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Everything was bothering her! He was bored with her. He hadn’t given her a single compliment, or noticed that she wasn’t smoking, or even defended himself when she’d attacked. She knew exactly what was going on. He’d grown bored with her because she wasn’t smart like Emma, and she wasn’t kind like Emma, and she wasn’t as interesting as Emma. Now all he wanted to do was get away from her. Well, she wasn’t going to let him go. Not until she kicked him out!
“We’ll have to spend the night here.” She sprawled down on the couch, letting her dress slide up as she settled back into the cushions. “I’m too tired to drive back to Wynette tonight.”
He spoke in a low, tight voice that was unlike his normal thoughtful tones. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Of course you don’t! Because you’re a tight ass who wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you.”
“Torie . . .”
Furious, she leaped to her feet. “Can’t you stand the truth? You’re stuffy and boring and—”
“I suggest you be quiet.”
“What’s the matter? Are you afraid I’ll jump you and find out that you’re missing a pair of balls?”
“That does it!”
The next thing she knew, she was dangling upside down over his shoulder. “Let me down! What in the hell are you doing?” She punched him in the back.
“I’m taking you upstairs to spank you.”
“What!” She was so shocked that she stopped punching him. And then her mood soared. She finally had his attention. “You’re kidding.”
He wrapped his arm tighter around the thin knit fabric that covered her thighs and began hauling her up the stairs. “How could I be kidding? I have no sense of humor. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” The upside-down jolting made her dizzy, but, at the same time, she was beginning to feel better than she had all day.
The jolting stopped as he reached the top of the stairs. He hesitated for a moment, then made his way into the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Kenny’s. He dropped her in the middle of the bed.
“I’m afraid you’ve pushed me too far, Victoria.”
Finally! She set her teeth in what she hoped looked like a snarl. “You go to hell.”
He grabbed her, jerked her toward him, and turned her over his knees. “I realize this will be painful,” he said in that stodgy way that he knew pissed her off, “not to mention politically incorrect, but it has to be done.”
She snorted. Not in a million years would he go through with this.
“I mean it, Victoria. You’d better brace yourself.”
She cocked her head, looked up at him, and said dryly, “Maybe
you’d better give me a piece of wood to bite down on for the pain.”
He chuckled.
She smiled to herself.
Then he smacked the flat of his hand down on her butt.
She was so surprised that she nearly spoiled the whole thing by rolling off his lap. “Ow! That hurt.”
“I apologize.” He smacked her again.
She winced, then thought about biting him in the calf or simply pushing herself away, but she was too curious to see what was going to happen next. And she also felt this warm little wriggle of . . . something . . . that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Imagine Dexter O’Conner, the biggest dweeb in Wynette, Texas, having the nerve to do something like this.
Another smack.
It didn’t feel good, but it didn’t exactly hurt either, and, in a perverse way, it was nice to have finally riled him so much. “You brute,” she managed.
