Behave Page 3

  Oh my god. He does have something to do with that man’s death. Chills rippled through Lainie, pursuing each other down her arms. The man was capable of murder and he was sitting on her bed. Her mind raced. Play dumb. Survive. Give him a way out. “I saw the man in the street,” she said. “I don’t believe you had anything to do with it. He was hit by a car. Accidents happen all the time.”

  “Sure,” he said. And his hand slammed down on her throat. A grinding pain choked her and she coughed. “Don’t mess with me,” he said. “The cops came to the hotel looking for me. You know something, or you think you do, and you told them. But you don’t know enough, they’ll never get me on whatever it was you said. If I kill you, they might make the connection and come after me again. They know that you think you saw me there. But I think you imagined it, in the dark, trying to be a hero. You were the one who already opened your big mouth to them. So what’s it gonna be? You promise to keep quiet, or I’ll be back? I know people, I’ll find you.” He lightened the pressure on her neck to let her respond.

  “Yes,” she croaked. “I mean no. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I knew you were a smart little piece,” he said. He heaved himself up, off her bed, and stopped, standing over her. “Too bad I gotta run. Might’ve been fun to hang around and see if you feel as good as you look. Soon, Baby.” He sidled toward the open window. “And if you’re spreading your legs for that loser, Hal Barmak, he won’t be in office for long. I’ll make sure of that. You better start putting out in my direction if you want to be on the power side.” He clambered out her bedroom window.

  Her breast ached, her brain reeled, and her mind began to race. She had to tell Hal. Hal had guessed Mason might be dangerous, but he’d thought the man was on board to help him win the election. Telling Hal about Mason was an obligation. What he didn’t know was that Mason, who had the power to hire a driver to strike down a pedestrian, and to break into her home and threaten her, was hovering around his election campaign just to bring him down.

  But if she told Hal what the fucking pig was capable of, he’d insist she stay with him. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

  Chapter Three

  Never in her life had Lainie needed a man for help or protection. Her dad, an attorney, had always been too busy, travelling to meet clients, and preparing for trials to pay attention to her. And her mom too. She’d been a traveling nurse. Between them, they could easily afford care for Lainie, but they weren’t there to listen to her problems or needs. When she decided to go to medical school, it had been her dream, her plan, and she’d been determined to do it without their help. They’d never shown any interest in her before, and by the time she was a young adult, it was too late.

  When she’d been a nervous newcomer to the city, she’d used a stick as a wedge that made it impossible to open her window. She’d left it lying on the sill for months, forgotten, as she concentrated on excelling at the prestigious university med school of her dreams. The rod fit perfectly as she jammed it into place. When all her lights were on, blazing in every room, she stretched herself out on her couch and realized that, despite her earlier exhaustion, sleep was now a distant wish, but impossible. She brought the phone with her, grasping it in one hand, not even willing to put it beside her, and spent the next three hours agonizing over how, and what to tell the governor about her intruder. She had to tell him, but she was not going to let him take over her life.

  It was light when her phone chimed, making her jump. She checked her phone screen. Hal. Barely seven in the morning, why would he be calling so early?

  “Lainie. What happened last night?”

  “I was going to call you.”

  “But you didn’t. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in five.”

  She said, “Don’t.” But there was no response. He’d hung up.

  Off the couch, into the bathroom, a quick tooth brushing and face wash, she ran fingers through her shiny auburn hair and flipped it back behind her shoulders. Angry red marks, beginning to bruise, stood out on her neck like a neon sign, blazing that Mason had almost choked her. She sprinted for the bedroom and grabbed a scarf to tie around her throat. That was it for grooming. There was nothing she could do about the dark circles under her eyes. How could Hal have known? Of course. He was the governor; he probably had eyes everywhere. She pulled on black cords, lifted a clean blouse from her closet, and buttoned it with shaking fingers.

  Even though she was expecting it, the knock on her door startled her and made her heart thump.

  On the porch, in a fresh suit and tie, Hal was pacing when she opened the door. He didn’t wait for an invitation, but pushed the door wider and marched in, strode down her hall, and seated himself on the couch. Tom followed, carrying a square basket with a lid and two styrofoam cups. The mouth-watering aroma of fresh, buttery pastry wafted from it. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. When the food and fresh coffee were arranged on the low table in front of the couch, Tom left discretely.

  She’d expected Hal to fly in like a whirlwind and demand information instantly. Maybe he was going to be sympathetic, and understand why she’d been afraid to call him sooner.

  Hal patted the sofa cushion beside him. Lainie sat in the armchair. Hal narrowed his eyes.

  After the night she’d had, she couldn’t imagine anyone looking as put together as he did. Every one of his abundant chestnut hairs was in place, brushed back from his handsome face, his deep chocolate eyes clear and alert. A fleeting wish that she could allow the attraction she felt for him to surface came and went. He was not here for a social visit.

  “Dig in,” he said, holding out a styrofoam cup of coffee. He lifted the basket lid and pulled out a covered plate. When he peeled back the foil, the biggest croissants she’d ever see appeared, surrounded by little cups of butter, three types of jam, and two small silver butter knives. “You haven’t eaten yet,” he said. “I know that as sure as I know that you haven’t slept.”

  She couldn’t resist the coffee and helped herself to a cream container and a plate from the collection of tableware. The still warm croissant flaked as she tore a piece off, butter melted when she touched it to the pastry, and after her first bite, she knew the jam she’d piled on was blackberry, made with fresh fruit and sweetened, subtly, to perfection. Surprised at her hunger, and her ability to enjoy the food, she ate ravenously, forgetting the horror of the night for a moment.

  Hal sipped his coffee, never taking his eyes off her. When she slowed down and was sipping her coffee, he stood, stepped out from behind the coffee table, and paced. “Talk to me,” he said. “I told you that if anything happened here, I’d know.”

  “I was just about to call you.” She drained the gourmet coffee and placed her cup on the coffee table. “But how do you know anything did happen?”

  “Don’t you realize yet that I have a direct line to the police? A call came in this morning from one of your neighbors. She couldn’t get through last night; cops were too busy. But she saw someone leave by your window. After he left, when all your lights came on, she saw you moving around, so she didn’t think it was an emergency.” He kept walking, back and forth like an agitated lion, and then stopped in front of her. Eyebrows raised, he waited, looking down at her. After a few seconds he said, “Well, was it?”

  “No. I told you I can handle myself.”

  “Lainie, if you don’t stop making me pull teeth here and start talking, you’re going to find yourself across my lap and getting a whaling on your behind that will make last night’s spanking seem like a walk in the park. Do you think this a game? You keep saying you were going to call me. Make me believe that. Why didn’t you?”

  Her bottom tingled with an electric surge. “All right,” she said. “It was Mason.”

  “I thought so. And?”

  “He left. He knew I’d seen him on the street last night, and when the cops showed up at the hotel, he knew I’d told them he was there when that man was struck. I promise
d not to tell anyone he’d threatened me, and he left.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “You’d better be telling me the truth.”

  “I’m all right. But I want you to know. He may seem to be on your side, but who knows what he’s up to? You need to stop worrying about protecting me, and think about what his interest in you is.”

  “You’re finally catching on,” Hal said. “I tried to tell you he might try to stop you from talking. He went to the trouble to find out where you live, broke into your place, and you didn’t call me right away. Where was your phone with my number in it?” He paced faster, his voice low and angry.

  “I was exhausted,” she said. “I hit the bed and passed out.”

  “Not good enough.” He stopped suddenly, reached for her hands, and pulled her to her feet. Fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists. Walking backward, he seemed to feel his way around the coffee table until his calves connected with the couch. He sat, pulling her to sit beside him. “Now you’re going to tell me the whole truth, or my hand will start in on your buttocks until you don’t think you’ll ever sit down again.”

  She tried to pull her wrists from his grip, but couldn’t.

  “Where was your phone? You had it in your hand when I left. If you’d done what I told you, you’d have made sure to keep it with you, tired or not.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference,” she said. “His hand was over my mouth when I woke up. I couldn’t have made a call.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference, meaning, you didn’t take it with you when you went to bed.”

  She was breathing fast now, frantic to slow him down. He wore an angry flush, and her behind began to burn.

  “That won’t wash.” In less than a second, he had pulled her across his knees, face down, just like last night. And just as before, she tried to twist around, to turn over and keep her bottom down, away from his touch, and couldn’t. One hand came down to press on her back; she was locked in place.

  He smacked her once. “There’s a reason I had to hear from the police about the break in,” he said. “Tell me what it is. You’re going to get spanked anyway, but maybe it won’t be as bad if you convince me you couldn’t, physically, make that call while Mason was here, or, after he left.”

  “I...” said Lainie, feeling miserable and helpless, but desperately searching her mind for something he’d believe. That she’d fallen asleep as soon as the man who had just terrorized her was gone?

  His huge, warm palm began to rub circles on her bottom. “You what?”

  “I knew he’d gone. I locked down the window, he couldn’t get in again, he wouldn’t be back.”

  “You may be a brilliant woman,” he said, reaching his fingers around, under her, finding the button on her jeans and pulling the waist open, “but you’re a ridiculous liar. You can’t come up with an excuse, can you? You were just being obstinate.” Her pelvis was positioned between his legs, leaving room for his hand to pull down her zipper. “Lift up,” he said. “You know what’s coming.”

  “No.” She pressed her front down harder, trying to deny him access.

  Strong fingers worked their way under the waist of her jeans, front and back, and he yanked them down, over her buttocks, down to her knees. She struggled, pushing with her hands against the couch to get leverage, to kneel up and pull away. A sharp slap stung, and immediately, her panties were wrenched down over her bottom. Air whooshed across her naked legs and buttocks as he brought his hand down, hard, against her behind.

  She couldn’t push up against the hand holding her back, couldn’t wriggle away, or twist out from under the blows slamming down on her bottom. It hurt, each blow stung, but she would not make a sound this time. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he could hurt her, influence her. The flesh of her behind shimmied, embarrassing enough, but it was daylight, and knowing he could see her backside clearly this time was humiliating.

  Another hard, smarting whack, and another, the rhythm getting faster, the blows harder with each slap. She felt her bottom give each time his palm connected with her, and her flesh quivered more. The stinging increased as he struck the same spot, again and again. She couldn’t bear it, but she wouldn’t cry out.

  She struggled to lift up, the hand holding her lower back pushed down harder. Clamped between the hand and his hard thighs, she could only twist a tiny bit. She brought one hand back to cover her bottom, but he grabbed it, and pulled it down to hang over his leg.

  “Leave your arms down,” he said. “Don’t get in the way of this thrashing, or I’ll really use some strength.” She bit hard on her lip and forced herself to drop her arms down. Her legs dangled from her bare behind on the other side of his legs.

  He pushed her hand against his calf. “You’d better hang on,” he said, “and give up on trying to stop me. There’s no way out of a spanking you know you deserve, but if you keep trying, I promise you, I’ll take longer. There’ll be more spanks, and more, and you’ll wish you’d done what I told you in the first place.” He seemed to be able to talk easily, and deliver a sound spanking at the same time.

  He was striking her buttocks with more force. And she began to feel the spanks through her pelvis, down to her vagina. Her clitoris hungered for stimulation. The burning skin of her backside transmitted heat to her front, and vibrations to her crotch. Her squirming shifted from desperation to escape his palm, to craving for more. His iron thigh beneath her was like a tease as she bounced against his leg with each slam of his hand on her bottom. She squirmed harder, involuntarily grinding into him now, not trying to get away.

  “Don’t even try,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve finished teaching you to listen.”

  Shame burned her face. He thought she was wriggling to escape, and she was glad he didn’t know the whole truth. Involuntarily, she bucked, up and down against his thigh. She thought she would die from the humiliation.

  Pain overwhelmed the sensation between her legs. It was too much. His walloping hand moved down, away from the center of her buttocks, no longer striking the same spot, but finding new, and tender places to strike her skin, lower yet, until he was spanking the under curve of her bottom.

  She really couldn’t take any more. Suddenly, she heard her own scream. “Stop, god, stop it. Please, I can’t stand it.” Three more whacks landed on her burning skin. Her bottom was on fire, and the bruised flesh ached. “Please,” she cried out, and began to sob. She tried to roll from side to side, to avoid the blows now.

  But there he had stopped. “You should see your bottom,” he said, placing his palm on the stinging mound of her backside. “It’s bright red, the way a well punished bottom should be.”

  She hung limp, exhausted from fighting him, and from the pain, her behind quivering as if he were still pounding on it. A wave of sickening shame at finding herself dangling over his lap, unable to move, to protect herself, washed over her, along with the awful realization that he had been right in wanting to protect her.

  “I’m going to turn you over now,” he said gently. “And hear what you have to say for yourself.”

  She was crying hard as he bent over her and rotated her torso around until she was facing up. She kept her eyes closed, mortified at what he had done to her backside. A shriek erupted from her lips as her scorched skin scraped along the scratchy fabric of his trousers.

  “Yes,” he said, “that smarts, doesn’t it? Now what were you saying about how you just couldn’t call me last night?”

  Face buried in her hands, and still sobbing and gulping, she mumbled, “I didn’t want to call you.”

  She felt him shift as he leaned forward, picked up something from the table, and leaned back again. He tucked a silky linen napkin beneath her fingers. She held it against her wet eyes. “Blow,” he said. “There are plenty more where that came from.”

  She blew her nose, no longer caring about the painful flesh she was sitting on, perched
on his lap, or the expensive fabric of his napkin. Visions of Mason standing over her, his hand on her throat, his breath gagging her rose in her mind. She threw her arms around Hal’s neck and hung on for dear life. It made no sense. She should have called him every vile name she could think of after the pain he’s just inflicted.

  “You were saying that you didn’t want to call me. I believe that. You’re as stubborn as a mule. A small one.” He dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

  She snuffled, gulped, and said, “I was afraid.”

  “Afraid of a licking?”

  “Afraid you’d make me live in your house, or watch me all the time, or both. That I’d never be free again if I told you Mason had been here. And then, when I didn’t call you right away, it got worse. I didn’t know what you’d do if you figured out that I had a chance to call you after Mason left. And didn’t.”

  He held her close, and rocked her slightly, side to side on his lap. She winced. He stopped and said, “I know your behind hurts. If you’d listen to me the first time around, I’d have Mason behind bars by now, I could have had him caught him in the act. Or, you’d have been safe at my place. None of this would have happened, and your bottom wouldn’t hurt now.”

  Her buttocks flinched and she blushed.

  “He broke in and assaulted you. Of course you’ll press charges now.”

  “No,” she said. “I can’t have him arrested. He knows people, like the driver who killed that man. Someone will come after me.”

  “So, now you know what you’re up against. You’re going to come and stay with me, where I can keep an eye on you. Make sure no one finds you.”