Cowboys in Charge Page 3

  The line inched slowly forward and she started sweating beneath her knee-length leather coat, and not from heat. No, she started thinking about Trent’s warning before they’d left the ranch. About how angry he’d been last month when she’d reached the limit on their credit card. He’d nearly had a stroke, but he’d paid it off, taking money from their savings. He’d also lectured her royally about the problem of her being reckless with their money. Of course she’d snapped back at him that she didn’t have a problem. He was just being a tightwad, Scrooge. The subject had remained a sore point between them ever since.

  She glanced at the gloves, the boxers, the radio, the stocking cap, and the bottles of men’s cologne for each of the six ranch hands. Okay, maybe Trent didn’t need a few of those items. Maybe the men didn’t normally wear cologne. But they could.

  She tensed, her stomach contracting to a tight ball. She’d lost some of the receipts lately, from store purchases and online ones as well. Just how much had she spent? Nausea threatened.

  “Next in line,” the sales clerk called out, pulling her from her anxious thoughts.

  Suzy nudged her forward. “You can still change your mind.” She planted her hand on the expensive gloves. “Save yourself some grief later.” Pain too, was implied. One of the many things they had in common was being married to men who believed in spanking.

  Lizzie shoved her friend’s hand away and glowered at her. “Everything will be fine. I’m buying these.” Yet, even as she made the assertion, she tingled all over, and not in eager anticipation. There was a very good chance she’d spend Christmas afternoon or the next day—maybe both—standing a lot. But such was her life with a husband who had an almost rigid set of rules and a hard hand to make her pay when she went against them. Good thing she loved the old poop head.

  * * * *

  It had been a hell of a long day. Trent had dealt with one problem after another ever since he had walked into the bunkhouse at dawn and found two of his men sick with the flu. He supposed it would pass around to everyone on the ranch in the next week or so. Perfect. Right at Christmas time with so much to do to get ready for snow that would be coming before long, with family and friend get-togethers that he was too tired to even think of attending—but would anyway.

  Flu. Damn, damn, damn. Maybe he and Lizzie wouldn’t get it since he’d insisted both of them get flu shots last month. He never liked getting sick and what it did to his over-burdened life. He would hate it even more if it interfered with his plans for him and his wife. For once in over six years of marriage, he’d put some real thought into a Christmas gift for her. Actually, it was for both of them. His surprise was costing him—them—a good chunk of money, which made him nervous. But for once he was tightly reining in the Scrooge side of him. When she’d called him a scrooge and a tightwad during a recent argument about money, he’d suddenly wondered if maybe he did have that tendency. At least with her.

  He glanced at her as she got up from the table. He loved her and wanted her to have everything she wanted, but recently it was getting damn hard to afford. He was getting concerned about all her shopping trips into town with Suzy.

  He swallowed the last bite of roast beef, so full he really needed to loosen the top button on his jeans. His sweet little wife could be one fine cook when she put her mind to it. Usually when she wanted to get on his good side. But she wasn’t on his good side and she knew it.

  He pushed his chair back from the dinner table and wished he could simply go watch TV or even read some more of the book he’d started last week. But he had an unpleasant chore to take care of first. Lizzie had gotten a speeding ticket coming back from Hays this afternoon. They’d talked before about her tendency to have a heavy foot on the gas pedal. This was her second ticket in three months. The worst of it was that she hadn’t intended to tell him about this one. He only knew about it because he’d noticed it sticking out of her purse that she’d left on the counter when she’d carried some bags up to the spare bedroom. He knew she was storing the Christmas gifts in there and he was honestly afraid to go in there and see all that she’d bought.

  “You go ahead and relax, honey,” Lizzie said, scurrying away from the table with her hands full of dishes. She didn’t even look in his direction.

  “I will, in a few minutes.” He watched her stiffen at the grimness in his tone. She should feel uneasy because she knew how much trouble she was in.

  She sucked in a breath and set the dishes on the counter over the dishwasher. Still she didn’t glance back at him. “I really should go to the courthouse and protest the ticket. I’m sure I was only going maybe five miles over the limit.”

  He knew her better than that. He also knew she always did her best to skirt around something she’d done wrong. Like getting another well-deserved ticket. Not taking responsibility for her actions was one of her bad habits they were working on by mutual agreement.

  “Let’s not play this game tonight, Elizabeth.” She would understand that by using her given name he was upset with her and wasn’t going to simply back down. The matter would be settled right now, at least as far as between them. She would have to pay the fine later.

  Warily she turned to face him, her face a little pale, lines of tension bracketing her mouth. “You’re tired. I’m tired. Can’t we just…” She stopped when he shook his head.

  “Get your sweet ass over here. Now.” Disciplining her was always difficult. He believed in domestic discipline and it seemed to be helping her with breaking some bad habits, but he didn’t enjoy it. Right now he’d rather have nearly-kill-him, wild sex with her. But she needed more from him at times, like a well-applied hand to her pretty butt.

  She hesitated, clearly not interested in obeying. No big surprise there. She took a sound spanking, but she didn’t like the hours of dealing with a sore bottom afterward.

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Oh fine,” she snapped and blew out an exasperated breath. She stomped over to him. Her eyes sparked with irritation. “I really don’t want to do this.” And yet she’d come to him.

  When she stood in front of him, expression pinched in annoyance, he reached out to unfasten her jeans. She remained perfectly still because it was expected of her. His fingers brushed her soft skin and he fought back instant desire. Her stomach quivered and he heard her quick intake of breath. She was affected, too. He ignored her reaction as well.

  “You should have thought about that before you put the gas pedal to the floorboard.” He concentrated on pulling down the zipper, on what he was doing and why. It wasn’t easy, though.

  “I did no such thing!” she objected, although her cheeks turned pink and she didn’t meet his eyes.

  She’d always been a terrible liar. He pushed the jeans down to mid-thigh. The sight of her creamy legs had his body tightening and he struggled to focus on his task. He braced himself for tugging down her bikini panties and seeing the curly dark hair covering the place he ached to be inside of.

  It took him a second before he could get past that. He swallowed hard. “The ticket said you were going twenty miles over the speed limit. Not five.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but his dark look had her saying meekly, “His meter thing might be wrong.”

  He arched an eyebrow, telling her he wasn’t buying the excuse. As her shoulders slumped, he pulled her to his side and then over his lap. He waited as she wriggled into position, but watching her do so had him grinding his teeth. Even through the thick denim, he felt every squirm of her delectable body. There were times when he suffered almost as much during these spankings as she did. Almost.

  Her hands flattened on the tile and her long dark hair fell around her face. Still fighting down an erection, he looked wearily at the butt he was about to heat up. It was such a shame to spank her and send her to bed. Even if he was tired tonight, he would rather have spent their time together now in a much different way. A thought that made his situation worse and had him trying to think of anything but sinking d
eep inside her. But even listing off the chores to do tomorrow, the supplies he needed to get, did little to stop his body’s reaction to his wife.

  “Get it over with already,” she grouched, jerking him back to the moment. She was always pissy when she was about to get spanked.

  Relieved and irritated at the same time, he swatted her clenched cheeks hard enough to make her jerk her head up.

  “No warm up?” she complained on a hiss.

  His hand landed equally hard a second time. “No. Elizabeth Morgan, you have far too much attitude today. But I’m fixing to take care of that problem.”

  “Then do it.” She settled down again, muttering, “You know I hate dragging this out.”

  “More attitude? Really?” He could be as obstinate as she could be snippy. He held still, his hand raised high for another smack. “You’re being far pushier than normal. What’s that about?”

  She refused to answer him. She was always out of sorts when he was punishing her. But this was different. Something else was going on with her. Something he would find out about later and have to deal with. He knew it gut deep. Lizzie could really test him at times. But he loved her, bad habits, crankiness, occasional disobedience and all.

  Lizzie stared at the floor, feeling almost cross-eyed as she waited for her husband to get on with the spanking. Attitude. Yes, she wasn’t the least bit happy with the situation. It was bad enough that she’d bought all of those extra presents that he would be seriously upset about later. But she’d been stupid enough to push the speed limit, again.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, his legs stiffening beneath her as he prepared himself.

  She rolled her eyes, huffed in disgust as she realized he couldn’t see her response. “If I said no?”

  “What do you think?”

  “That you would know I was stalling. That you are going to burn my butt anyway.” She pulled in a breath and waited for him to get down to business.

  He didn’t let her down. The man knew how to give a proper spanking. He was expert at tenderizing every inch of her poor bottom, and then doing it some more. Wriggling all over his lap, kicking up her legs, arching her back…none of it waylaid him from his task. And she certainly got her exercise in during a firm butt busting lesson.

  She was biting down the need to cry out in pure stubbornness when he sent the hardest smack yet to her sit spot. That did it. She yelped, “Ohhh, gawd!”

  He added one lighter smack for good measure. “Okay, we’re done here,” he sounded relieved.

  She collapsed in misery and let the tears slide down her cheeks. Well and truly spanked. Again. She really needed to stop getting into trouble with him.

  After another few seconds, she sucked in a steadying breath and eased off his lap. Her bottom was on fire and she desperately wanted to reach back and try to smooth away the sting. Something which never really worked. Instead, she stood in front of him, blinking away tears, and fisting her hands at her sides. She wanted to flee to their bedroom and pout about what had happened. But she couldn’t until he told her it was okay to do so.

  He studied her, searching her eyes for an admission of some kind. He suspected she had more to tell him. She did, but wasn’t ready to get into that right now. Although it would probably mean she’d suffer another spanking later.

  “Is there something else you want to tell me, sweetheart?” he prodded, his brow creased in concern.

  “Um, no.”

  He sighed heavily, looking disgusted. Even as annoyed as he was, he still had trouble keeping his gaze above where her jeans rested low on her legs. She felt him staring at the beads of moisture on her bush. Her bottom might hurt, but she still got aroused being half-dressed and close to him. And she’d felt his erection pressing against her, could still see it. But he didn’t believe in mixing discipline with pleasure.

  She might ache for having him pound into her in his wonderfully hot cowboy way, but she would rather wait a while. He liked her to have time to come to terms with having been spanked. In truth, she got past that part really quick. She used his staying-away-from-her time to get ready for the make-up sex.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, but his expression told her he already knew her answer.

  “Not now,” she mumbled.

  “Shit. That definitely means there’s more.” His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “Go to bed.”

  She experienced a second’s hesitation. Should she just get everything out there? Take another spanking now and be done with it? No.

  Resigned, she fell back onto their standard procedure. She carefully pulled her clothes back into place, wincing, and hurried from the room. It looked like cleaning up tonight was his chore. Not like it was the first time.

  * * * *

  Christmas Eve had finally arrived. Lizzie knew she should be wrapping the rest of the gifts and carting them downstairs. But as she stood in the middle of the spare bedroom staring at everything she’d piled onto the bed she couldn’t work up the energy to do it. She’d really bought that much extra stuff? They had been to one neighbor or another’s every night this last week. She’d cooked a ton of cookies, candies, and pies. She’d helped with wrapping gifts at the department store as part of a volunteer project. The list went on and on. Basically she was dead-dog tired.

  A glance at her watch told her she had at least another four hours before Trent would end his workday. She already had beef stew in the Crockpot and fresh, homemade bread cooling on the counter. What would it hurt if she took a quick nap? An hour would surely revive her enough to finish the last of the wrapping chore.

  She carefully shut the door and walked on weary legs toward their bedroom. A shiver of unease snaked up her spine. Trent had already groaned and grumbled this morning when he’d seen the additional presents she’d shoved under the tree yesterday. She wasn’t sure she could even get any more under there. Maybe she should just forget these others. She could stash them away for next year. But she didn’t really like that idea.

  Dragging herself to the big bed, she dropped onto it. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Okay, an hour. She’d not take longer than that.

  * * * *

  Trent decided to call it a day earlier than he’d planned to. All of these hard days and partying nights were getting to him. He was only thirty-two but some days he felt like he was sixty. He walked into the mudroom next to the kitchen. Shoving his boots off, he drew in the scent of stew. His stomach rumbled. He breathed in deeper. Fresh bread, too. One of his favorite smells. His Lizzie had outdone herself today.

  He hung his coat on a wall peg and headed into the kitchen, grinning, eager to see his wife. He was as hungry for her as he was for the stew. They’d barely done more than kiss in days, since that last discussion about her spending problem and the speeding ticket. Both still bothered him. Why couldn’t he get through to her?

  Frustrated, he forced those thoughts aside for now. Instead he focused on that sexy little red corset and matching panties he’d boldly ordered online a while back. He’d thought about how she’d look in them from the second the package arrived. Damn hot. Exactly how she’d look. Christmas red. Her best color. ‘Course he didn’t plan on her wearing them for all that long a time.

  His dick pressed at the front of his jeans. That vision of her wearing the sexy red number was driving him crazy. Maybe he’d give her this particular gift tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow morning. They could have some extra fun tonight. That sounded like a hell of an idea.

  Where is she? Anxious to get started with that plan, he went looking for her.

  She wasn’t in the great room, but the heavily decorated tree was…with a mountain of wrapped gifts both under and beside it. He gritted his teeth, felt his stomach contract like a fist. She’d gone overboard again. Even after they’d had a serious discussion about the matter in early November. He didn’t even want to think about how much money she’d spent on all of these things.

  He didn’t feel quite as enthusiastic t
o find her now, but he walked up the stairs. As he neared their bedroom, he heard her light snores and smiled, amused. I don’t snore! How many times had she told him that? He should record it sometime and play it back for her. Except that would just tick her off.

  The door to the spare bedroom was closed as he started by it. He stopped, a sinking feeling hitting him. There couldn’t be more gifts still in there. Of course not. Yet he drew in an anxious breath and turned the doorknob. His gaze landed on the bed. Shit!

  Anger curled through him, made him jerk the door closed again with a loud slam that shook the walls. Damn, damn, damn!

  He strode to their bedroom, chest pounding. All thoughts of giving his wife that sexy outfit fled. But she’d be wearing red tonight…on her ass. He couldn’t tolerate this senseless spending any longer. She would listen to him this time, at least she’d get his message in a memorable way.

  She must have heard the door slam because she sat up on the bed when he entered the room, blinking away the fuzziness of sleep. When she spotted him and his no doubt sour expression, she said warily, “You’re upset with me. Why now?”

  Trent headed straight for the walk-in closet, counting to ten, twenty, and fifty as he went. He stood inside and waited until his breathing had settled. “Didn’t we talk just yesterday about all the presents under the tree? I told you there were too many. And you swore that was all of them. Remember that discussion?”

  She remained quiet. He bunched his fists but didn’t move. “Well?” he challenged.

  “Yes,” she assured, her voice little more than a whisper.

  He closed his eyes and sucked in a settling breath. He’d heard the guilt underlying her simple answer. No doubt she realized from the loud door slamming what he’d just seen. And she knew what she faced now. Dammit, this was Christmas Eve!

  Glancing at the special red leather paddle hanging beside the door, he clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to do this. Yet he couldn’t let the problem fester between them. That wasn’t their way. It had to be faced and dealt with.