MissBEHAVED

Chapter Eight

Dixon

I opened a package of mushrooms and moved to the sink to rinse them off, watching out of the corner of my eye as Mellie situated herself on the stool. She winced slightly when her tender bottom rested fully on the seat, but she didn’t look too uncomfortable.

I took the mushrooms back to the cutting board and started slicing them, leaving silence between us, waiting to see what she’d say about this afternoon’s turn of events. Spanking her was completely unplanned, but I was a man of my word, and I would not tolerate disrespect.

“You’re good at that,” she said. I looked up to find her studying my hands intently as I finished with the mushrooms.

I moved on to the other half of the onion she’d destroyed. “Do you want to talk about my cooking skills or about what just happened between us?” Her eyes darted up to me before returning to my hands. “Because I’m happy to explain my knife skills, but I think we need to discuss why you’re so afraid of being in a relationship with me.”

She sighed and leaned forward, putting her elbows on the counter and resting her chin in her hands.

“I’ve had some bad experiences with men. I suppose that they really were just boys, who pretended to like me but were only interested in my family’s money and connections,” she admitted, still not looking at me. It twisted my gut to see how vulnerable and ashamed she was from some assholes’ actions.

“That’s not me, Mellie. I have no idea who your family is beyond what you’ve told me and money isn’t important to me,” I replied. I picked up a green pepper and began slicing it into thin strips.

“No, it scares you and I’ve been in that situation too.” She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled it back into one of those messy buns women somehow knew how to do. I liked it better down around her shoulders, but now wasn’t the time to share my opinions about her hairstyle. “I dated this guy my junior year of college. It was great for months, but then I took him to my parents’ house over spring break and he freaked out as soon as we arrived. He accused me of hiding my background and said he’d never live up to my standards. He called a cab and went back to campus within an hour.”

“He sounds like a pussy,” I said after considering my words for a moment. What I said here was important, and I needed to be careful. “Does your family’s wealth intimidate me? A little. But I can get over that because it’s not important. What matters to me is who you are on the inside. So far, I’ve learned you’re a great friend, you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re confident, and you’re not afraid to pursue your dreams. You’re also a great kisser, have a fantastic ass, and like to get a little kinky. And you’re willing to let me be in control of the things that matter to me.” I paused, set down the knife, and reached over the counter to take her hands in mine. “That’s what I know now. I’m sure I’m going to learn other great things about you, but unless you’re secretly a whining shrew, I know enough to want to make this official. Don’t lump me in with your loser exes. I’m not them.”

I waited until she nodded her agreement before I released her hands.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t let my fear and past experiences affect what’s happening between us now.” She chewed the edge of her thumb as she watched me dump the chopped vegetables into a bowl and rinse the cutting board and knife. “Can you cut up the chicken, too, please? It’s in the fridge. I need to marinate it for at least an hour.”

I grabbed the chicken and starting trimming it, waiting for her to spit out whatever was making her nervous. She certainly wasn’t twisted up over asking me to slice up some raw poultry.

“One thing you didn’t mention in your list of things you know about me is that I have a bit of a tendency to let my mouth run away on me when I get stressed or upset,” she finally blurted out and looked up at me, nerves evident in her worried gaze. “I’ve always been that way. It doesn’t happen too often, but I doubt I’m going to change overnight.”

I chuckled but paused my slicing and met her eyes so she could see that I meant what I was about to say.

“Mellie, I don’t mind taking on your temper when you get worked up as long as you’re not mean to me.” She let out a breath I hadn’t realized she’d been holding and smiled. “And as long as you accept that there will be consequences if you’re disrespectful to me.”

She swallowed and licked her lips but didn’t look away. “Like today?”

“Like today,” I confirmed. “But didn’t you feel better after the spanking? I felt better after giving it to you.” She opened her mouth and from the flush on her cheeks and the confused look in her eyes, I could tell she was going to disagree with me. “And don’t lie. Lying is a worse offense than disrespect. I don’t think you want another spanking, do you?”

She shook her head and took a deep breath before responding.

“I did feel better afterwards, but isn’t that weird?”

“No, nothing is weird between us. And lots of women feel relief after a punishment,” I assured her.

“It calmed me down and cleared the air between us. I’m glad you didn’t leave,” she admitted in a small voice.

That was probably as close as I was going to get to a ‘Thank you for spanking me’, at least for today. We’d work on that in the future.

“I’m not going to let you push me away because you’re scared. And I can handle any temper tantrums you throw at me as long as you accept the consequences of your behavior. Agreed?” I was pushing her again, but we were making progress, and I didn’t want to give her time to think on her own. She’d get everything muddled by worrying about what’s right and what’s wrong.

To my relief, she nodded. “I agree, but there won’t be any more ‘consequences’. Now that we’ve talked this out, I feel much better. I won’t have any more tantrums, as you called them.”

She scrunched her nose and scowled at me, making me grin at her perturbed face.

“I call them like I see them, and what I saw was a young lady who rolled her eyes, stomped her foot, and tried to throw me out for no good reason. That’s a tantrum in my book.” I put the chicken in another bowl and washed my hands. “Now that we’re on the same page, let’s put this behind us and move on. What else do we need to do to get ready for this book club of yours?”

After we finished prepping everything she needed, Mellie gave me a tour of her house. Her and her father’s house, she corrected me more than once. I made sure to school my outward reaction but inside my head, I think I said ‘holy fuck’ about twenty times. Each door she opened blew my mind. The house was built on a hill so it was even larger than it appeared from the front. The lowest level held three identical suites, each with a private bathroom, surrounding a game room and bar that opened out onto a patio. The second level was the main living level and held the common areas: kitchen, great room, home theater. The third level was Mellie’s personal space and held her bedroom and a bathroom the size of my living room at home. She had a soaking tub that would comfortably fit both of us and a glass-enclosed shower with multiple showerheads at each end. I couldn’t help but imagine the two of us in there, all soapy and wet.

While the rest of the house screamed high-end luxury retreat, her bedroom was far more comfortable. There was a sitting area at one end with a loveseat and club chair arranged in front of a reasonably sized television. A king-sized bed dominated the other end, next to a sliding door that opened onto a balcony big enough for two chairs. Everything was done in light greens and cream; it was feminine but not overly flowery. I would be comfortable living in her room.

Her friends arrived and I realized I knew three of them from high school. Layla, Raquel, and Kendra were two years behind me but with Walker’s Grove being so small, we were on the same campus from kindergarten through twelfth grade. Everybody knew of everybody, even if you weren’t close friends. And since they knew of me, they knew that my family was one of the traditional ones and, from their smirks when they saw Mellie shift uncomfortably in her seat, I was quite sure they suspected I followed the same path.

Not that any of them had any reason to be smirking. They all grew up the same way. When I told Mellie traditional relationships were common in Walker’s Grove, I wasn’t kidding. At least half of my friends growing up came from households where spanking was the norm, and I knew that many of the guys I still kept in contact with structured their relationships the same way.

I had one beer with the ladies then left them to their club, which appeared to be mostly an excuse to eat and drink. Mellie assured me that they were always safe about their drinking and they all seemed to be accomplished, professional women, so I was happy she had a group of friends here. Moving away from her hometown and family must have been hard, but she’d really made a life for herself in the country. I wondered if I could become a permanent part of that life.