No More Laters Page 3

"Would we be able to go into town on Tuesday, do you think?" asked Jill. "I arranged to have something sent up."

  "Sure, I want to go to town anyway, so Tuesday's fine. Then there's the annual barbecue at the Longroh's on Sunday and the big New year's Eve party next week. I hope you weren't planning on having a restful holiday!"

  "Oh, that reminds me," joined in Elizabeth. "Mrs. Johnson phoned this morning to ask if you'd like to go carol singing on Christmas Eve. You remember that do you, Roo? It's the charity thing we do every year."

  "Did I hear you right?" Dave asked incredulously. "Someone asked Vicky to sing?"

  Michael patted him on the shoulder and stood up.

  "Obviously haven't heard her," he said, "but in case she's tempted to give us a demonstration, I think I'll take the dogs for a walk."

  "What a lovely idea," Vicky exclaimed, leaping to her feet and tugging on Alistair's hand. "Mind if we join you? Come on, darling. You coming, Roo?"

  "I'll be in it," said Dave following the sauntering figure of his older brother out into the rosy twilight.

  As they walked comfortably together, everyone seemed happy to let Vicky chatter on with no more than an occasionally solicited response.

  Back at last on the farm, Melbourne and her life there seemed to Jill to have taken on an unreal quality, just as when she was caught up in the hurry and flurry of urban life the farm seemed sometimes to be a place she had created in her dreams.

  She pictured her little flat in Camberwell, and despite her actually being quite fond of it, in her mind's eye it seemed poky and shut-in, surrounded as she now was by the vast flat plains of rural Australia.

  Her mind drifted to the people she knew in the city and she realized that, apart from her editor and friend, Tim, there was no one in the world that she would rather be with than the people who now walked beside her— dear Vicky, gentle Alistair, cheeky Dave, and Michael. Michael, who'd made her tremble just by standing next to her, who'd made her heart quicken with his welcoming kiss, who'd made her blush by reminding of her how he had spanked her in the past and by insinuating he might be planning to do it again. Vicky had been wrong in thinking that Jill and Michael had ever exchanged more than a light kiss in the past, but looking at his strong handsome frame now as he walked slightly ahead of her, Jill found herself imagining what it would be like to be crushed by those powerful arms and to be kissed properly by him.

  If his mother was right, Jill reflected, the girl on the adjacent farm had no doubt experienced his lovemaking. Well, good luck to her! Jill told herself, ignoring a small stab at the thought of Michael with a woman in his arms. Romance was definitely not in her plans at the moment, her passion was her work and she was quite happy for it to remain that way.

  As Jill mused to herself, Vicky had gradually become quieter and she and Alistair, their arms about each other, slipped back from the other three and were soon lost in their own little world some distance behind. Blue and Rebel, the farm's working dogs, ran ahead sniffing the scents of the scores of rabbits that had dug warrens in the sandy scrub country. In the twilight, plenty of rabbits were out seeking what sparse food they could find. There were many sightings and the dogs kept busy chasing first one and then the next. Suddenly, a startled rabbit broke right in front of them.

  "Grab him," yelled Dave, immediately giving chase and whistling to the dogs who were some distance away on a quest of their own. There was no chance they could catch the fleet little animal, but spurred by Dave's excitement Jill took off after him and Michael followed.

  There was a delicious, wild freedom in tearing across the paddock just keeping the fluffy tail of the rabbit in their sights. Jill, built lightly with long legs, was a fast runner but the two men quickly outpaced her. In less than a minute, the rabbit had disappeared but still the brothers ran, Dave whooping with delight and egging Michael on.

  "Getting slow in your old age, eh?" he called over his shoulder.

  "I'll have you any day," Michael responded, taking up the challenge and pushing himself harder still so that within the space of fifty metres he'd whittled down the younger man's lead and was in front.

  Jogging behind, Jill was again struck by the power and grace in his movements, and the image of his beautiful black stallion, Bushranger, sprang to her mind. What a pair they made, she thought, absolutely magnificent, undeniably male and potentially lethal.

  By the time she caught up with them, the brothers were seated on a fallen tree, their T-shirts wet with perspiration, their chests heaving from their recent exertion.

  "Ah, here's the slow-coach," chuckled Dave as she flopped between them on the log.

  "Whew, I'm exhausted," she exclaimed breathlessly, "and hot!"

  "Me too," agreed Dave, bounding to his feet once more. "In fact, I think I hear the pool calling. I'm for a swim. You two coming?"

  "I think I'll just wait a moment longer to catch my breath," Jill answered.

  "How about you, Mike?"

  "I guess I'd better stay and make sure the lady gets home safely— that is, unless you'd rather be alone," he added, turning to Jill, who, despite her familiarity with the farm and her deep love of it, didn't really fancy being out in the dark by herself.

  "Actually I'd be glad of the company," she told him.

  "Suit yourselves," yelled Dave, and with a loud, "Whooee, come on, dogs!" he was off, tearing through the heavy dusk towards the house.

  "As irrepressible as ever, I see," laughed Jill.

  "Afraid so," agreed Michael.

  They sat side by side in the silence, as their breathing returned to normal. Jill gazed at the sky, suffused with the richest oranges, golds, and pinks reflected up from the sun, which had sunk below the horizon.

  "I'd almost forgotten how incredibly beautiful it is here at this time of day," she murmured softly. "It's not hard to see why they call it the sunset country."

  "No," Michael agreed. "And it doesn't seem to matter how many times you see it, it's still hard to believe. I've seen it almost every night of my life and I never tire of it."

  "You're so lucky to have always had this wonderful place to live," Jill said.

  "Yes, I am," he agreed. "So, what about you? Where're you living now?"

  "In a flat. It's small but it's okay."

  "You live alone?" The question was deliberately casual.

  "Yes, I prefer it that way."

  "You work on a newspaper; I think Mum said?"

  "Yes, the Eastern Suburban Star. It's a small paper, dealing with community issues. Not very exciting or glamorous, I guess. I spend most of my time taking photos of buildings or kids playing sport or people celebrating their 100th birthday. That kind of thing."

  "Don't you like it?"

  "Oh yes. I didn't mean that. No, I love it really. And I get plenty of time to do my own photography as well, and I can use the paper's darkroom whenever I want, which is a bonus."

  "What else do you do in your spare time?" Again, that overly casual tone Jill didn't quite believe. She was clearly being questioned.

  "Not a lot. Photography and work take up most of my time. I had an exhibition recently and there was heaps to do for that. And I've just finished another project."

  Michael looked at her questioningly, but she didn't elaborate.

  "What about friends?" he persisted. Jill didn't miss the emphasis on the word 'friends.'

  "I have a few."

  "Boyfriends? Remember I told you earlier I wanted to hear all about your boyfriends?"

  Michael's allusion now to his earlier comments caught Jill by surprise, and reminded her, as no doubt he had intended, of his other previous allusion to his 'brotherly duties.'

  "Well, that's it," she said as brightly and dismissively as possible. "You've heard it all."

  "What?" Michael seemed momentarily confused. "Oh. I see, are you trying to tell me you don't have any boyfriends?" He didn't sound at all convinced.

  "That's right. I've really been much too busy to worry about boyfriends," she added
, wondering what business it really was of his anyway.

  "Well, I hope you're telling me the truth..." he said. "You know what will happen if I catch you lying to me."

  "It is the truth!" Jill retorted, angry at his insinuation that she was being dishonest and at his suggestion that he had the right to exercise any authority over her, and angry at herself for the way she trembled, the way the breath caught in her throat and the way her bottom tingled when he spoke to her in that way. "So, what about you?" she asked, deflecting the conversation away from her. "Anyone special in your life?"

  The question hung between them, and she realized she was holding her breath in the silence before he answered. She knew anyway, she told herself, as she waited for him to confirm what his mother had said she suspected. But he didn't speak, just looked at her for so long that she began to think he was never going to answer. Longer and longer, the silence drew out between them, and still she waited for his answer. Deny it, she found herself silently begging. Tell me it's not true.

  Suddenly, still without answering, he turned away, stood up and gazed out into the moonlit darkness, his back to her.

  "Is that a yes or a no?" She was surprised at how small her voice sounded.

  "I guess it's a maybe," he finally answered with a shrug, as though bored with the question.

  It must be true, then, Jill thought, feeling inexplicably miserable. "I think I'll go back now," she said, standing up too, the beautiful evening ruined.

  "Hey, what's the hurry," he called out as she set off briskly. Striding after her, he quickly caught up and, taking her by the shoulder, swung her round to face him. "I said what's the hurry?"

  "No particular hurry." She tried to keep her voice level, but couldn't quite keep the edge out of it. "You seemed to have lost interest in the conversation. I figured you probably have other things on your mind."

  "Well, you're wrong," he answered. "I had neither lost interest in the conversation nor have I got other things on my mind. Except maybe," he added, "turning you over my knee. I've been very tempted to do it ever since you came to dinner in those shorts. And while we're on the subject of spanking...."

  "Which we're not!" Jill tried to interrupt, but Michael continued as though she hadn't spoken.

  "If I remember rightly, the last time I tanned your arse was a couple of years ago. Anyone done it since?"

  "Of course not! No one else would have the gall," Jill told him hotly, meaning it as an insult and becoming crosser when she saw him grin with amusement. "And I'm not a little girl you can bully anymore either," she added spitefully.

  His eyes narrowed. "I've never bullied you, Roo. You know that as well as I, and I don't like to hear you say it." He took hold of her shoulders. "I don't deny I thoroughly enjoy spanking your bottom, but I've never done it for my pleasure, or I would have done it a lot more often than I have. I've only ever spanked you when I really believed it was in your best interest."

  Jill knew what he said was true. She hadn't particularly liked being spanked, but she had liked knowing there was someone who cared enough about her to do it. Finding out about his relationship with Rachel had upset her more than she cared to admit even to herself, however, and she felt like lashing out at him.

  "Well, even if that is true, I'm not a child anymore and it is none of your business what I do now."

  "It's my business, if I make it my business," he told her curtly, "and I'm beginning to think a trip over my knee right now might be in order."

  "No!" Jill snapped. "You can't just spank me because you say so. I'm 23."

  "Listen, Roo," he told her moving closer so her senses were overpowered by his strength and power. "If you misbehave, or do anything which I believe is to your detriment, I will spank you for it whether you want me to or not. You can be quite sure of that."

  "No, you can't!" Jill was determined to argue, but Michael was equally as determined not to.

  "Okay," he said grimly, tucking his arm around her waist and half-carrying her back to the log on which they'd recently been sitting. "I can see there is only one way to settle this matter of whether I can and will spank you or not."

  Horrified, Jill realized exactly what that way was, as he sat down and pulled her over his knee. She might be a bit taller and even a bit heavier now than she had been as a gangly 16-year-old, but Michael was also stronger and more physically mature than he'd been at 21. He had no difficulty taking her over his knee and holding her there with her legs caught between his and his left arm across her back.

  "Oh, please, Michael," Jill begged, unable to believe that she could find herself in this position again so easily. On the bus ride from Melbourne, she had thought about how he had spanked her on her last visit, twice, but she'd really believed that she would be too old for him to try it this time. Yet here she was, her first evening back, and she was lying over his knee staring at the ground again, with her bottom nicely positioned for him to spank. "Don't do this. Please don't."

  "It's a bit late for that, Roo, I'm sorry," he told her firmly, running his hand over her cut off denim shorts which didn't quite cover her bottom and gently squeezing the plump pouches which protruded from beneath. "Look at this. How you could walk around in this poor excuse for shorts with your delectable bottom poking out underneath like this and expect it not to get spanked is beyond me. However, as I said, I won't spank you just because I want to. This spanking I'm going to give you now is for snapping and snarling at me for no reason, as you just did, and to demonstrate that I can and will spank you if I deem it necessary. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Michael," Jill responded resignedly. She wasn't "snapping and snarling" for no reason. It was something to do with the way her emotions got tangled up when she thought about him and Rachel together, but she couldn't explain that to him when she couldn't even explain it to herself. And she could struggle all she wanted, but she knew he was quite right when he said he was able to spank her anytime he decided to. He was simply too strong for her to resist. Draped across his knee, her bottom half-exposed by her shorts, her hand clutching the bottom of his jeans, there was nothing she could do but submit to whatever spanking he decreed.

  "What about Vick and Ali? They might come." It was worth a try.

  "I don't think so. They went off on their own long ago. They're probably back at the house by now."

  "Don't spank me too hard, Michael," she tried one last ploy. "It'll show under my shorts."

  "Yes, I'd already considered that," he answered, adjusting her position and raising his right knee slightly to tilt her bottom higher. "Don't worry, I won't send you in to Mum and Dad with an obviously pink bottom, even though a good hard spanking is what you need. This one will just have to be a reminder and a warning for you to mind yourself. Next time, if there is a next time, I will give you a thorough spanking no matter what. Got that?"

  "Yes, Michael," Jill replied in a very small voice. There was no way she was getting out of this without having her bottom spanked, that was all too clear, but at least it wasn't going to be too hard and he wouldn't be able to spank her thighs.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the first thwack on her denim-clad bottom cheek. The covering afforded quite a lot of protection and there was no immediate sting. Perhaps, Jill thought to herself, her best plan was to submit as quietly and as co-operatively as possible and perhaps the spanking wouldn't be too long or too painful.

  "Oh," she grunted as his hand landed again, this time on her other cheek. Without the sting, it really wasn't unpleasant at all, in fact, she realized with a shock, it was actually very pleasant.

  No, she told herself furiously, as the third stroke landed, jiggling nerve endings and sending pleasure tingles through her most sensitive areas. He had no right to think he could just put her over his knee whenever he felt like it. She wasn't going to let herself enjoy any of this experience.

  "Um." Damn! She bit her lip as her reaction to the next spank came out sounding more like a moan. "You bastard," she cried angrily, c
ertain she had heard him chuckle. "Let me up," she demanded, wriggling as hard as she could to get away.

  "You what?" he asked. "What did you call me? Tut, tut, such language, naughty girl. Now that is going to cost you a proper spanking!"

  "No," wailed Jill, unable to believe she could have been so foolhardy as to swear at a man who already had her over his knee and was spanking her. "I'm sorry, Michael, please don't. I didn't mean to say it. Honest!"

  But her cries fell on deaf ears as Michael had already quickened the tempo. Her shorts no longer afforded her the same protection as his hand came down hard and fast, over and over again, each punishing stroke increasing the sting, which was now causing her bottom to burn. The increasingly distraught girl squealed and squirmed in a vain attempt to escape her punishment, but Michael held her firm as he spanked her.

  Slap! His big hand stung her thigh and then smack her other one.

  "No," cried Jill, gasping with the pain and shame. "It'll show," she managed to gasp as he spanked down both thighs and back up the inside on her most sensitive skin.

  "Well, you should have thought about that before you swore, shouldn't you?" he scolded her, turning his attention back to her covered bottom and finishing off with a flurry of hard, fast, sharp spanks.

  "Oh, no," she wailed loudly, big tears welling in her eyes as Michael fanned the fire he had started in her bottom. The sting was becoming unbearable and her self-control was rapidly fading, but just before she collapsed into tears he brought the punishment to an end. For a moment, he held her in position across his lap, gently rubbing her bottom and thighs.

  "Now then, little lady, I can and will spank you if I decide to. Is that now very clear? Or would you like to argue about it further?"

  "No," Jill muttered grudgingly.

  "Good. Well, I certainly hope I have made my point, but if you need more convincing we can do this again anytime you wish. Only next time, if there needs to be a next time, the spanking will be on your bare bottom. I'm getting tired of spanking your clothes."

  "No," Jill gasped horrified. He couldn't be serious. He'd never spanked her on the bare before. She had thought he had already humiliated her as much as was humanly possible, but the thought of having to bend over his knee with her bottom exposed made her realize it could still be worse if she wasn't very careful. Helping her to his feet, he gently brushed her hair from her face.