Page 12 of Rory: His to Discipline

“I better get going. Good night, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Rory bent and kissed his mother’s cheek, patted his Da on the back and quietly left through the back door.

Sean pulled his wife back into his arms and rocked her gently side to side. It hurt him to see her cry, but every now and then he had to rein her in, for her own good and the good of the family.

“How about I take my little Irish whirlwind upstairs and show her a thin’ or two,” he growled in her ear.

“Oh, be off with you,” Maeve giggled as she struggled to get out of his arms.

“I’ve also heard tell of such a thing as an erotic spankin’. My personal belief is the man just wanted to get his hands on his wife’s behind, but you never know do you, darlin’?”

Maeve gasped. Sean released her, mostly so he could see the lovely blush on her face. “Where would ya be hearin’ such a thing, Sean O’Malley?” she asked as she began to back away from him.

“I think it was on 20/20 or some such show,” he told her as he slowly advanced on her, his eyes sparkling with deviltry.

“I think you’re full o’ malarkey,” she informed him, just before she turned to run.

Sean almost had her too, but she was too fast for him. It didn’t matter, he thought, as he locked the doors and started up the stairs grinning. She would be in their bed, just where she belonged.

Chapter Five

It was dark by the time Rory let himself in the front door. The house wasn’t much, but it was in a good neighborhood. The corner lot was large, it had a big garage and there was room to grow. Instead of throwing his money away on rent, he bought the house intending to fix it up as he went along. So far not much of that had happened. If he wasn’t at work, he was at his parents or another family member’s home helping them with their projects. It didn’t bother him. He didn’t need much; a recliner in front of his big screen TV, a fridge, a microwave and a coffee pot. Now that he looked around, this wasn’t such a great place to bring Tess, he realized as he hung up his leather jacket in his closet. The bedroom dresser and nightstand were hand-me-downs from his mother, but the king-sized bed was relatively new. He had a tiny kitchen table and a stove that he’d never used that he could recall. He didn’t know where Tess was, but he would definitely have to do some renovating if he planned on her living with him. Of course, Tess wasn’t your typical woman. She didn’t seem to need all the frou-frous that other women set such store by, or maybe she did, but had never been able to afford them. He would have to give it more thought. But first he had to find her. Picking up the phone, he dialed Patrick.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Pat, is Molly around?”

“She is, but she’s in the shower. Anything I can help you with?” “Not unless you know where Tess is. Any clue?”

“Not really, bro, I haven’t been able to really talk to her. Let me see what I can find out after the boys go to bed. I’ll get back to you,” Patrick promised. This wasn’t something he wanted to get in the middle of, but if his Molly was missing he would go berserk. If he could help his brother, he had to do it.

“Okay, I’ll be up late so call me if you find out anything. Thanks, Pat,” he sighed.

“No problem, Rory. Later.”

* * *

Patrick straightened up downstairs, picking up and packing lunches for morning before heading upstairs to tell the boys goodnight. Going down to the kitchen he made Molly a cup of her favorite tea and carried it into the living room. He fluffed the pillows on the couch, and waited by the stairs. The bells around her ankle told him she was out of the shower and moving to the bedroom. When ten minutes went by and she didn’t come down, he called softly up the stairway.

“Molly, what are you doing?”

Molly appeared at the top of the stairs, stretched and yawned. “I’m tired, honey. I thought we’d go to bed early tonight,” she told him hopefully.

One look at her nightgown and Patrick had to turn his head to hide his grin. Oh, yeah, virginal white. The one that made her look about sixteen. Her long white cotton gown swept the floor. Long sleeved with ruffled lace around the wrist, tiny white flowers decorated the bodice. Yup, that’s the one he thought, the one that’s supposed to make me feel like an ogre. Patrick turned, it was almost impossible not to laugh out loud.

“I’ve made you tea, Molly,” he called over his shoulder. He headed to the couch, sat down and crossed one ankle over his knee. Quickly he turned the lamp on the end table down hoping she wouldn’t notice his smile in the dim light.

Molly came slowly down the stairs, her little bare toes peeking from beneath the nightgown. Her bells jingled softly. Her glorious white blonde hair flowed down her back and her big blue eyes took on an innocence he’d seen before. All in all, she was heartbreakingly lovely.

Gliding to the coffee table, Molly picked up her teacup and took a sip.

“Come here, sprite,” Patrick commanded softly, reaching out one hand to her and patting his lap with the other.

Shit, shit, shit, Molly thought as she slowly obeyed. Seating herself on his lap she prepared for the worst, but he only gathered her close and kissed the top of her head.

Patrick inhaled her fragrance and sighed in pleasure. As he cuddled her delicate body, it was hard to believe that inside her beautiful head, she had a mind like a steel trap.

“So,” Patrick began, torn between questioning her and kissing her behind her tiny ear. “Where did you go with Tess? The second time you left the house. The time she was carrying the duffle bag?” he added meaningfully.