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“Yeah. That’s fine.” She climbed into her car, and he shut the door. As she slipped the key into her ignition, she turned toward him, but he was already walking to his bike.
Her phone dinged, notifying her of a text message.
She picked it up and swiped it alive.
James Hamilton
Punishment: breakfast with me 8 a.m. sharp.
Another ding.
After your spanking.
Her mouth slacked, and she began to type out a reply while his bike roared to life several spaces over.
Before she could finish typing, another message came through.
Do not text while driving. Put it away and pull out of your spot.
She looked over at him. He grinned at her from across the lot, then gestured for her to put the phone away.
She shifted into reverse and pulled her sedan out of her spot. He showed up right behind her, and she slowly drove toward home.
She had all night to think of good reasons for him not to spank her, but she had one stellar reason for him to go through with it:
She wanted him to.
Casting a glance in the rearview to assure herself he was actually there and she wasn’t dreaming, she relaxed. James Hamilton followed her home. And in the morning, she’d lay over his lap and feel the heat of his hand on her ass.
Could Valentine’s Day get any better?
The End
