Page 40 of Passionate Defense

Ethan walked up behind her, his hands curling around her hips. His eyes dropped to her chest. “That isn’t the top I laid out for you, Lanie.”

“Maybe we should go to the beach.” She held up the banana-yellow bikini he’d packed and grinned. “This, I love.”

“Maybe you should do as you’re told and wear the clothes I selected.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and with her lower lip turned down in a pout, shook her head. “It’s ugly. I like the one I have on.”

“Who’s in charge here?”

“Are we really going to argue over a tank top, Ethan?”

“No, that would be silly. But this isn’t about a top, is it? It’s about you not being in control.”

His unwavering gaze met hers in the mirror. He was too perceptive for her own good. The first to look away, she wrinkled her nose as she did so.

“This discussion is closed. Put on the top I picked out and fix your hair while I shower. When I come out, I want you waiting, bent over the end of the bed with your skirt up, showing off those sexy white ruffled panties. I bought those a week ago and haven’t been able to get them out of my head.”

He lips grazed her jaw as he reached into the still-open drawer for a pair of boxer briefs. Then, while whistling off-key, he disappeared into the bathroom. Less than a minute later, the shower came on.

Lanie stared at her reflection, pondering her next move. Obey then head into town to enjoy the rest of the day, all the while looking like a weird, overage, polka-dotted girl-fan of the annoying cartoon mouse. She’d look ridiculous, but they were two hours from Boston. Who would know?

Option two was to stage a protest. She didn’t doubt she’d end up on the losing end of the argument, and facedown over the end of the bed, her behind hot and tingling, but she’d get a little somethin’ for her troubles. Her ass-obsessed husband never could resist when he had her in that position—and with ruffled panties on, it was a hands-down guarantee. Either way, she’d wind up in town shopping, wearing the butt-ugly top.

With a cheeky grin, she decided onnumero dos.

* * *

FEELING LIKE A JERK, Ethan toweled himself dry. He knew she’d hate the Minnie Mouse tank but bought it anyway to push her buttons. He didn’t expect she’d refuse to wear it though.

Now, he was left with a dilemma. Enforce his orders like a hard-ass or be a cream puff and let her off the hook. This weekend was supposed to be fun. Under pressure to be operating in the black her first year—an optimistic, self-imposed goal he didn’t support—she needed to get away and de-stress. A spanking for defiance wasn’t part of his plan. The shirt wasn’t that big of a deal, really, but if he let her get by with disobedience, wouldn’t it undermine his authority and weaken his credibility as a disciplinarian? Shit!

Unsure what to do, he paced in the bathroom for several minutes before coming up with a compromise. He’d warm her butt—over those panties, which had been his plan since he saw them at the store—and add a lecture on obedience, but in the end allow her to wear the top that she wanted. He grinned as he pulled on his boxer briefs. Some time with her nose in the corner wearing the Minnie tank might also be beneficial.

As he entered their bedroom, he stopped short. Lanie was nowhere in sight. Minnie Mouse was front and center, however. Folded neatly atop his own clothes in the middle of the bed. Dressing quickly so he could locate and have it out with his wayward wife, he put on khaki shorts, no-show socks, and his sneakers she’d set side by side on the floor next to the bed. She’d laid out everything but a shirt. His gaze fell on the Minnie tank. His lips quirked in amusement. Her message to him was crystal clear—if you like the top so much, wear it yourself.

So, his naughty girl wanted to play the brat. Game on.

His grin faded when he saw her skirt and ruffled panties folded on the dresser. Wondering what she had on instead, he went in search of her.

The smell of cocoa butter assailed his nostrils as he walked out onto the deck. Lanie stood bent over, applying sunscreen to her long legs. The yellow bikini was stunning on her, as he knew it would be. His fingers itched to undo the halter top and side-tie bottoms, baring her gorgeous body to his avid gaze and the midday sun.

The idea of bending her over the railing and taking her consumed him. Shifting subtly, he adjusted himself to ease the sudden tightness of his shorts. He’d always had a strong libido, but with Lanie, it surged into overdrive. After having her twice that morning, he was hard and ready for her again. It was a good thing her amorous nature matched his because he’d never get enough of his Lanie.

When she turned slightly toward him, and rubbed sunscreen on her belly, his attention collided with the plunging neckline of her top. Molded beautifully to her breasts, her firm nipples were visible through the fabric. As if she hadn’t noticed him, she slathered more lotion on her thighs, dipping her fingers in between. He knew better.

“You’re not dressed,” he observed.

“Nope. I’m going to the beach. Want to come?”

That was a loaded question, but he ignored it.

He moved toward her. “What’s this about, Lanie?”

“I’m mad at you and decided I need to take a break—in a bikini.” Finished, she capped the bottle and wiped her hands on her towel before sliding on dark sunglasses and setting her floppy wide-brimmed hat on her head. Facing him, she waited, as did he.

After a silent moment passed, she shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back.”

Standing on her tiptoes, she gave his jaw the tiniest peck. Then, she gathered up her beach bag and towel and, with a self-satisfied smile on her lips, she whirled and headed toward the stairs leading down to the beach.

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