Both my father and I had had an appreciation for big old houses, instilled early in us by our Russian heritage and the love for architecture. New Orleans most certainly had its share of houses that were beyond awe-inspiring, and Anthony owned one of them.
I had never imagined entering this house in such a state, with a spanking hanging over my head—one that was coming from Anthony himself, no less! He hadn’t changed the house or the furnishings a bit since the last time I’d gotten spanked there.
Anthony saw my face and grimaced. “Are you thinking about the impending doom of your situation? Or something else? Your father?” he asked softly, a sudden sadness settling on his face.
I could only nod solemnly.
“It’s okay for us to think about him, to talk about him,” he softly said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “He can’t be our constant elephant in the room.”
“I feel guilty.” I was fighting back tears.
“He was the last person in the world who judged. He would make damn sure my head was in the right spot rather than my cock, and he would oversee us in every way… but he wouldn’t begrudge this. Not if it’s what we wanted.”
I nodded again. “You’re right. He loved you and would love knowing you were stepping in as my guardian,” I said with a side eye. “I just wonder if you and I are both lying to ourselves to make this situation right.”
Anthony gave me a little squeeze, and softly kissed me on the forehead. “There’s no easy solution, no answer. All we can do is move ahead at a pace that feels right and see if this is what we both want. What we both need. Though I feel we both know that answer already.”
I looked up into his eyes and matched his warm smile. “What do you think Father would say right now?”
He chuckled. “He’d feel really bad for you since he knows what’s in store for your poor butt.” He released a belly laugh, which was just what was needed to break the morose mood that had been set.
I shoved him playfully and feigned annoyance. “Anthony LaSalla!”
He took a few steps toward the double doors to his study, then turned and crooked his finger at me. “Come here, Raychel. And don’t even think of bolting back out that door, because if I have to chase you, it’s going to be that much worse.”
I hadn’t been thinking that, but his comment made me wish I had. I had been too deep in my memories to remember that the health and welfare of my ass was on the line here. And there he was, standing there crooking his finger at me as if he were going to give me a gift or something when I joined him in his study.
My hands went automatically to my bottom while he stared at me, trying to protect what could not be protected, at least not from him, apparently. I walked past him and into the study that way, standing nervously in front of his desk while he drew the curtains closed on the big bow and side windows.
Chapter Eight
Anthony
I realized that this needed to be done quickly. If I gave her too much time to think about it, she’d turn tail and run, and I didn’t want to have to be chasing her halfway down the street. So I took one of the straight-backed chairs—one of the leftovers from my dining set—and put it in the middle of the cream-colored Persian rug. Since there was only me except when I entertained, I didn’t need all of the eight chairs that had come with the antique carved oak table, so some of them had ended up in the foyer, a couple in my study, and one in the bedroom. Their dual purpose had always made me smile secretly when I looked at them scattered around the house.
I tugged on Raychel’s arm, and she resisted, though not as much as I’d expected. She oofed a little when I laid her over my lap, and that thing that only seemed to happen with her now had happened again, and there was no way she was going to mistake what was poking boldly into her belly. I decided to ignore it—as much as was possible. I knew that if I mentioned how hard my cock was and how badly I wanted to fuck her, she would dissolve right into the floor. It was best to just concentrate on the matter at hand.
It had been a long while since I’d had a beautiful lady over my lap. I had almost forgotten the feeling, but I couldn’t take the time to luxuriate in it either. She needed to learn who was boss, and I intended to get the message home as quickly and efficiently as possible. One thing I knew was important in a future relationship with Raychel, was to always follow through with the threat of discipline. Consistency was of utmost importance, or the whole respect issue for me as someone she could count on and rely on became wishy-washy.