Elodie figured that that was just about intimate enough. "I wouldn't have thought that Clay would ever hit you."
"No, not hitting. I don't want you to get the idea that he is in any way abusive. He's not. At all." April looked Elodie—who undoubtedly had a disbelieving expression on her face—right in the eye, and spoke in no uncertain terms. "He spanks me. He would never punch or kick me. He does no more than what Dad used to do when we were kids." April reached back and rubbed her bottom reflexively. "Although his spankings sure hurt a lot more." She paused and studied Elodie before adding, "It's not as uncommon as you think. Husbands have spanked their wives since the beginning of time, and many still live by that belief. You would be surprised to find out how many modern day women still get—and like—a spanking from their men. When Clay and I first got together, this was something that was very important to him. Both his father and grandfather lived by this belief, and it was what he wanted in a marriage, as well. We discussed it at length, and I have to say… I'm happy I agreed to it."
"You agreed to be spanked?"
April nodded. "Clay wouldn't have done it otherwise. This was a decision we made for the sake of our marriage."
"Elodie? Elodie, are you all right?" Clay waved his hand in front of her face, trying to get her to come back to him. It wasn't like her to space out like this, at least not unless she was painting.
"I'm here, I'm here." Elodie wrestled her mind away from the vivid memories of April describing the way the man who was currently sitting less than two feet away from her used to spank his wife's bare bottom. She crossed her legs delicately under the table, but it was really just to see if she could alleviate the ache those thoughts created in several places at once—in her heart, in her mind, and in much more earthy areas on her person.
But clenching her legs together only served to help her soil her panties.
"You were miles away. What were you thinking?"
Elodie racked her brain to come up with an answer that was not provocative or related in any way to what she'd been rolling around in her mind. "That I can't afford Red Creek. I'll meet you here again next month."
She started to scoot across the maroon vinyl bench, but his hand over hers stopped her dead. His touch felt as if he was an E.R. doctor laying a live paddle on her hand. Clay had never been a touchy person with anyone but April. For his wife, there had definitely been an exception. He could barely keep his hands off her; they always held hands when they walked together, his arm naturally looped around her waist when she was close. Every move he made towards her was filled with incredible affection and such a stark love that it was always plain in his eyes for everyone to see.
So, he'd spanked her sister. He'd also obviously loved her, and April had been ecstatically happy the entire time that they were together, and that was more than most people ever got to experience in this lifetime.
"You're not listening to me." That voice was like a swath of rich velvet being pulled over a chunk of rough granite. It was soft, but it commanded obedience. Elodie's nipples loved it, begging in tight, aching peaks for just a little of his attention. "Next month, on the fifth, at Red Creek. I'll pick you up at seven."
She only got the "n" sound of "no" out before he cut in. "Not one word."
Elodie glared at him, but continued to get out of the booth, clutching her check like a banner to ward him off. She didn't want to take his charity, in any way. Not companionship wise, and certainly not money wise. That was one of the reasons she always insisted they eat here—she knew she could afford it, once a month.
They both paid, then he walked her out to her junker of a car, shaking his head as he always did at its condition. "This thing should be condemned."
"Ya' know, you need to get a new line to insult my car with."
"There's certainly a lot to work with."
Elodie slid behind the wheel and rolled down the window when he crouched beside it. "Remember. The fifth of next month. I'll pick you up at seven."
"Uh huh. You're too busy for that. You'll have something else to do that night."
Clay frowned, and it was a truly terrible thing to see. "If I do, I'll cancel it," he growled. "Drive carefully."
That was it. He'd ordered, and she knew from her sister's experiences with him that she'd better obey.
Or else.
Would he spank her, too?
Elodie shivered at the thought, then pulled out into traffic and tried—unsuccessfully—to forget about Clay Carver.
Chapter 2