Cup of Joe (Bold Brew 1)

“Definitely not.” My ass still stung. “But you are shy about your body. Which is adorable, but seriously, if you need me to blow you in front of a mirror to cure—”

“I don’t,” he protested, a little too quickly.

I turned so I could give him a hug. “All I’m saying is that I’m into you. All of you.”

“Thanks.” His cheeks were bright pink.

He released me, and we headed outside. After setting aside his phone, he busied himself removing the lid to the hot tub, checking various controls, and finding towels.

He glanced at me and said, “While you were snoozing, I used my phone to check to make sure it’s safe for you to use the hot tub with bruises.”

I decided to allow him to change the subject and resume my body-positive campaign later. Him in bustling caretaker mode was another of my favorite things, and I wasn’t going to push too hard and miss out on that. “That was sweet of you, but they’re already fading.”

“You sound sad.”

“Well, yeah. I liked your handprints on my ass.” Letting my towel drop, I inspected my butt. It was only a little red, not black and blue or anything too dramatic.

During the spanking, the pain had been so intense and all-consuming that I’d figured on bruises for a week, but clearly either my pain tolerance was for shit or Joe knew what he was doing. Probably both. “I liked that. A lot. I like feeling naughty, then being good enough to take a spanking from you.”

“Because you’re a brat.” His voice was fond as he pulled me to him.

“And you like that?” I prompted, needing to hear it. I still wasn’t entirely sure whether Joe was simply indulging my kinks or whether his own desires were being met.

“More than.” Joe gave me a soft kiss. “You acting all bratty and naughty and the spanking does it for me. Big time.”

“Good. It felt like I was flying there at the end.” High on the memory of the sex, I undid his towel. The spanking had been intense, a release like I’d never had before, something cathartic that reached deep inside me, but the sex after had been another level all together. The way we’d kissed and moved had been desperate and primal and possibly the hottest thing in my entire life.

Joe’s eyes flared hot and dark. “It was fucking hot. You were amazing.”

“So were you.” I slipped into the tub before I could be tempted into blowing him right there on the deck. Some other time. We didn’t need Joe expiring from self-consciousness before we even had some hot tub fun.

“Doing okay?” he asked as he followed. He did more fiddling with the controls before he settled down next to me.

Honestly, the churning water was a little much on my sensitive skin, but this had been my idea, so I was determined to stick it out more than twenty seconds. “Fine.”

“Good.” He leaned back with a groan, flexing his right hand against one of the jets. Maybe I wasn’t the only one with bruises. I smiled at him as he continued, “I honestly haven’t used this tub that much since I installed it a couple of years back. Nice to have an excuse to.”

“No wild hot tub orgies?” Teasing, I lightly splashed water at him.

“Nah. Guess I’m kind of boring, especially compared to a lot of the Bold Brew crowd. I’ve been to a couple of their invite-only play parties, but it’s not really my scene. I’m more of a homebody.”

“Yeah, well, I like your home a lot.” I bumped his shoulder. I liked him a lot too, but figuring out how to convey that was hard.

“Thanks. You…uh…tempted by any of the munches or the private play parties away from the shop?” The color was back in his cheeks.

“Nope.” I kissed his blushing cheek. “Exhibitionism isn’t one of my kinks.”

“Says the guy who loves being naked.”

“In your house.” I shifted away from one of the more aggressive hot tub jets. “With you.”

“Hah. Thanks. But you’re twenty-two. You should probably explore—”

“You trying to get rid of me?” I hardened my voice, wanting to shut down his thinly veiled attempts to put distance between us. He wasn’t particularly subtle either. We’d just had amazing sex, so naturally he was nervous about how long something this good could last. So was I, but I wasn’t going to let him think I already had one foot out the door.

“No, of course not,” he sputtered. “I like you here. A lot. Both naked and not. I was simply trying to be realistic.”

“Well, stop.” I stared him down until he looked away. I shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable position and failing. “Speaking of realism, I may have been overly optimistic about what my ass can handle.”

“We can get out—”