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take them backwards. She had to believe he had her best interests at heart and would never harm her.
    He manoeuvred her down and over him. As she slipped across his lap, her waistband took a journey in the opposite direction. He peeled back her leggings, then her knickers, so that by the time she was in position, she was exposed to the cool autumn air.
    A tiny sob left her mouth. She did not fight him. She was resigned to her fate.
    Her buttock cheeks would be transformed into a palette of pinks and reds by his firm hand. Between her legs, her shaved parts—something to which she had complied without hesitation—would puff up in reactive response to his warming actions. She could not help herself.
    As spankings went, it was not on the disciplinary scale, and as soon as Casey noticed Rob was not being harsh, she relaxed. Her head buried into her arms, and she forgot her embarrassment at being out in the open. The cool breeze became an odd contrast to the rising heat of her skin. A rhythm was applied to his smacks, and she anticipated each blow with gritted teeth.
    Rob lectured her. He pointed out they were still in the early days of their relationship and that habits did not change overnight. She had her privacy; he did not want to crowd her and frighten her away. Once they were used to each other’s daily company—the weekdays and the weekends—then he would take her out. She was impatient and had not managed her expectations. Real life was not a fairy tale. He was a busy man with commitments, and his leisure time was precious. Why had she not gone out with her friends and pursued hobbies that benefitted her own needs?
    Casey grunted at his list of salient points. She regretted her short-sighted attitude. ‘Whatever’ meant she did not care for his needs, when he had put so much effort into her own. The kitchen was filled with her favourite foods, the toiletries included products she adored. The bedroom was to be re-decorated to soften the colours from blatant masculinity to neutral tones. Much was planned to assist her adjustment to living with Rob, and he too had to adjust.
    “Patience, Casey.” The last words he spoke as he drew her back up into his arms.
    The cuddle was accompanied by a reproachful apology on her part. “I’m sorry,” she murmured curled up on his lap. “But you have to help me on the weekends, not just with the sexy things, but with my own time.”
    His hand ran up and down her thigh, caressing her, and she tried not to think about her stinging bottom. “I know I appear inflexible with my schedule and working hours,” commented Rob, “but I think you should try to occupy yourself. What about jogging with me?”
    Casey grimaced. “Not my thing.”
    “You told me you like tennis. What about my friend, the one who is a coach, you could have lessons with him. How about that to keep you busy while I play squash?”
    Her first reaction was the idea of more lessons—her current life appeared to be made up of many lessons. Then she felt guilty because she was being negative and not meeting him halfway. She did like tennis and had been in the school team many years ago. “Alright. I will,” she said positively. “Thank you.”
    Casey settled and the smell of his sweat, the fresh bodily odour of recent perspiration, triggered her natural reactions. He smelt magnificent and masculine. Hand in hand, they walked up to the house, and Casey succeeded in keeping a wandering hand from rubbing her throbbing bottom.
    “I’m going to shower,” said Rob as they reached the back door. “Why don’t you join me?”
    “On my knees?” she said with a coy smile.
    “Well, I won’t turn down that offer.” He returned her smile.

Chapter Five: Taking Messages
     
     
    Staring at the message pad, Casey equated her existence to being no more than a glorified answering service. Rob had been adamant he did not want to be disturbed. His request came upon a day when the telephone in Casey’s little room