Page 60 of Rory: His to Discipline

When he pictured Bridget’s bare bottom over his knees he had two very different reactions. If he was frustrated or angry with her he could gleefully picture himself turning her cheeks bright red while she pleaded for forgiveness.

If he thought about it when he wasn’t angry, he had a totally different reaction, his mind torturing his body with thoughts of possessing her in hundreds of intimate ways. It was quite a dilemma.

Basically, he wanted to fuck her, desperately, but Del had learned to control his penis in high school. He liked her, as galling as that was to admit. She was funny, sexy and beautiful. But she was also irreverent, sassy and frustrating as hell. If he thought for one minute a good spanking would make her behave for more than a day, he would do it in a heartbeat, but if something sounded too good to be true it usually was.

Besides, Bridget had a lot of qualities he wouldn’t change for the world. Her father had been right when he said she had a loving heart, she did. So, how did one get rid of Bridget’s wild streak, without losing some of the spontaneous character traits that were uniquely hers?

Del wasn’t at all sure he could stand to see her cry, despite having been the one to cause it if he did give in and discipline her. Sitting down on a bench he pondered these things, not paying a bit of attention to the chaos around him and totally forgetting the shopping he still had to complete.

Suddenly a piercing whistle startled him and he became aware of his surroundings. Lines of children circled the mall court waiting to get to the area where Santa was. Parents laden with packages shifted from one foot to the other, tugging on small hands and scolding tired little ones with the age-old threat that “Santa was watching so they had better be good.”

Looking at the huge chair in the very center of the court, Del smiled. A small enclosed area actually had a couple of reindeer, their antlers trimmed in garland. Santa sat while elves and helpers scurried around him and the photographer took a picture of each child while perched on Santa’s knee. A pretty girl dressed in a short red velvet outfit trimmed in white fur waved frantically in his direction as she handed candy canes to each child as they jumped off Santa’s lap.

Del watched as she bent and helped the younger children down, her skirt so short you could see her red ruffled panties and the top of her red thigh high stockings. Del grinned when the woman standing closest to him elbowed her husband in the stomach. His remark that “Santa wasn’t just for the kids this year” as he ogled the pretty girl’s behind hadn’t been appreciated by the tired looking woman, holding a baby in one arm, while a toddler tugged on her sweater.

Looking back at the display, Del was surprised to see the girl waving again and he looked around, wondering whose attention she was trying to get. Her blonde ponytail bounced as she jumped up and down and her velvet stocking hat slipped to one side. Finally, she bent over and whispered something in Santa’s ear and handed off her candy canes to another girl.

Bridget worked her way carefully through the throngs of children, stopping occasionally to give out a hug or answer questions. She winked at several fathers who asked where their hugs were, but continued on her way. It took quite a while to get close enough for Winston to recognize her, but as soon as he did, his mouth fell open and he stood.

“Winston,” she cried flinging herself into his arms and kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “Are you coming or going?”

Del’s arms automatically closed around her, his hand sliding down to her bottom trying to hold the full skirt over her butt. The perfume she wore today smelled like sugar cookies and for a moment Del didn’t even know the answer to her question. Her soft pink lips demanded his attention and he kissed her deeply, until a mother scolded them.

“There are children present you know,” she hissed in an angry whisper.

Del straightened, releasing Bridget, his ears red. The envious stares of several men in the area added to his discomfort.

“Um, I just got here,” he told her quietly. “I have some shopping to do. What are you doing here, Bridget?”

“Just picking up some extra money for the holidays,” she answered, apparently not embarrassed at all. “Hey, I have shopping to do too. I get off in about twenty minutes, can you wait for me? It’ll be much more fun if we shop together.”

Del was still staring at her lips, but he managed to nod his head in the affirmative.

“Good. Go grab a coffee or something and I’ll meet you in the food court in half an hour,” she cheerfully told him before kissing his cheek again and heading back through the crowd.

* * *

Sipping his cold coffee, Del checked his watch wondering if he’d been stood up. He’d been sitting alone for almost an hour while waiting for Bridget, and he was no closer to an answer than before. They had been on several dates in the weeks since Thanksgiving, going out to dinner and a couple of movies.

Bridget had even convinced him to go ice skating once, something he been fairly good at in his youth. He lost count of the number of times he landed on his ass, while she was gracefully skating circles around him, laughing her head off. Del doubted she would ever let him forget it.

Several times she begged him to go out drinking and dancing and he adamantly refused. A drunken Bridget in his arms was a recipe for disaster. She was already the most uninhibited woman he knew, it was hard to imagine what a few drinks would do to her. There was no way he was going to put his already raging libido through that.

Bridget had gone out anyway, his disapproving scowl not enough to deter her. He spent a couple of exceedingly long nights torn between kicking himself in the ass for not going with her, and imagining her standing in the corner of his bedroom, her little red ass on display as he lectured her about proper behavior. Some of those websites had very specific ideas of what to do with a woman like Bridget, and at times he found them very appealing.

Finally, Del saw her making her way to his table, thankful to note she’d changed into jeans, boots and a Christmas sweater. The soda he purchased for her nearly an hour ago was watery, the ice had melted, but Bridget didn’t care.

Snatching it up she sucked down half of it before coming up for air.

“Thanks, Winston, I’m drier than a popcorn fart,” she told him with a grin, drinking thirstily.

Del choked on his coffee and dabbed his lips with a napkin.

“Must you speak like that in public, Bridget?” he asked with a frown.

“Sorry, Miss Manners,” she quipped back. “I didn’t think anyone would hear me in this cluster-fuck,” she said indicating the huge crowd milling around them, trying to finish their holiday shopping.

“I can hear you,” he replied sternly, fixing her with a scowl. “Now, I have things to do and I’ve already waited for over an hour. Do you think you can be good long enough for us to get our errands done?”