“Oh, shit,” Abbey muttered, giggling nervously.
“Ahem,” Loren said. “Anyway, Ethan asked for quick and simple, so that’s what he’s getting. Take it away.”
“Quick and simple, because I’ll let her plan our wedding however she wants it to be, and that can be the long version.” Ethan smiled down at her. “For right now, her collar, and day collar, will be the same thing.”
He dropped down to one knee, producing a jeweler’s box. In it, a beautiful solitaire. “Marry me, sweetheart. Take my ring, take my collar, because you’ve owned my heart for years already. If I don’t have your trust by now, I don’t know what more I can do to earn it, but I’ll damn sure try. All I ask is that you be mine. I know we don’t have a lot of protocols and stuff, but I ask for this—you let me take care of you, however that needs to happen, and you hand things over to me to deal with. Period.”
“I’d take that deal,” Gilo muttered, which earned him laughter and a playful elbow from Abbey. He responded by shoving his hand up under her short skirt, which quickly devolved into…
Brita wasn’t sure what it devolved into, but the two of them soon took over a couch and were spanking each other and laughing and giggling and apparently wrestling.
“Aaaannnd we lost ’em,” Loren joked. “You were saying, Ethan?”
He smiled. “Oh, I have one more condition. I’m the Dom, you belong to me. I don’t care what label you want, slave or submissive or pet or baby or whatever—”
“Baby,” she said. “I love it when you call me that. Please, Sir?”
He smiled. “My baby. Always. But we don’t do that.” He pointed over his shoulder to where Gilo had managed to pin Abbey’s wrists behind her, with her over his lap, and he was now spanking her bare ass with his other hand. “I’m the Dom, you’re not.”
She smiled. “Agreed, Sir.”
He slipped the ring on her left finger. “For life.”
“For life, Sir.”
He stood and helped her up, kissing her as everyone broke into applause.
Except Gilo, who spanked Abbey’s ass for his version of applause, while she squirmed and tried to get free.
* * * *
They stayed and chatted for a while, and a slave-dressed Gilo topped a corset-wearing Abbey on a spanking bench. When his leash got in the way, he slung it over his shoulder and went back to spanking her bare-handed.
After they said their good-nights, they headed through the office when Ethan stopped and backed up, staring at something on the wall. When she realized what it was, she gulped.
He picked up the wooden paddle and hefted it, swatted his hand with it, then took a couple of test smacks against his thigh.
He grinned. “I think someone owes me at least ten good hard paddle swats for disappearing.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice tiny.
“It’s only because I know your pain is low. After tonight, you can always safeword for physical play if you hurt.” He held up the paddle. “I want you to remember these, though.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”
He wasted no time when they got home. He’d retrieved her butt plug and all their other sex toys that were at her condo the evening before. After putting the butt plug into her and cranking it up, he put her on her hands and knees on the bed.
“Ten,” he said. “Won’t make you count them, but they’re going to hurt.”
She dropped her head to the bed, already in a blissful haze from the butt plug. “Yes, sir.”
The first stroke took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. He wasn’t kidding. That made a bare-handed smack feel like nothing in comparison.
Worse, she knew he’d held back a little for that first one, could sense it.
The second was harder, and he gave her time to breathe through it, even reaching between her legs to play with her clit. “I think we’re going to work on the paddle making you as horny as the butt plug does.”
Oh…boy. “Yes, Sir.”
She was crying by the time he’d finished the tenth stroke, and not just because they’d hurt like motherfuckers.
But because she was so horny she couldn’t see straight. The harder the paddle stroke, the more time he took between them, playing with her clit, adjusting the butt plug’s vibration, all of that.
Finally, he knelt between her legs and entered her from behind, every stroke pressing against the butt plug, too.
And her sore ass.
“Come for me, baby. Come for your Sir.” He reached around and rolled her clit in his fingers.
She exploded. The fullness in her ass and his cock and everything—like a damn bomb going off.
“Good girl.” He started fucking her, which triggered another smaller orgasm in her, before he finished off with his cock deep inside her and pumping her full of his cum.
He rolled them to their sides and felt around for the controller to shut the vibrator off.
She let out a shuddering sigh of relief.
“Oh, I placed an order for you this morning,” he said. “But not on Amazon.”
She tipped her head back. “You did?”
“Yep.” He rubbed noses with her. “A vibrating dildo for your pussy. So I can fill you there while I fuck your ass.”
She shivered, this time in anticipation. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
He grinned. “Ah, you thank me now. But there is some serious training in your future. My baby is going to be so well-fucked that you’re never going to think about running away again.”
She snuggled tightly against him. “There’s no chance of me ever running away again, Sir. I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brita sat in a lawn chair in the shade in the backyard and watched Kilroy running around and burning off energy.
Her solitude.
How did I miss that fact?
All this time, Ethan was right in front of her. The only thing stopping her from taking the step was…her.
Getting out of her own way had proven to be the best medicine for her soul.
It was difficult to classify what she felt about the shooting as regret. She definitely regretted that she’d taken a life, and that the kids had witnessed it, but she would have made the same decision again to protect others.
Jack Stankliskwi had brought it on himself. No, he hadn’t counted on there being a former cop as a chaperone. He’d thought he was scaring a group of kids and some parents.
Even more cowardly, in her opinion, that he’d had to resort to such low tactics for lulz.
He hadn’t deserved to die for it, but she couldn’t risk the kids’ lives by hesitating.
Hopefully the experience she’d gone through might make others think twice before doing something so utterly stupid.
Then again, it never paid to underestimate the stupidity of human beings.
She stared at the ring on her left hand. It’d been there for three weeks now, and she was starting to forget what it’d felt like not to wear it.
Except…
Brita followed the dog with her gaze. Really opened her eyes and looked around the yard, at this oasis of peace. Before the events of that afternoon, she’d never really paid much attention to Ethan’s backyard. It was pretty, functional, and sometimes a source of irritation for him in terms of maintenance. In the past when she’d suggested he could move to a place with a smaller yard, or hire someone to do the yard work for him, she’d never really understood why he didn’t want that.
Now, she did. No, she couldn’t help a lot with the yard work, but Ethan enjoyed that the way she enjoyed skeet. Or, now, making amigurumis.
Or spending time working with Kilroy.
His brain-quieting time outside of their bedroom.
She heard Ethan’s car pull up outside even before Kilroy’s ears perked up as he froze and stared at the lanai. A moment later, the dog streaked for the lanai to deliver a futile furry flying tackle as Ethan opened the sliders. He might as well h
ave tried bouncing a peanut off the side of an elephant, for all the impact the little dog had on him.
Turning in her chair, she smiled as he laughed and picked up the small dog, carrying him back outside to her.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Sir.”
His smile widened. “You know, you’re going to spoil me, you keep calling me that.”
“Maybe that’s the effect I was going for.”
“Ah. Then carry on, baby.”
She reached for Kilroy, who leaned back against Ethan, not yet ready to relinquish his daddy. “I think someone is tired of Mommy.”
Ethan stroked the dog’s head. “Nah. He just wants a treat. He knows Daddy’s a soft touch.”
“Soft sadist, huh?”
He smirked. “Sometimes.” He leaned in for a kiss, then turned to head inside. “Want to shower with me?”
She eased herself up and out of her chair. Today, she’d taught a small class of retirees at the gun shop. An easy day, but she felt a little stiff and sore. “Be glad to.”
When she made it to the kitchen, Kilroy was already on the floor and gnawing on the cookie Ethan had given him.
And there was a small wrapped box with a bow on it, about twelve by eight by four inches, sitting on the counter.
“What’s this?”
Ethan wore that smile of his, the panty-melting sexy one that had always melted her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s for you.”
It felt heavy for its size, and her mind immediately went someplace, even as she unwrapped it…
And that turned out to be correct.
The Glock 26 was a newer model than hers had been. She didn’t open the box, not quite ready to go that far, but despite her mixed emotions glad to have one like her gun.
“I know you said you didn’t want your gun back. But I also know how much you loved that gun, because it was easy for you to shoot and carry and it made you feel safe.”
He pushed off from the counter and walked over to wrap his arms around her. “So this is from me. When you carry it, I want you to not think about that day. I want you thinking, ‘This is what Sir gave me to stay safe.’ And that’s how I want you to frame it, without the pretzel logic getting in the way. That even when I’m not physically with you, your Sir is always with you. Because I love you and want you to stay safe.”
She stared down at the box, her vision blurring with tears. She hated admitting that yes, carrying helped mitigate her anxiety. Ever since her injury took her ability to defend herself from her.
And she’d not felt as comfortable with a smaller gun, or one of her larger nines, as a concealed weapon. She’d even unconsciously planned her wardrobe around easily and comfortably carrying. Something she’d never really thought about until after the day at Mote.
“Thank you, Sir. I love you.”
He nuzzled the top of her head. “I love you, too. And I’m so proud of you for how hard you’ve been trying for me. And how hard you’ve tried to get past what happened. I only have one request about this.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“On the day of our wedding, whenever you decide you want it to be, you will not carry. I’ll do the carrying, of you over the threshold. Understand?”
“Clearly, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
She turned in his arms and reached up to play with his shirt buttons. “I was thinking I need to talk to Mom and Dad and see what their schedule is like. When they can fly out here. And we can schedule the wedding around that. Something small, here. Them, Alisse and John and Jordan, George, some friends. Maybe have Kimbra officiate for us.”
He smiled, and it lit her world. “That sounds wonderful, baby. Oh, you know, you didn’t open the box.”
She cocked her head as she studied him, but went ahead and opened it.
Tucked in the top was a stainless steel chainmaille necklace, light, delicate.
“Oh, yeah, and there was something else you can always have on you so that you know your Sir is with you.” He withdrew the necklace from the box and fastened it around her neck. It hung loose, long, just the way she liked necklaces, so they weren’t tight around her neck.
“Is this a collar, Sir?”
He kissed the nape of her neck. “Yes, it is. I warned you Kilroy wasn’t the only one going to be collared.”
She turned, kissing him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I know originally we didn’t really talk about collars, but Rebecca made this specially for me. Well, for you, from me. You know what I mean. And when you have to take your rings off when you shoot at the range, you can keep them safe on it instead of putting them in your pocket.”
She teared up. Perfectly wonderful logic. “Thank you!”
“I have a good idea every once in a while. Even if I apparently suck as a detective.” She spotted the smirk.
“You don’t suck, copper. You’re a regular Columbo.”
Kilroy had finished his cookie and was begging for attention. She scooped him up and let him sniff the necklace. After giving it the Kilroy wag of approval, he leaned against her, staring at Ethan.
“I think he wants his evening Daddy time.”
He stroked the dog’s head. “Maybe one day we’ll find him a four-legged brother or sister.”
She smiled. “Really?”
“Really.” He held up two fingers. “But two’s our limit. One each. That’s manageable.”
“There’s supposed to be an adoption fair this Saturday in Brooksville.”
“I suppose Sachi told you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I guess you should ask if they’d like to have dinner and visitation with their nephew on Saturday.”
That had become the running joke, Sachi asking how her furry nephew was.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Shower time, baby.” He headed for the bedroom. “Don’t forget to lock up your gun.”
She set Kilroy down, and he bolted after Ethan. As she closed the box and picked it up, she realized that today had been a good day, without any pretzel logic sneaking in to ramp up her anxiety.
And even better, now she had a wedding to plan.
THE END
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Tymber Dalton, Pretzel Logic
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