Rare: A BBW Romance (The Cass Chronicles Book 4) Page 6

  The roof was finished as they lost daylight. Early November in Alaska means daylight is a rapidly diminishing resource. By 6:30 pm tools were packed away and Cass faced feeding the working horde for a second time. She had prepared for this by throwing some moose ribs in the oven with the meat loaf. She had braised them in red wine and served them alongside a mountain of mashed potatoes. She had decided that there was no point in publishing a recipe for moose ribs. Other than being an object of curiosity it wasn't something that her readers were ever likely to do.

  Unlike lunch, they set the table, Cass might not be from a small town, but she had been raised by a mother and a grandmother who would never ever have let her send away people who had helped them for hours without a full belly. She smirked at the thought of her mother sawing moose ribs. It was an image of paradoxes—Barb’s silver page boy, sweater set and a big ass saw. Hilarious.

  The air had turned very chilly. Slick Trenchians were well used to working in the bitter cold but everyone was grateful for the hot meal. Killian held up his beer. “We don't know what we do without you guys, thank you so much.”

  Wyatt (or maybe Wendell) raised his can of soda. “Our pleasure. The Nelsons have helped all of us at one time or another.”

  Hazel left her plate and walked around the table to kiss the man on the cheek. “Thank you, Westin,” she said.

  “Westin?” thought Cass. “I had the right letter at least….”

  Danny, the drywaller, held up a hand. “I’ll organize drywall. Who can be here the day after tomorrow?”

  All around the table hands went up. A man that Cass knew by sight, and really she had no excuse not to know his name—there were less than a 100 people in the entire town—leant in. “Boys,” he addressed himself to Killian and Torsten, “Hazel,” he glanced towards Cass and Lloyd, “and um, all of y’all. Johan was always the first there if you needed him. When my arm was broken in ‘98 I looked outside one day and there he was chopping firewood for me.”

  The boys were clearly choked up as around the table, neighbors shared stories of how their father had helped them. Once again, Cass wished she had met her father-in-law, but he had passed on the year before she had responded to Killian’s email and found herself in Slick Trench. Cass wondered how Lloyd felt about this lionizing of his adored wife’s previous husband. He was holding Hazel’s hand while she basked in the affection her family inspired in their neighbors.

  The Rictus Reckoning

  After the goodbyes, the Nelsons cleared the table and Cass got the dishes done. She made it upstairs and found Killian dozing on their bed. She kissed him gently on the forehead. His eyes opened. “You disobeyed me.”

  Her hands instinctively went back to cover her bottom. It wasn't just that she could still feel hot stripes from the belt, although she could. It wasn't just that the muscles where her ass melted into her thighs ached, although they did. She was spent. It had been an exhausting evening. “Please, please don’t spank me, honey.”

  Killian looked exhausted. He hauled himself up so he was leaning against the headboard. “You cannot just ignore what I tell you.”

  “I know. I'm sorry.”

  He rubbed his tired eyes. “Bring me your Kindle.”

  She had no idea what he was doing, but it worried her. She had abandoned Jocelyn and Lord Ruttington/the masked bandit on the road and hoped that they would both be eaten by rabid coyotes. She had downloaded a new book that looked much more promising. The Unbraiding of Anna Brown did not feature a chiseled man with his face in the shadows while a naked woman knelt in front of him. The cover was of a long blonde braid. It was intriguing and the reviews described it as a sweet sexy romance about a young woman and a widower. The reviews mentioned the love story and the hot spankings. Altogether, she was looking forward to reading it. Dammit. She retrieved her Kindle from the night stand.

  She handed it to him. He cocked his head at her. “You get ready for bed.”

  Feeling a little nervous, she put on her pajamas and a pair of thick socks. She slid into bed beside him. He held up the Kindle. “Watch this.” A documentary on tetanus began to play. Cass gasped as a victim arched backwards so violently that bones snapped. A voiceover described the bone breaking convulsions as “rictus.” The images of a person with lockjaw were harrowing. She caught her breath as the video moved in front of her horrified eyes. When it finished, she buried her face in her husband's chest. “I'm sorry, honey. I was just careless. I just didn't realize how serious it could be.”

  “Don’t defy me again. I am less apt to be this exhausted next time.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.”

  He lay the Kindle on his bedside table. She was considering asking him if she could read a little before they fell asleep, when he seemed to read her mind. “No. it’s been a long day. You worked your ass off and tomorrow won’t be much easier.”

  “Well, it’s not like I was up on the roof. I only cooked.”

  “Only,” he said with a smirk. “At least some of those people showed up because they hoped you were cooking.”

  His wife laughed. “Doubt it.”

  His large handed connected with her upturned bottom sharply. “Well, don’t. It's true. I’m very proud of you.”

  Even without her precious Kindle in her hands, she easily fell asleep.

  Parentus Interruptus

  She woke up to discover that Killian was already up. Probably by hours, she surmised. She padded down to the kitchen, planning on grabbing a cup of coffee and then returning upstairs to shower and get dressed. She discovered her husband unloading the dishwasher while coffee percolated on the counter. “Morning, babe, Ma and Lloyd have gone into town.”

  Surveying the clean kitchen, she gratefully wrapped her arms around his waist. “My God, I love you.” she whispered.

  He reached back around her and cupped her bottom with his hands. “Right back at ya, baby.”

  She was delighted to feel his erection pressing against her. Being irresistible rocked. Setting down her cup of coffee, she reached back and stroked him. His lips were hot on her neck. She whirled to face him and pulled him closer to her. Decisively she unbuckled his belt and pushed him to the ground. She whipped off her PJ pants with a stripperesque move and with a flourish straddled him impaling herself with one hard thrust. His hands grasped her thighs as he pumped underneath him and she arched her back like she was riding a mechanical bull.

  Killian reacted to the voice before she did, reflexes honed by years of tracking animals. It was the voice of her nightmares. “Yoo hoo—kids,” her mother's voice sailed tinnily on the air. Cass leapt off her husband so fast that for a split second she was afraid she’d broken his cock off. Killian was able to hoist his jeans up while Cass hustled into the pantry to put her pants on. She had forgotten they were arriving. Barb had returned to teaching and her school was now on some inexplicable calendar. It seemed to her daughter that every other week school was closed. Barb and Ken had come to spend the week before Thanksgiving in Slick Trench.

  “I’m so sorry, we didn't meet the ferry,” Cass heard Killian say.

  “Oh it’s fine, that nice girl from the pizza place ran us over.” Only Barb would ever think any of the girls who worked at Slick Trench Pizza were “nice.” Cass grabbed the first thing she could reach and tried to saunter nonchalantly out of the pantry. “Hi, Mom, hi, Dad. I was just grabbing something for lunch.”

  Her father’s brow furrowed as he looked at what was in her hands. “Lightbulbs?”

  “Well, I need light to cook anything else.” She was a terrible liar, prone to giving too many details and nervously speaking a mile a minute. Her dad patted her shoulder as she kissed his cheek. She tried not to notice as he glanced up at the light fixture, which clearly didn't need a light bulb.

  Ken reached for his son-in-law's hand. “How’s the new building?”

  “Empty—we don't have drywall or floors done.”

  Ken was shocked. “I thought it was supposed to be
done weeks ago?”

  “It was,” answered Killian grimly. He carried his in-law’s bags out to the cottage where they would stay and Cass ran upstairs to get dressed. Hazel and Lloyd and Torsten and Libby joined them all in the main room around the fireplace. While Lloyd poured Bloody Mary’s Ken said, “That’s a nice looking roof. Good work.”

  “Not me,” said Lloyd. “I can barely swing a hammer.” Killian and Torsten looked shocked. Being capable was simply their default way of living. Hazel stood and squeezed her husband's arm. “And just as well, old man—I don't want you up there.”

  “Well, in Alaska I’m about as useful as tits on a rooster,” he said ruefully. It dawned on Cass that the reason Lloyd had stayed away from the roofing is that he felt out of place. She understood the feeling.

  CassCooks Blog post

  Stop the Cilantro Madness

  This is a spritely way to feed a large group of people. It uses an inexpensive cut of meat and is flavorful, and delicious.

  A confession—the first step in this recipe is to build a time machine. Go back three days. We are making a Cuban pork roast. This pork roasts most famous (and justly so) application is the Cuban sandwich—but tonight, dear friends, we are serving this as a main dish. Tomorrow we’ll make the sandwiches. Now the first thing you will notice is that if you have ever made a similar recipe, is that this one contains no cilantro. That’s because cilantro is awful. If Satan peed on crabgrass it would become cilantro. Apparently, there is a gene that causes one to recognize that cilantro tastes like soap. Which means that the rest of you are wrong. If you want to add great grassy, bitter handfuls of the stuff to this perfectly lovely recipe, go ahead, but it's on your head, not mine. I have no suggestions on amounts. If someone asked me if they could add poison ivy to a recipe I would say, “If you want to,” but I would have no idea what the correct amount would be.

  My parents have arrived to visit before Thanksgiving. As always it’s wonderful to see them. My dad wants to go hunting for the first time. (I know lots of people disapprove of hunting, but those people do not live in Slick Trench.) My mom is loving teaching this year—but she says she does need a break from the third grade! It’s a wonderful gift to have so much of our families around us.

  Keep it Delicious!

  Cass

  The Slick Trench building machine was back in motion. Workmen and women were moving in and out of the new building. Every man in a fifty mile radius except for her father-in-law was hard at work dry walling.

  She had posted her blog post and was refilling a dejected Lloyd’s coffee when Killian walked in and threw his work gloves on the table. The gloves were filthy, her table was not, but one look at her husband's face and Cass stifled any thought she had of reprimanding him. “The flooring guy is an idiot.” He slumped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. The dimensions of the room are seventy feet by fifty feet. But the tile he ordered comes in eight and a seventeenth inch squares—and the trim tile is three and 5/9ths inches. He has no idea how to calculate the way to grid the tiles.” Cass handed him a cup of coffee. “Honey, I'm sorry.”

  The sudden slamming of a door startled Cass. Lloyd had hurried out of the kitchen to the construction site. The former accountant had something to offer. Killian took a leisurely sip of his coffee. Cass was a little confused. He had seemed so worried about it a minute before. She was filling her own cup and about to ask him just what was going on, when Hazel hurried through the kitchen. She paused for the briefest of seconds and kissed her oldest son on the top of the head. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for what?” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. Cass was slow on the uptake, but she suddenly understood. Killian and Hazel were in cahoots to make Lloyd feel needed.

  “Innocent doesn't suit you,” said his adoring wife. He blew her a kiss as he headed out the door to watch Lloyd save the day.

  Cass stretched out in the tub and gave herself over to Unbraiding Anna. The descriptions of life on a ranch in the days before electricity and running water sucked her in. She loved the stern but wounded Carter. She gave a sigh of satisfaction when she reached the chapter where Anna was spanked by Carter.

  She took a deep breath. She wanted this, she reminded herself, though she couldn’t exactly recall why at that very moment. With Carter’s guidance, she laid herself across his hard thighs and scooted into a comfortable position. She was glad he couldn’t see her face, which she was positive was the color of a tomato. Her braids hung down and the ends touched the dust and hay on the ground. Carter anchored his left hand around her waist and settled his right hand on her bottom. His hands on her body sent desire coursing through her. How could she want something so much and be so afraid at the same time?

  Exactly, thought Cass. That’s it exactly. Amelia Smarts had captured the mental gymnastics Cass went through with every spanking. She dried herself off with a towel and wandered into the bedroom to seduce her sexy spanking husband. Killian was stretched out, plans laying on his chest, sound asleep. Cass moved the plans to the bedside table, unlaced and pulled his work boots off. Pulling a blanket out of the closet, she covered him up and turned the lights off. It had been a long day. Even as horny as she was, she fell asleep almost immediately.

  The entire family trooped out to admire the mostly finished building. The progress was astounding. The main floor consisted of one large room with a huge stone fireplace and wide banks of windows. The tile was perfectly done and made the room look even bigger. The kitchen was large and featured wide shelves for pots and pans. The cabinets had been installed and covered with the marble countertops. The holes where the appliances would go sat empty as eye sockets. Behind the kitchen was a wide storage room that would hold chairs and folding tables and other supplies. The stairs had been installed, although the drywall and carpet had not been done upstairs. Those rooms would include dressing rooms where the bride and grooms could get ready, and rooms for massages and yoga classes—all of which made the “boys” roll their eyes violently. Those rooms could wait.

  The Reading Respite

  All hands were on deck for painting. Barb emerged from Hazel's cottage wearing a pair of Hazel’s overalls that fit her like capris. Lloyd set to work doing the taping around the windows. His detail oriented nature was perfectly suited for this. The day was cool, but not cold so they opened the windows and doors. They would celebrate Thanksgiving as a family but had invited all of their helpers over for pie after dinner. They wanted to be able to host in the new hall. Cass was a terrible painter. She dripped, she missed spots, she left brush marks. She put in a good effort though, until Libby said, “God, you suck—go make lunch.”

  She should be offended, but it was true. She would rather make lunch. She put some water on to boil and fetched her Kindle. She browned sausage with one hand, while holding her reader in the other. She returned to the hot scene where Anna asked Carter to spank her because it made her feel cared for.

  Anna couldn’t believe how well he understood her feelings. He understood them better than she did. “Did I get all of that right?” “Yes, sir.” “In that case, young lady, you’re about to learn just how much I care about you because I’m going to punish you for putting yourself in harm’s way on several occasions.” He raised his voice a notch. “You’re never going to be reckless again, unless you want to find yourself in this same position. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir.” Carter spanked her then without speaking. His hand came down again and again at a medium, steady tempo. After a few minutes he stopped.

  Cass felt the moisture between her legs. The idea of being spanked for her own good had been her go-to fantasy for her entire life.

  Barely catching the onions before they scorched, she poured some water over them and returned to her book.

  “Why won’t I tolerate your reckless behavior, Anna?” “I don’t know,” she whimpered. She felt the sting of the spanking now. “It hurts, Carter.” Carter resumed spanking her. “You’re getting punished, so it’s supposed to hu
rt.”

  What was it about a man saying that that touched a woman’s soul? It should seem mean, dismissive. It did not. It opened up the heart like nothing else did.

  Carter continued, “Furthermore, you do know why I won’t tolerate it because I told you not five minutes ago. Not answering my question will only make it worse for you.” Carter continued at a faster pace with firm swats that were not very hard but that built up a sting when layered on top of each other. She squirmed on his lap and let out small noises of protest. He slowed and the swats became harder. “This is for telling me you wanted to walk home in the dark.” Spank. “This is for disobeying my order to rest the other day.” Spank. “And now, I’ll ask you again. Do you know why I won’t tolerate your reckless behavior?” He paused to listen. Anna groaned. She knew the right answer was ‘yes,’ followed by the explanation that it was because he cared about her, but she was embarrassed to say it.”

  Cass felt her cheeks warming. “The ones on my face,” she thought with a chuckle. She knew exactly how the young, vulnerable Anna felt.

  It felt strange to be the one to say it. She also felt that the spanking might end as soon as she answered the question correctly, and she wasn’t ready for it to end. She couldn’t understand why being over his lap and vulnerable to pain was exactly what she wanted, but she knew she wanted to feel Carter’s power and for him to truly punish her.

  Cass wondered about the author Amelia Smarts, how did she know this feeling so well?

  She wanted to see just how far he would take it, and she wanted to put her trust completely in his hands. “No, I don’t know,” she said in answer to his question.

  Silly girl, and yet Cass could well understand it.

  The swoon worthy Carter continued, “Sounds to me like you need your bottom to be a whole lot sorer than I’d originally intended.” The swats rained down hard and fast. “And believe me, I’m more than willing to blister your bottom if that’s what you need. Is that what you need, young lady?” He ignored her protests and denials as he collected her wandering wrist in his left hand, pinned it to her side, and held her body tight against his.