Turning a New Paige Read online

Delete with a giggle. She’d explained that to him so many times. He always had played dumb so he didn’t have to do chores. Serves him right. The next message was priceless.

  “I get it. You left and took your clothes without sorting or folding mine. You took my sweatshirt. You know the one you bought for me but wore because I didn’t like it? That’s okay I guess. But my jersey? My favorite lucky jersey? I need that for Sunday if my team’s gonna win. Come back and bring my jersey with you, Paige, or I will call your parents.”

  Her laughter turned silent at the part about her parents. “Jerk. Idiot. Pig.”

  Thankfully, the next message was from her mother.

  “Honey, the lug your brothers and father like called. I deflected him, saying I knew you’d disappeared. When he complained about some god-awful friggin’ jersey, excuse my French, I told him you must have taken it because it reminded you of him. I told him to be strong and to look up how to run the dishwasher and washing machines on YouTube. Honestly, I don’t know how you took care of that baby for so long. Then again, your father wasn’t much better in the beginning. Speaking of which, he’s heading home. Gotta rush. Remember to exercise. Love you.”

  The next voice message was from Chrissy. Odd. She was the blondest but hadn’t been the friendliest of their buddies, at least not to Paige. She had the thickest most insincere drawl.

  “I’m here now with Davis, and he seems very upset, Paige. Not nice of you to run off. I’m making him dinner. He is such a sweet guy. I don’t understand you. Not to mention, you seemed to have taken his favorite pan of yours. You could have left that—”

  Delete.

  “Oooh. Jerk. Idiot. The whole lot of them,” Paige said to the wall clock.

  “Called your home. Your mom answered and said she didn’t know where you were. Your dad is traveling. Did you go with him? Tell him I’m sorry to upset him… Can he still give me those tickets he promised?”

  Delete. Texts were next. The first text she didn’t delete.

  At least we should talk, when you’re ready.

  Then more texts followed.

  Will you come back if I tell you I’ll think about marrying you? That’s what JoJo, Stan’s fiancé said. She might be right. Talk to me when you are ready.

  “Really? Absolutely unbelievable,” Paige told the fireplace. She read the next text aloud as if telling a story, and answered it as she went. “‘Miss you, Paige. You’re probably just at Cailey’s since she won’t talk to anyone.’ Wrong, she’s away on business overseas. ‘I get it. You are punishing me for something.’ Wrong, again. Leaving you because we don’t fit.”

  There, she said it. No matter what happened with Groundhog Man. The truth just slipped out. She and Davis didn’t fit. Not now and not with each other. She paused and shifted, letting it all sink in. She finally made it to the last text from Davis.

  Called your oldest brother and told him that you were pouting off somewhere and told him to send you back along with all the items needed, especially my jersey.

  At that, Paige stood up and started to pace to work off steam. She kept saying things aloud, taking a few steps between each. “Never going to see that jersey again.” Pacing steps on the antique Persian carpet. “Do your own wash.” Stomping steps. “What a Jerk.” Fast stomping steps. “Idiot…jerk. Jerk who’s an idiot.” Paige stopped walking and stared at the settee. “What was I thinking? Not even that great in bed it turns out!”

  “Whoa.” Groundhog Man stepped into the room wide-eyed at the revelations she spewed to the parlor furniture. Heated, she swallowed hard, but instead of backing down from her tirade, she doubled down. Holding up her phone, she brandished it. “He’s a jerk! An idiot. A baby who needs his jersey blankie and doesn’t even know how to care for himself.”

  “Uh, and the bad in bed part…your ex and not…” He pointed to himself and shook his head with a grin.

  “No, not you. But then how would I know if we only did it once?” At that, her face flamed as it did so frequently near him.

  “C’mon, Flee.” He took her hand. “You can continue your tirade and explain it all to the furniture upstairs. I think the parlor heard enough.”

  “We all did,” called Mr. Hager from the other room. “Glad to know you aren’t bad in bed though, Michael.”

  Groundhog Man laughed. “Thanks. Practice makes perfect.”

  “Nice warning. I’m putting on the music…loud.”

  Paige followed Michael upstairs, leaving behind his coat, her shoes, and her frustrations. They had some practicing to do.

  Chapter Seven

  As soon as the door closed, Groundhog Man clicked the lock and moved to Paige. The sound of the lock signaled something inside her. With it, she knew what was coming but momentarily froze at the realization.

  Michael didn’t. His hands slid down her arms as his gaze locked on hers. One hand quietly reached for hers, pulling the cellphone out of her hand and putting it on the side table.

  “What about—”

  He did not let her finish her sentence and kissed her.

  “Mmmfff.”

  He kissed her again, silencing her. Then his hand slid around her waist under the cashmere sweater. He pulled her tighter to him, walking her backward to the bed. He caressed her supple skin while his lips parted, tongue pressing deep into her mouth. The kiss burned heated need into her. His fingers reached to her makeshift ponytail, holding her open mouth to his, kissing her more deeply. Her arms moved around him, hesitations long since melted away. She returned the fire of his hunger, grinding into him, moaning.

  He whispered, “You were saying?”

  “Was I?” Her voice came out foggy.

  He nodded slowly, letting go of her, and sat on the bed, patting the mattress with that luring smile. “But first, aren’t you too warm?” He motioned to her clothing.

  It was her turn to smile and nod. She pulled his borrowed sweater over her head, slightly loosening her make-shift braid in the process. His locked, heated gaze urged her to continue. She unbuttoned her blouse, and that fell from her shoulders landing on top of the sweater. The hazy daylight of the winter storm shined on her tanned skin. He reached out, pulling her to sit on the bed. His warm hand slid around her back.

  “Are your calls and meetings done, Groundhog Man…Michael?”

  “Yes. For now, it’s just me, you, this room…” He kissed her neck. “That storm…” His hand inched back around, fingers spread wide as he touched her stomach. “And something that needs attending to. After all, it’s February 2nd…”

  “I already told you happy birthday, but that didn’t go so well.”

  “Care to try again?” He undid the dental floss tie to her hair and shook the braid free, running his fingers through her hair. “Lucky for you, I am a forgiving man…eventually. Mmmmmm.”

  He kissed her lower on her shoulder, fingers dipping to the edge of her bra.

  Paige tugged the sweater off his body and added it to the pile of discarded clothing. She undid two buttons of his shirt, but he stopped her.

  “Happy birthday?” She kissed his nose. “Better?”

  He shook his head. She straddled him in her jeans and bra, unbuttoned one more of his buttons, and looked at him. One of his eyebrows raised up.

  She leaned and whispered, “Happy birthday.” She kissed his cheek. “Better?”

  “Closer.”

  She finished unbuttoning his shirt, ran her palms under his, across his taut chest, and kissed him slowly on the lips, drawing his body to hers. “Happy birthday, Groundhog Man. Too bad I don’t have a gift for you.”

  “You don’t?” His hands skimmed down her back and landed on her jean bottoms.

  “Ice.” Kiss. “Snow.” Kiss. “No chance to even buy you a cake. Did bring a sandwich though.”

  “I noticed. It was from Cookie for after.” He groaned, rocking her against his throbbing bulge.

  Her eyes rolled closed, and she murmured, “After?”

  “Mmm hmm. After we wa
rm up the bed. I have an idea for a gift. How about you take my birthday spanking for me.” His hand softly lifted and landed on her unsuspecting ass with a pop. He repeated the toying swat with his other hand on her other cheek.”

  “But it’s your birthday. I should be spanking you.”

  He shook his head. “The way I see it, Flee, you owe me a gift, not to mention recompense for that earlier little event during my video conference…”

  Light tap, tap.

  “It was a warm greeting,” she countered.

  He pulled her in and kissed her with a sudden, poignant deep open-mouthed need. It took her by surprise and sent her reeling. Mmm. She returned the kiss, and tendrils of longing flew through her as she unconsciously rubbed her pussy into his crotch, the seam stitching poised perfectly.

  “You’d do it? Take a spanking as your birthday gift to me?”

  “Mmm hmm,” she replied in a heady trance.

  He smiled, and before she knew what was happening, he spun her, angling her so her face was resting on a pillow on the bed and she was ass up across his lap. He leaned over her, hand rubbing her back. “I’ll go easy, Flee. Relax and hold the pillow.”

  Paige twisted. “I don’t know about this.”

  “Shh, just relax. If it gets too much, just say…what was that stuffed animal? Hedgehog?”

  “Hedgy.”

  “Okay, say, Hedgy. But don’t say it mid-set of strokes. Okay?” Before she could say anything, he continued, “Let’s see, I’m thirty-one and one to grow on.”

  “What about the four already?”

  “Thirty-three it is. No more complaints.”

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Rub. Tap. Tap. Tap. Rub.

  He barely touched her with each patting stroke. More playful than anything. As the patterned repeated, Paige relaxed and wriggled her bottom to his touches.

  “Not bad, is it?” he asked, his voice low and lusty.

  “Not at all.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Uh oh?”

  “I lost count, Flee. Let’s start again.”

  “Hey!” The pattern of tap, tap, tap and rub to each cheek through her jeans repeated. Paige didn’t complain that his swats became slightly firmer than the previous light pats.

  “How about we take your jeans off?”

  “Okay.” Paige climbed to her feet. “But that was eighteen. No pretending you lost count again.” She pulled off her jeans, blushing when she realized she was without underwear. She stood before him in her bra and his socks, hands hiding her lower parts.

  His eyebrows shot up, and his eyes glazed over.

  She shrugged. “My undies are in my iced-in car. Didn’t think yours would work on me.”

  He drew her into him and kissed her again, then helped her back across his lap. It became clear to her that her lack of panties was working well on him as his cock stiffened under her belly. One hand rubbed her ass, and one roamed up her back, relaxing her.

  He paused and built the anticipation by molding her cheeks in his hands. She wriggled against the warmth of his experienced touch.

  Suddenly, a firmer tap landed. Tap. Rub. Firmer tap, tap. Rub. His hand raised higher, coming down playfully but with an edge. Smack, smack. Pause. Smack.

  “Hey.” Paige squirmed, kicking her sock-covered feet before the next stinging smack landed.

  Groundhog Man sighed. “Flee, I told you not to interrupt the set. Now, we were at eighteen.”

  “No, no, no. We were at twenty-two.”

  “Okay twenty-two, but we go straight through then. No stopping. Hold on. Here goes.”

  Whether it was the warning or that she was naked bottomed across his lap, Paige’s heart raced and something odd was happening inside her. Her breathing huffed in little gulped gasps as his strokes began. The firmness of each landing smack was randomized as was the spot, until he hit three in a row with a thwack.

  “Yowww.” Paige kicked, reached back, and rubbed herself, surprised not to feel heat on her cheeks.

  “Oh Flee, you were so close.”

  “That one stung.”

  “A lot?” His hands rubbed and kneaded her thighs softly.

  Silence. “No, actually.”

  “Good. Not my intention, Flee. We need to redo the last ten, okay?” To urge a yes from her, his hand moved between her legs, cupping her pussy. He groaned as he squeezed her there.

  “Ohh.” Paige moaned.

  “Sounds like a yes to me, but I’m warm.” He helped her stand. He disrobed completely and turned down the bed covers. She took in the full view of him. Smooth olive skin across his sculpted chest. Toned body without being overdone. He gave no protest to her stare but nodded to her bra. She unhooked it and added it to the stack of clothes. He looked down at the socks she wore questioningly. She just smiled and shook her head. He laughed and pulled her back over his naked lap, his distended cock more than a distraction.

  “Here goes, Flee. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  He waited.

  Her breathing deepened.

  He still waited.

  “Yes. I’m ready. Ready for your birthday spankings.”

  “Good. Remember to keep it quiet.” His fingers brushed between her legs.

  “I wasn’t that noisy…ouch!” Her head went to the pillow. He did random hard thwacks interspersed with the light smacks, building speed and intensity. Her legs kicked up, and the fire somehow shot deep inside her core. Nerve cells ignited, sending unexpected tingles quivering into her belly. The heat of her skin pulsed through her. Not fully understanding why, she was wet and desperately ached for something. That something was his thick cock inside her.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he turned her over onto her back on the bed. His warm hands cupped her achingly swollen breasts, kneading as he kissed and nibbled his way to her nipples. She was crazed with need, drawing his head to her soft flushed skin, encouraging his touches and bites.

  His smooth, strong hand rubbed down her belly and finally reached the juncture of her thighs. She wriggled toward his touch. Slowly, teasingly, his fingers brushed her small trimmed patch in front of her mound. She was in anguish for relief. His mouth smothered her lips with a fiery kiss at the same moment his fingers tugged a nipple. Then and only then, did Michael slide two fingers to her mound, opening her and sinking into her achingly wet core.

  She cried out with a shudder. A dam broke loose inside her. His hungry lips stifled the noise but not the frenzied bucking of her hips. She squeezed and rode his fingers, begging him.

  “Please,” was all she could mouth.

  “Please what?” Michael teased.

  “Please take me, Michael. Drive up deep into me.”

  With her begging need voiced, he pulled his fingers from her with a lustfully glazed smile and shifted enough to reach for a condom. He bit it open.

  Paige’s breathing was nothing more than ragged gulps, chest rising with each gasped breath. He barely had the condom on his rigid cock before she pulled him to her. She was raw with need for him and he for her.

  Michael sank into her wet pussy, driving almost fully into her as her legs wrapped around him. Fire shot through her instantly. She convulsed around him but wanted even more. She was frantic, biting his neck and bucking up to meet his colliding stroke. And the next. And the next. Raw hungry lust poured out of her and was met equally by Michael.

  His rocking pulse became a fast frenzy, his hands interlocking with hers. Then he pulled out nearly all the way and kissed her. “Look at me, Flee.”

  She nodded, her eyes opened wide.

  “Ohh…Flee…my sweet Paige.” He called out her name in a long drawn out song. With that, he drove into her, hard and deep.

  Everything surged within her, and she exploded with him, her mouth open, her back arching, her body shaking, gripping…so lost. She willed her eyes open and gave voice to her release in a wailing, “Ahhhhh, Michael!”

  His mouth moved to hers, unable to quiet his own grunting cry.

&nbs
p; Eventually, their breathing slowed and the waves pulsing through Paige trailed off.

  With a final shudder, he brought her with him as he rolled to his back, enfolding her to the crook of his arm. “Wow.”

  “Uh huh,” Paige answered, breathless. Neither spoke. Neither quipped. For a time, the only sound was the ice pellets occasionally hitting the window.

  The clock radio cut the peaceful lull with a shout, “I got you, Babe!”

  She laughed, and his chest shook with a chuckle against her.

  They didn’t move to turn off the song right away, neither wanting to break the moment. Eventually, his hand reached over to hit the button. Eventually, the cover was pulled over them. Eventually, they twisted together in a wordless cuddle.

  Paige sighed, nuzzling into Groundhog Man. He kissed her forehead, actions speaking louder than words, as they rested.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hello?” Paige said to her cellphone. The ringing didn’t stop. She put down her phone and hit a button on the clock radio. Still ringing. She shook Groundhog Man. “Yours.”

  In response, he turned and pulled her to him. “Mmmmmm. Mine. Best birthday present.”

  She tried to pull free. “No. Your cell keeps ringing. Is it important?”

  That stirred him awake, and he padded naked to the desk. She leaned up in bed. Her eyes followed him, still taking in the fact that he was her… Even in her thoughts, she didn’t dare say lover.

  The sun was still up, such that it was, overshadowed by clouds. Early evening? She heard him clicking on his cell.

  Groundhog Man stood nude talking on the phone as he looked at Paige. “Hey, Cuz. Heard you called. Yeah, we were busy. I mean I was busy…” He grimaced at the laugh that must have come from the other end of the call. “Can’t believe you completely shoveled out her car. Perfect birthday present.”

  Groundhog Man smiled and gave Paige a thumbs up.

  “You the man! Yeah, I agree, would have been easier if we waited a day, but she… Uh huh. Yup, we need to move it to the garage so it won’t be ticketed and towed. Hey, is Sizzle open tonight?” He waited for the answer. “Then what is? Uh huh. Yes, that Indian place. More of a college hangout, but the food is great. Wait, let me put you on speaker.”