Page 33 of Passionate Defense

“How bad is my Z?” Lanie asked, although she dreaded the answer. “Will she live or be totaled?”

“Depends if the frame is bent. You’ve got a busted radiator, and the whole front end: fender, hood, and both front quarter panels are all badly damaged. So yeah, I’m betting it’ll be totaled.”

Since his car more closely resembled a sauna than a sedan, he shut off the heat before pulling into the still slow-moving traffic.

“I loved that car. This sucks.”

“The tow truck driver and police officer said there was barely any tread on your tires, which caused you to hydroplane.” His voice was flat and controlled as he pulled a yellow paper out of his pocket. “Here’s your ticket for faulty equipment. Didn’t you tell me you were going to get new tires several weeks ago along with your regular service?”

“Yes...”

“I hear abutyou’re not saying.”

“I got busy and forgot.”

“You forgot,” he repeated without inflection, then he lapsed into silence.

One thing about her husband, he was as cool as a cucumber. When angry, he rarely raised his voice. He usually did the opposite and got quiet, like now.

Sometimes she wished he would yell and curse, letting it all out, as he was always trying to get her to do. The difference, he found a healthy outlet for his anger and frustration, most often running or going to the gym to work the heavy bag.

They drove in silence for the thirty minutes it took to get home. When he pulled into the garage, the automatic door glided down, sealing them in. Lanie, eager to escape the confined space, didn't wait for him to come around and help her out. She stepped out onto the cool concrete floor, her footsteps echoing in the quietness.

As she rounded the hood of his car, moving towards the kitchen entrance, Ethan appeared in her path, his gaze meeting hers head-on.

“So, you loved your little blue sports car, hmm?”

“Um...” If in court, she would have objected that he was leading the witness. Down the path to perdition, most likely. Unwilling to condemn herself further, she waited to see if he would give more of a hint of where he was going with his question.

Her patience soon paid off.

“Know what I love?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You, Lanie. I don’t give a damn about your car, although the sight of it scared the hell out of me. Thank God for the airbags and that you were wearing a seat belt. But this might have been avoided if you’d done what you promised me you would do. Preventative maintenance is called that for a reason.”

“Ethan, I’m—”

“Save it,” he interrupted coolly. “I don’t want to hear how sorry you are. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t help if your head smashes through the windshield or if you’re comatose in a hospital bed, breathing through a tube. And it damn sure doesn’t help if you’re dead in the morgue. Does it?”

“No, but, Ethan—”

“I don’t want to hear excuses because there are none in this instance.” He lowered his face until there was only a fraction of an inch separating their noses. All she could see were his beautiful brown eyes as they snapped with anger. “From now on, I will schedule your routine maintenance appointments. I will tell you where and when, and you will be there without fail. Do you understand me, Lanie?”

“Yes, sir.” She didn’t dare answer any other way. She wanted to apologize, to convey the weight of her remorse, but her man of action would never be satisfied with a heartfelt apology alone.

“Bend over the hood.”

She froze. “What?”

“I’m going to punish you for your careless neglect. Palms flat, feet shoulder width apart.”

Despite the tense situation, the image his words brought to mind made her body tingle. Her nipples hardened, standing out in bold relief against her silk blouse, and it wasn’t from the chill or the dampness in the air. The only dampness she was aware of at the moment was gathering between her thighs, triggered by his uncompromising words of command. Still, since their agreement, spankings had been more about play, which this clearly was not.

“But, Ethan...”

“But Ethan doesn’t stop this, Lanie. Only one word can. You agreed I was in charge. Now do as you’re told.”

His deep voice, although laced with impatience, rang with authority. It was clear he wouldn’t tolerate more stalling. Believing obedience behooved her already condemned behind, Lanie wisely complied, doing so quickly.

Once she’d done as he instructed, his hands found the hem of her skirt. Without preliminaries, or further comment, he tugged it upward until it settled in a wad of material around her waist. Her panties came down next with one efficient tug. This left her bottom bare to the coolness of the garage with only the garters holding up her stockings as protection. With a flick of his thumb, those were gone, too.

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