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“Yes. I remember. Holden Prescott’s little girl,” he added, more for the notes Desmond was furiously tapping out on his phone than anything.
“Former,” Frankie replied, her tone bland as if her apparent break-up hadn’t affected her in the least. “But yes. Look, I’m breaking literally every girl code rule here, but Lottie isn’t listening to reason. Before I tell you where she is, though, I need to know what your intentions are with my friend.”
Braden held up a finger to halt Desmond’s note-taking. “Do you mean before or after I blister her ass for disappearing on me without a word?”
There was a beat of silence before Frankie’s throaty laughter came through the speaker. “After. And I meant more long-term.”
“I want whatever she’s willing to give me. I love her, Frankie. And I’m damn well not letting her out of my sight again for a very long time after this stunt.”
Another long pause. “All right. She’s going to kill me for this, but… My father has a cabin a couple hours outside of Charleston. I’m about to go let Lottie know that I need to leave for a bit. Oh, and I have her keys, so she will be stuck here if someone wanted to come paddle some fucking sense into her ass.”
“Frankie, you just bought yourself a lifetime membership to Club BDE, on me. Text me the address. I’m on my way.”
* * *
LOTTIE
Hiding out in Frankie’s cabin had been a lot more fun with Frankie here. And she couldn’t even find her car keys so she could go into town and ease her woes with some retail therapy.
She’d probably be less bored out of her mind if she turned her phone back on. But she had a feeling if she did that, she’d be bombarded with messages from Braden and her dad, demanding to know where she was, blah blah blah.
Or, worse yet, she’d turn her phone back on and there would be no messages because they’d both decided she wasn’t worth the trouble she’d brought to their friendship. When she’d expressed that concern earlier in the day, Frankie had simply stared at her with an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ sort of expression before disappearing into her bedroom for nearly an hour. After which she’d emerged freshly showered and dressed, announced that she was going into town for supplies, and that by the time she got back she expected Lottie to have pulled her head out of her ass and called Braden.
That had been over two hours ago, and Lottie still hadn’t gotten the nerve to even turn her phone back on.
Sorry Frankie.
The sound of tires on gravel and footsteps on the front steps had Lottie bolting upright on the couch like an eager puppy waiting for its master to return home. “Jesus, Frankie, what kind of supplies did you—you’re not Frankie.”
“I certainly am not.” His expression almost eerily calm, Braden closed the door behind him. All of a sudden, the spacious cabin was far too small. His presence seemed to fill up the room, and Lottie froze in place, watching him as he approached the couch.
Unbuttoning one shirt sleeve, he carefully rolled it to his elbow as he advanced. She just barely caught herself before she licked her lips at the sight of his muscular forearm being exposed inch by inch, the thick veins flexing as he finished tucking the sleeve into place. “You have about ten seconds to convince me why I shouldn’t spank that naughty little bottom of yours until you can’t sit comfortably for a week.”
“I, um…” All the reasons she’d given Frankie for fleeing suddenly seemed silly and childish. “Because you’re just so happy to find me, safe and sound, you’ve decided you’re not mad anymore?”
“I am very happy to have found you. But I’ve had about three hours to get over my relief at knowing where you are, so unfortunately for you, that’s not going to save you.”
Climbing down from the couch, she backed away, carefully keeping herself out of reach. “Can’t we talk about this, first?”
“Sure.” Despite his agreement, he didn’t so much as pause his advancement. “You can start by telling me why you disappeared, turned your phone off, and left me wondering where the hell you were.”
“I was upset.”
“That makes two of us.”
The backs of Lottie’s legs hit something hard, making her stumble. Braden lunged for her, hauling her against him, and her breath caught in her chest at the furious, determined look in his eyes.
“Naughty girl,” he murmured, a moment before he dragged her back to the couch and sat, pulling her unceremoniously down over his knees.
“Daddy, no!”
Grabbing the hand she threw behind her in a vain attempt to protect her bottom, he pinned her wrist to the small of her back as he wrestled her leggings down to her knees.
Pain radiated across her backside as his hand smacked against her bare skin over and over. Holy shit, had he been holding back this whole time? She didn’t remember her other spankings hurting nearly this much.
“You do not run from me.” His words were punctuated by sharp, stinging slaps that had her drumming her feet against the couch cushions. “If you’re upset about something, you can cry, you can yell, you can even tell me you need some time to yourself. But you will not run from me ever again, Charlotte Ann, or I can promise you that this spanking will seem like nothing more than a few love taps by the time I’m finished with you. Am I making myself perfectly clear, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”
