, and peering ahead she spied Braxton standing outside the bedroom where they’d found the sock. She could hear the noises clearly, but she couldn’t figure out what the blazes they could be. It sounded like someone was sawing wood, but her thoughts were interrupted when Braxton suddenly charged forward and burst into the room. She heard a woman scream, and a man yell something, but the man’s voice wasn’t Braxton’s. Heart pounding, she bolted forward to the open door, and as she stared inside the bedroom she couldn’t believe her eyes. Miriam was in the bed holding a sheet up to her chin, and a short, skinny, naked man quivering with fear was standing with his back against the wall.

  “What the hell?” Amanda demanded, barging into the room.

  “Please, I’m sorry, Miss Anderson,” Miriam bleated. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t call the police.”

  “Get dressed,” Braxton said brusquely, picking up a pile of crumpled clothes from the floor and hurling them at the terrified man.

  “Sorry, sorry,” the man exclaimed, completely panic-stricken.

  “I’ll give you three minutes,” Braxton declared. “If you’re not out of this house—”

  “We will be,” Miriam wailed, her face filled with anguish. “We’ll go, right now, we’ll go.”

  Turning on his heel, Braxton grabbed Amanda by the elbow and hustled out into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

  “I had to see,” she protested as he marched her away. “Miriam’s been using my house to carry on an affair. Can you believe it?”

  “Obviously,” Braxton said curtly as he continued jostling her back to her bedroom.

  “I had to see. I had to know what was happening.”

  “Now you do, and now something else will be happening right after I make sure they’re out of here,” he said sternly as they entered her room and he released her.

  “What do you mean, something else?” she stammered, totally unnerved by his gruffness.

  “It’s your choice. I made it perfectly clear. I leave or I spank you. Think about it and give me your answer when I get back.”

  “I, uh…”

  “You need taking in hand, young lady, but it’s your choice.”

  Watching him stride from the room, Amanda realized she’d stopped breathing. Her heart was hammering against her chest, and a thousand tiny gymnasts were doing somersaults in her stomach.

  “Oh. My. God,” she gasped. “Talk about feeling spine-tinglingly alive! Holy shit.”

  Chapter Eight

  Braxton returned to the east wing just as Miriam and her boyfriend were hurrying toward the back stairs. Catching up to them, he ripped Miriam’s bag from her fingers, searched out her key ring, and recognizing the thick key to Amanda’s house, he pulled it off and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “Move,” he barked, thrusting her purse back in her hands.

  “We’re sorry, honest.”

  “Not interested,” he said tersely. “Get the hell out of this house.”

  Continuing to follow them, he hustled them down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out to the back gate.

  “Just a word of warning,” he said gravely, lowering his voice so he wouldn’t disturb the neighbors. “There was a nanny cam in that room. I put it in myself when Miss Anderson told me she was hearing noises. Everything you did tonight has been recorded. If you’re ever seen around here again, it goes to the police, and then hits the Internet. Got it?”

  “Yes, yes,” the man said, nodding frantically, and taking Miriam’s hand, he led her quickly through the gate and out into the street.

  Knowing the fabricated threat would keep them away, Braxton watched them hurry off down the sidewalk, waiting until they’d turned the corner; as he closed the gate, he made a mental note to suggest to Amanda she put a lock on it. He assumed it was unbolted for the gardeners, but that would have to change. Once inside the kitchen he locked the door, securing it with the top and bottom slide bolts, and headed into the foyer. It only took a minute to figure out how to change the alarm code, then taking a breath, relieved the mystery had been solved and the house was secure, he started up the stairs.

  It was time to deal with Amanda and her gross disobedience.

  In a few minutes he would be staring down at her naked behind, or picking up his bag and leaving the house. Still surprised that she’d ignored his warning, he wondered if she was testing him, or if she had done what she did because she knew he would take her in hand and she wanted to be spanked. Perhaps it was both.

  He hadn’t given any thought about what he’d find when he walked back into her bedroom, but he didn’t expect half-a-dozen candles romantically flickering, and Amanda standing in the middle of the room dressed in a lacy black transparent negligee.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” she said softly.

  “So it appears,” he replied, closing the door behind him. “What is it you do want?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” she murmured, walking toward him.

  As she neared, a subtle perfume wafted around him, and he could clearly see her full breasts and curly triangle of bushy hair beneath the flimsy fabric. Stopping directly in front of him, she lifted her arms and rested them around his neck, then gently pulling his head down, she pressed his lips against his. Her kiss quickly became demanding and full of hunger, and he returned her passion, wrapping her up in his arms. Clutching the back of her hair, he pulled it to the side and devoured her neck.

  “Braxton, please take me.”

  “Take you where?” he whispered.

  “To bed, make love to me, ravage me.”

  To her joy and with a move so fast it made her gasp, he lifted her off her feet, and as he carried across to her bed she felt a wash of relief, but he didn’t lay her gently onto the thick comforter and continue their kiss, or toss her down and leap on top of her. As he sat on the edge of the mattress, he deftly flipped her over, and she suddenly found herself across his lap with his hand at her waist in a firm hold, and his leg lying heavily over the backs of her knees. The maneuver had been swift and sure, and had left her breathless.

  “Braxton! What are you doing?” she protested, a wave of deep embarrassment sweeping through her and turning her face a burning red.

  “You know very well what I’m doing,” he calmly replied. “You still have time to change your mind. Do you want me to leave?”

  “I, uh, oh, I can’t believe this.”

  “I don’t know why you’re surprised; I gave you plenty of warning. Now answer me, yes or no?”

  “Shit!”

  “That’s not an answer. Last time. Yes or no.”

  “I don’t know,” she whimpered, wriggling on his lap, feeling totally mor
tified.

  His hand suddenly landed on her chiffon-covered bottom with a solid slap.

  “Ow! What was that for? Why did you do that? You just hit me.”

  “I had to do something to get your attention.”

  “Are you crazy? You totally have my attention,” she wailed.

  “They why don’t you understand what’s going on here? You’re over my knee and about to be spanked, or I’ll be leaving. I’m going to ask you one last time, which is it going to be?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Again he raised his hand, but this time he landed four smacks, two on each cheek, fast and hard.

  “Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow!”

  “Yes or no?”

  “Nooo!”

  “No, what?”

  “No, I don’t want you to leave,” she groaned. “I can’t believe this. Fuck. I can’t believe this.”

  “So you keep saying,” he remarked, roaming his hand over her upturned posterior. “I take it you’ve never been spanked?”

  “No!” she said vehemently.

  “I’d be careful about the tone you take with me right now. You’re not exactly in a position to be getting snippy, and stop with the potty mouth.”

  “Sorry, I just… I didn’t expect this.”

  “How can you say that? Do I come across as a man who makes empty threats?”

  “No, no, not at all. Can’t we please talk normally?”

  “What do you mean, normally?”

  “You know, with me sitting, uh, up, not like this,” she bleated.

  “Ah, now I understand. You’re stalling. You tested me, you got your answer, and you’ve been stalling. You are a clever woman, I’ll give you that.”

  “No, seriously, please, just let me up.”

  “You’ve made it very clear you don’t want me to leave, which means you want me to spank you. That was the choice.”

  “No, I don’t want you to spank me, but I don’t want you to leave,” she grumbled, unable to confess the truth, that she did want to be spanked, that she did want to feel his hand slapping her bare bottom, and she wanted it desperately.