Her Old-Fashioned Husband Page 7

  “What did Austin do?” she asked. It all sounded like a crazy soap opera.

  “He was furious. They both said things that were hateful. Austin stormed out of our small apartment and drove off in his car. I never spoke to him again. A drunk driver went through a stop sign. They decided to turn off the life support five days later. I was devastated.”

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Frankie clasped him close, wishing she could take his pain into herself. “What about Roarke? He must have been devastated as well.”

  She couldn’t even imagine his pain.

  “He should be,” her normally compassionate husband snarled. “He killed him.”

  “Tom—”

  Tom stood and set her in the seat as he started to pace. “No, I don’t want to hear any defense of him. He might as well have taken a gun to Austin’s head and killed him. And now he’s here, why?”

  She knew he wasn’t really talking to her, but answered anyway. “Maybe he’s here to make things good with you.”

  Tom turned back to her. “Well, he can’t,” he growled. “Hell, when I heard he’d opened that club in Waco I thought he wouldn’t dare come any closer. What the hell was he doing in Bronwood?”

  “A BDSM club?” she asked.

  Tom nodded sharply. “He’s been steadily opening up clubs over Texas.”

  Frankie was frowning. This was so unlike her husband. Couldn’t he see how much Roarke must be hurting? That he’d only been trying to protect his brother.

  “He said he knew Brax, how?” Maybe Frankie could get in touch with him, see if she could ease this rift between Roarke and her husband. Of course, the easiest thing would be to get hold of that business card. She now knew why he’d given it to her; he was hoping to ease the way. Frankie wondered if he’d known who she was when he’d approached her. She didn’t suppose it mattered.

  Still, she didn’t like her chances of getting her hand on his card; she didn’t think Tom would be carelessly leaving it around. Although she supposed she could do some searching. Someone surely knew where to find him.

  I could always find his club. Visit him there.

  She held in a shiver.

  “Brax goes to his club sometimes in Waco,” Tom spat out. He stilled, staring down at her. “I want you nowhere near this man, understand me? You see him again then you cross the road and walk on the other side. You ignore him. You don’t talk to him. You don’t go anywhere near him. If I catch you even looking at him, I will take a switch to your butt.”

  “That’s hardly fair, Tom,” she protested in surprise.

  “I don’t care about fair,” he snarled. “You’ll do as I say.”

  Frankie stood, hangover forgotten. “Why? Because you man? Me woman?”

  He drew her close, pulling her against him. “No. Because you’re mine. Now get your butt into the shower. I want you naked, downstairs with your nose in the corner and your bare butt poking out in twenty minutes.”

  With a slap to her ass, he left the room.

  Chapter Four

  Frankie washed herself slowly. She wasn’t going to just hand herself up to him on a platter to discipline, was she? He’d never required her to stand in the corner before a punishment. Afterwards, sure. Personally, she figured he just liked staring at her red butt, but she’d never had to wait for a punishment that way, they were always given as soon as Tom could manage it.

  Stepping out, she dried herself and then stood in her bedroom, chewing at her bottom lip.

  She could put clothes on; refuse to do what he’d told her.

  She could climb back into bed, the way she really wanted to.

  But in the end she knew that she deserved this. The guilt was eating away at her stomach and she needed the relief a punishment would bring.

  So, naked and hung over, Frankie walked downstairs and moved to the only empty corner of the living room. Sticking her nose in the corner, she crossed her arms behind her back and widened her stance, sticking her bottom out.

  Frankie didn’t know how long she stood there before Tom came into the room, but she’d nearly stepped out the corner three times.

  “About time,” she muttered quietly to herself.

  Smack!

  “Ow,” Frankie cried, jumping at the heavy spank that landed on her butt.

  “Are you allowed to speak while standing in the corner like a naughty little girl?” Tom asked her.

  Immediately, she was flooded with the need to submit.

  “No, sir,” she replied softly.

  “Then hush.”

  She closed her eyes, her throbbing butt cheek a reminder to behave. It was easier to stand here now, even knowing he was staring at her naked butt, because this was what Tom required of her.

  “Come here, baby girl.”

  Frankie turned, blinking herself out of her semi-trance state. Tom sat on the sofa. She gulped as she got closer and saw what rested beside him.

  “Tom?” she questioned, her gaze caught on the hairbrush and paddle.

  He stared at her then down at the implements. He held up his hand. “A hand spanking for forgetting your dinner.” He then dropped his hand and picked up the hairbrush. “The hairbrush for hanging up on me.” He moved to the paddle. “The paddle is your morning spanking as part of your punishment two week punishment.”

  Frankie gulped. “You’re going to use a paddle on me twice a day for the next two weeks?”

  How the hell would she survive it?

  Tom shook his head. Relief surged through her. “Sometimes I’ll use my hand, sometimes the hairbrush or the belt.”

  Frankie whimpered.

  Tom patted his lap. “Lay yourself over my lap and we’ll begin.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  Tom simply stared at her. “Don’t you want to get rid of that guilt rolling in your stomach?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “But can’t you just do it? Can’t you just pull me over my lap?”

  “No, baby,” he told her. “I know that’s what I’ve done in the past, but I’m pushing you further now. I want more and I know that you do to. You can do this, Frankie. Give us what we both need.”

  Tears started rolling down her cheeks as she stepped forward and positioned herself over his lap. When she was settled, Tom rubbed her back until her tears dried. She wiped her cheeks against her hand.

  “I’m very proud of you, Frankie,” he crooned. “My brave, beautiful girl. Do you know how gorgeous you are when you submit to me? Remember it’s not a sign of weakness; its being strong enough to admit what you need and going for it. There are so many people who are too scared, but not my Frankie. This is going to be hard on you, honey. I can’t go easy. I have to make an impression because I will not survive another night the way I spent last night. I want you to hold onto the sofa arm and don’t move your arms. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good then we will begin.”

  His hand landed sharply, heavily. He moved swiftly, quickly covering the whole of her buttock in smarting spanks.

  Frankie dropped her head, tears forming as her butt started burning, throbbing.

  Oh, God, would he never stop? She was all too aware of the rest of her punishment to come, but it seemed like Tom wasn’t taking that into consideration. He was giving her one hell of a hand-spanking.

  “When I tell you to eat regularly, Frankie, I expect you to obey me,” he told her, pausing briefly. “I don’t tell you these things just to order you around; it’s for your health. Now, you have thirty more and they’re all going on your thighs. I expect you to keep your legs still.”

  Frankie cried out as he started spanking her thighs. Pain engulfed her, radiating through her. She had to work hard to keep her legs still when all they wanted to do was kick and move out of the way of his punishing hand.

  He stopped. “Will you be forgetting to eat again?” he asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “Good, because this is a light spanking in comparison to what you’ll get next time. I take your health very seriously, Frankie.”

  “I-I know,” she sobbed.

  “Okay then, I think you’ve learned your lesson. We’ll move onto the hairbrush. This part of your punishment is about respect, Frankie. For me and for our relationship. I would never disrespect you by hanging up on you. It’s childish, immature and I never want it to happen again, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Frankie was crying softly, unable to stop herself.

  “Good. I want you to count these out and ask me for the next. You have thirty coming.”

  Smack!

  The paddle landed, excruciating against her already roasted bottom.

  He stilled and Frankie caught her breath frantically.

  “One. May I have another please sir?” she asked.

  By the he reached thirty, Frankie was unable to count, her breath stolen by the punishing force of the paddle. Luckily, Tom seemed to have sensed her issues and finished the count for her.

  Huge, heartfelt sobs jumped out of her lungs as he turned her, holding her, letting her bury herself against his chest. This was the only part she enjoyed about a spanking, the cuddling afterwards when she felt so safe and protected within Tom’s arms.

  “Come on, baby. I think it’s time you had a nap.”

  She whimpered in protest as he moved, rising with her still held in his arms. “I just got up.”

  “I know, but you didn’t get much sleep last night and I bet you haven’t slept well since I left. I want you to take a big nap and then you can snuggle on the couch with some hot chocolate and watch TV, okay?”

  She yawned, surprising herself with how tired she felt.

  “Okay,” she muttered reluctantly. “You know, I’m too big for you to be carrying me around.”

  “You weigh nothing.”

  She stiffened, chewing at her lip. Tom reached the bedroom and put her on her feet as he pulled back the covers. “In you get, love.”

  Frankie lay on her stomach and he pulled the covers over her.

  “You make me so happy.” He ran his hand over her hair. “I’m going to go and get you something to eat and drink, then you’re going to have a big sleep. I need to go out for a little bit. I don’t like leaving you home alone, but I won’t be long and I expect you to stay in this bed.”

  “Where you going?” she asked, rubbing her hand over her eyes.

  “I have to pay someone a visit. I’ll be back soon with some food.”

  *****

  Tom stood in the foyer of Decadence, waiting as one of the door men called up to Roarke. He knew Roarke would see him; he wouldn’t be able to resist. Tom was impatient, though, he’d already been gone from Frankie for an hour. He’d driven as quickly as he could to Waco, but he still had a return trip to make. He hoped she stayed asleep, she was worn out and he didn’t want her curiosity to flare up.

  “Tom, I thought you might visit.”

  Tom glanced up and looked into the face of the man he’d once considered to be an older brother. He looked older, but on him the gray appearing around his temples and the extra lines on his face made him look more distinguished. His blue eyes stared at Tom calmly as he leaned against a doorway, arms crossed loosely over his large chest.

  Damn, he was still a large, muscular bastard. Tom had hoped by now that he’d run to fat, he must be nearing forty.

  “You going to continue to stare at me all afternoon or would you like to come inside?”

  With a snort Tom started forward, following Roarke as he turned and walked through the passage behind him.

  “Decadence is a bit of a cliché name, don’t you think?” Tom sneered, while inwardly he winced. Damn, one minute in this man’s presence and he was reduced to a rebellious teen. Where was all his control?

  Roarke just looked over his shoulder at him coolly. “It fits the club. People come here to indulge their fantasies.” He led Tom into an empty bar. It was done entirely black—black tables, black furniture and fixtures. The only color was dark maroon carpet and drapes.

  “Jesus,” Tom muttered.

  “Something wrong?” Roarke asked with what looked like amusement in his eyes. “You don’t like the furnishings?”

  “Like I said before, clichéd. Don’t you have anything original in here?” Tom challenged. On the one hand he was a bit appalled at his behavior. But the other part of him didn’t care. This was the bastard who’d taken his best friend from him.

  Roarke moved behind the bar. “I give people what they expect. This club isn’t as hardcore as some of my other clubs; we have open nights a few times a week and run training classes. Drink?”

  Tom sneered. “Well, aren’t you Mr. Wonderful? Still helping out all the little newbie Doms. Tell me, does it help you sleep better?”

  Roarke looked at him calmly. “No, it doesn’t. Nothing helps me sleep. All I see when I close my eyes is my little brother racing out the door, knowing I can stop him and I don’t. How are your dreams?”

  Tom swallowed his sorrow, his surprise at the pain in Roarke’s eyes. He knew the other man must be suffering, but his own anger had suppressed his empathy for Roarke. He wanted that anger, needed it.

  He needed someone else to blame. He couldn’t carry it all himself. It would drown him.

  “I didn’t come here to talk about sleeping patterns. I came here to tell you to stay away from my wife.”

  Roarke raised an eyebrow. “She was a woman alone outside a club, looking distressed. You expected me to just leave her there?”

  Tom fought hard to maintain his anger. “You knew she was my wife, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. I’ve seen the photos you sent my mother. They’re proudly displayed on the mantelpiece.”

  Tom swallowed back tears at that. “You had no business approaching her, what were you hoping to use her to get to me?”

  Roarke eyed him. “Well, if I had it’s worked, hasn’t it? Because here you are, filled with righteous anger. I didn’t search your wife out. I was merely in the right place at the right time.”

  “Do not bring my wife into this. I don’t want to see you or talk to you. I am not going to forgive you.” Even as he said the words, pain bloomed. He’d held onto his anger so long, but now faced with Roarke, he remembered the anguish and horror on the other man’s face as they’d heard how bad Austin was hurt. Heard him cry as they’d turned off the life support. Tom had blocked all that out in his need to blame the other man. It was the only way he could keep going.

  Now, a part of him was wondering if that was fair. He shook off his doubts.

  “Stay away from her. I catch you near her and I will call the cops. She’ll be under orders to do the same.”

  “But will she obey you?” Roarke asked softly as Tom turned to leave.

  Tom turned back. “Yes.”

  Roarke raised a brow in that infuriatingly superior way he had. “Really? So she had permission to be out at that nightclub on her own? While you were away? With no plan to get home? You allow your sub a lot more leniency than I thought you would.”

  “She’s not my sub, she’s my wife.”

  “She can be both,” Roarke told him with amusement. Damn him.

  “Well, she’s not.” Well, Frankie submitted to him when it came to her health and safety. Although, submitted might be too strong a word. She knew if she broke the rules, he’d blister her butt. Whether she obeyed was up to her and her wish to sit for the next week.

  Tom wondered why he was telling Roarke this. But then Roarke had always been his confidant. His mentor.

  “Do you think that’s wise? She clearly needs a guiding hand. She’s pushing herself so hard that she’s self-destructing.”

  Tom ground his teeth. “What the hell do you know about it?”

  “I know that she feels like she has to be this perfect wife, or what she thinks a perfect wife should be. She’d trying so hard to be everything she thinks you need, a wife, a housekeeper, a mother, that she’d nearly exhausted herself. It’s no wonder she went off the rails, she’s wound up tighter than a jack-in-the-box. That’s your fault, you know. If you were keeping a proper eye on her you would know how worried she is that you’ll leave her.”

  Tom gaped at him. He’d spoken to Frankie for less than an hour and he’d discovered all that? Tom had been married to her for nearly a year and he was only just coming to realize how insecure she still was.

  “She told you all that?”

  Roarke nodded. “She was rather upset. She needed someone to talk to. She should have come to you, but she’s terrified of scaring you off. You need to show her that no matter what you’ll be there for her.”

  Anger suffused him. Most of it aimed at himself, but some it spilled over onto the smug bastard sitting before him.

  “Stay out of my life and away from my wife.”

  “I’m worried about her,” Roarke told him, as though he’d known Frankie for years. “When I saw her outside that club she could barely stand.”

  Although there was no discernible criticism in his voice or face, Tom nearly winced at his words. Anger flared. “Well, by the time I’m through with her, she will regret every moment of it. She won’t be sitting comfortably for quite a while.”

  “Ahh, well, I see you haven’t given everything up that I taught you.”

  Tom flushed a bit. “She responds best when she has boundaries and structure.”

  “Like a true submissive. You could bring her here. Train her.”

  “No.” Tom looked around him. “You know I never truly enjoyed any of this. I kept coming back for Austin. And this is definitely not the place for Frankie.”

  He meant it. He didn’t need to bring Frankie here or to another club. In fact the idea of others seeing her, watching her, it filled him with possessiveness.

  -->