That finger was back. The one that had been slow torturing her all day long, delving gently between perpetually plump lips to claim the most intimate part of her, settling possessively over a bit of flesh that ached and strained to meet him, pulsing and throbbing long before any contact was made.

He’d seen to that.

She did her best to obey his edict – that she not move while she was being touched – although it took everything in her to achieve it, siphoning off some of the intensity of what he was doing to her because she needed to concentrate so hard, which was probably exactly as he intended.

Sometimes he knew her entirely too well.

Brynn and Gray had been together long enough that he did seem to read her mind a lot, but her trials and tribulations today – and the rest of this weekend – weren’t a result of that. They were because he’d been reading other things.

Her laptop had died recently – giving up the ghost without even the Blue Screen of Death, just flatly refusing to turn on no matter how she heaped invectives – under her breath, of course – upon it or begged it to boot up just one last time so that she could back up all of the important things she had on it.

But it stubbornly refused to comply, which only served to reinforce Brynn’s withering thought that all computers were basically men in technological clothing – contrary to the end.

Her first strategic mistake was made when she brought her situation to her husband, expecting and getting sympathy – at first – about her predicament. “We’ll take it in to a repair guy and see if he can fix it, but I think we should defer getting you a new one, if it comes to that, hon, until after our vacation.”

Despite the fact that they were, in fact, relatively well off, especially compared to lots of people in the current economy, Gray was very conscious of how they spent their money and kept them – most especially her - on a tight budget since they were planning to take a big vacation shortly with their friends Hank and Kim. It wasn’t that Brynn was a spendthrift, she wasn’t. Sometimes he had to force her to buy things for herself. But occasionally, just occasionally, she got a wild hair and bought something that she inevitably ended up returning at his behest because Gray thought it was a more expensive version of something they could get much cheaper elsewhere, although he was also careful to make sure that she had what she wanted a lot, frivolous to him or not. He was much more likely to go without something he wanted so that she could have what her heart most desired, and that was perfectly fine with him.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Brynn agreed, allowing him to cuddle her close to his hip as they sat on the end of their enormous bed together.

“You have all of your vital stuffed backed up, anyway, right? Onto our external hard drive?” he asked casually, not really paying much attention to her response as he tried to find the channel he was looking for on the big screen TV that sat across from the end of their bed.

But her lack of response was alarmingly conspicuous, and, even as he was flipping through the schedule, he turned to her, eying her suspiciously. “You did do as I asked you to months ago, didn’t you, Brynn? You transferred all of those files over onto the hard drive and set up a backup schedule on your computer?

Still no response. Worse than no response, because she seemed to be trying to shrink against his side, as if hoping she would just disappear beneath the intensity of his gaze, or, even better, slip out from under his arm before it inexorably contracted, holding her in place until he deigned to let her go. These were sure signs that she knew she was in trouble.

He was too quick for her – he always was, dammit – tightening his left arm – which was supposed to be his weaker one since he was predominantly right handed, although Brynn had never seen any evidence that he had a weak arm of any sort, especially when it came to disciplining her – and clamping her tightly to his side.

Although she already knew the answer to his questions, she always tested the limits of his strength, although her experiments always yielded the same results: she wasn’t in any sort of pain, but his arm was like an iron bar around her, and she knew she would be here until he decided to do something else with her. Brynn knew that as soon as he extracted the answer from her – which he definitely wasn’t going to like – that he wasn’t going to be letting her go any time soon.

But that didn’t mean she was just going to let him hold her there without letting him know that she wanted out.

At least until she heard his softly spoken, steel backed, “Brynn.” And then she settled down, still trying to hide from him by burying her head against his arm despite the fact that she knew he wasn’t going to let her get away with that for long.

Before she knew it, he had her chin tipped up so that she had no choice but to look him in the eye - the patient but resolute eye. “Let me guess. You didn’t back anything up onto the external hard drive?”

Brynn bit her lip in lieu of actually answering him, but knew that that wasn’t going to fly for very long, either.

“If I have to ask you again, Brynn, you’re going to be answering from over my lap while I blister your bottom.”

That was quite enough impetus for her, despite the fact that she realized that she was quite likely to end up in that position any way for having disobeyed him. “No. I didn’t. I tried it once and couldn’t find the Z drive in our home network, and I didn’t try it again. I’m sorry.”

Gray leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. “I know you think some of my rules for you are frivolous -”

“Like bedtimes,” she interjected vehemently. There was nothing she hated worse than having to stop doing something she enjoyed just because he thought she didn’t get enough sleep when left to her own devices about when she went to bed.

He chuckled softly. “I know how you feel about those, sweetie. You’ve made your displeasure known.” Gray never had any problem with her disagreeing with him, as long as she did it respectfully – the same way he disagreed with her sometimes.

But he was the undisputed head of their household, and despite all of her protestations, he knew that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yes, but that hasn’t changed anything about them! I still have to go to bed at a ridiculously early hour for someone my age!” she wailed, almost forgetting about the original point of this discussion.

At least until he reminded her of it, frowning down at her and saying, with a wealth of warning in his tone, “Are you sure you want to go down that road right now, Love, considering the situation you’re already in?”

Her answer was the way her teeth clicked abruptly together, and no more than that, except perhaps the way her jaw ticked a little, like his own did sometimes.

“Could your friend Ira help me get some stuff of it, do you think?”

Gray shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll ask him if he’s willing to look at it.” A sudden thought struck him. “There wasn’t anything from work on there that you’ve lost, was there?”

Brynn frowned. “Of course not! Everything for work is on my work laptop.”

“Damned good thing,” he said, “since you chose to ignore what I’d told you to do.”

“I did not!” she whined, although that wasn’t at all the right tact to take with him. He detested whining. “I just got busy and forgot.”

As Gray inexorably moved her into the position she was all too familiar with, head down over his lap, arms extended so that her fingers were pressed into the celery green deep pile carpeting to steady herself - not that she thought he was going to let her fall, but just as a reflex – he said, in that scolding voice she absolutely detested, “Well, let’s see if I can do something to help you remember to do as you’re told the next time, hmmmm?”

It was early morning, and she hadn’t changed yet, which meant that she was still wearing the baby doll pajamas he preferred her in, minus the bottoms, which was another requirement. They were all very pretty and lacy and diaphanous – in pastel blue and pink and green with tiny embroidered roses – essentially no protection at all from him, not that she felt she needed it . . . usually.

But Brynn longed for even just those barely there thong panties that had come with them, just because they would have been a reason to delay her punishment, if only for a second or two.

As it was, because of the shortness of the baby dolls, the moment he drew her over his legs she was laid completely bare to him, the extremely short nightie riding up to mid-back, leaving the long, pretty length of her generous bottom and gorgeous legs open to his less than tender attentions.

And Gray didn’t waste a moment before he began to color that expanse of lightly tanned skin first a soft pink, then a brighter, blushing rose that matched her cheeks, he knew, even thought this was hardly a new situation for her. She blushed each and every time he disciplined her, just as she did every time he made love to her, and he found it exquisitely charming that she was still so shy around him.

But her bottom wasn’t finding his attentions charming in the least. By now her backside was a livid, angry red from stem to stern, and he showed absolutely no signs of stopping, despite the way Brynn tried to wiggle away from each terribly accurate swat. Even though she knew that he would immobilize her immediately when she began to have any kind of success in dodging those all too crisp, blazing swats, she couldn’t stop herself from making those self preservation moves, twisting and turning and trying to get that paddle hard palm to land somewhere – anywhere – that it hadn’t already fifteen or so times.

All she managed to do was exactly what she expected. She was drawn even closer against him, his possessive free hand holding her even more firmly against him, which effectively barred her from much of any movement at all.

“You know better than that,” he chided. “Or you should. You know what wiggling like that gets you, Brynn Emmons.”

“No! Gray, please! That’s enough! Really it is!”

She had never succeeded in convincing him of that, but had to make the attempt.

“What does wiggling and trying to avoid your punishment get you, Brynn?” he asked, not missing a beat of applying the unforgiving flat of his hand to his now stilled target.

Brynn cried out with each startlingly loud crack, waiting as long as she dared before she answered him, “Twenty five swats that are not a part of the spanking, Sir, that I have to count out loud.”

“Good girl,” Gray praised. He knew how hard this had to be for her because, despite the inherent titillation, it wasn’t easy for him, either. When he punished her, he caused her pain, and there were always very real tears. He knew that her attempts to avoid her chastisement were not just so much play acting.

Nor was his strict response.

She was howling from the moment she said “one” until the breathy, tear choked “twenty five” passed her lips minutes later. When she earned a spanking within a spanking, he was careful not to rush it. Each swat was soundly applied for maximum effect, and he always reached that goal, using most of his considerable strength in the application of each fierce smack, his hand raised well back each and every time as he steeled himself against the effects her tears and wails had on his heart, making him want to ease up on her when he knew that that was the exact opposite of what was best for her.

“Now for the remainder of your lesson,” he promised in that low, warm voice of his. No anger, no recriminations or sarcasm. Even in the ritual that reduced her to a blubbering mass – and maybe more so then than almost any other time in their relationship – his pure love for her shone through.

He loved her enough to discipline her when he felt she needed it, and this was definitely one of those times.

A though struck him as her begging and sobbing increased by threefold in volume due to the tremendous swats she’d just received. “Did you have the only copy of our wedding photos on your computer?”

It was hard to experience such complete relief while she was in such a humiliating position, but every pore she owned oozed it when she answered him, haltingly as his hand was still rising and falling rapidly on her exposed flesh. “No – you – have – have – them and – and so – does Kim.”

“Damned good thing,” he muttered.

Her bottom was already a flaming, mottled red, but he didn’t let that deter him. When he stopped again, for the last time, her entire backside was swollen and seared a livid shade of glaringly angry red, almost evenly from the very first ascent of what had been a creamy, unblemished hillock to just above the backs of her cutely dimpled knees.

But he didn’t let her up immediately. “And what are you going to do the next time I ask you to do something, my Love?” he asked, patting that well seared rump.

Brynn was still choking on sobs that doubled in volume even at just his gentle taps. “Do – it - immediately,” she barely got out through waves of misery.

“Good girl.”

He brought her back up to lie on his lap, gingerly, of course, and hugged her tight, distributing soft kisses all over that damp, tear stained face. “I’ll see what I can do about getting your information if you’ll tell me what you want most. But no new computer for the time being. We’ll just have to share my laptop.”

She didn’t have the balls to sniff at that. Instead, she did the smart thing and thanked him heartily for his generosity, although looking back, she would have to say that she wished she had pushed for a replacement, despite the danger to her newly singed butt.

It might have saved her from what actually happened.

Brynn had to admit that Gray was more than generous with his laptop. He set her up as another user, but she did note that she was not an administrator, which was fine with her. It was, after all, his computer. She was, in the beginning, very careful to erase her browsing history, just in case he should see it, and also to shut the computer down completely, so that there wouldn’t be a chance of him seeing anything she had been doing.

But eventually she became much more lax and less careful to make sure that the history of what she did and where she went on the web was not blatantly available to him, often forgetting to shut down, leaving him logged in as her.

That was a big, big mistake.

When Gray picked her up at Manchester airport after she’d gone to New Mexico to spend some time with an old friend, she was surprised by how affectionate he was, as if she’d been gone for several months instead of less than a week. He lifted her off the ground and whirled her around in his arms, kissing her deeply all the while.

“My, my, my! That’s an enthusiastic reception! I’ll have to remember to go away for a few days more often.

His answer was to look her straight in the eye and growl, low in his throat, before grabbing her hand and tugging her to the luggage carousel, then out to their waiting car, barely saying a word to her all the way home, but, at the same time, utterly refusing to relinquish his hold on her hand, occasionally raising it to his mouth to kiss the back of it.

“Are you all right?” Brynn asked. He’d always been the quieter of the two of them, but this was a bit abnormal, even for him.

“I’m fine. Much better now that you’re home where you belong.”

Brynn smiled, but only relaxed just the slightest bit. Something was up, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what.

“I really don’t like being home while you’re gone. The dogs and I mope about the house – all of us thinking of nothing but when you’ll be back.” She laughed softly at that idea. “They don’t even sleep with me. They staked out their places so that they can stare at the back door, waiting for you to come through it. If I wasn’t here picking you up, I’d be right there with them.”

Brynn had been well known for getting herself into untenable situations trying to rescue dogs, and Gray had put a moratorium on them adopting any more than the gaggle they already had. He allowed that they could foster, but Brynn knew that she would have to give up whatever extraneous pups they had to a suitable family once one was found.

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

Gray turned his eyes from the road for just a second, catching hers and making her draw in a breath with their intensity. “It’s absolutely true, Love. Nothing’s right when you’re away.”

Her husband wasn’t always so blatantly romantic in his speech, so his effusive words made her blush furiously. “I agree,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. Gray wasn’t as likely to surprise her with flowers or other overt romantic gestures as she might want, but he endeavored to make her feel loved and courted and paid attention to in many other ways. She never opened or closed a car door – or any door – herself when he was with her. He had vowed – early on in their relationship – to tell her honestly if he thought a dress or outfit didn’t look right on her for whatever reason, and he had made his bones with her about that by telling her – gently but firmly – that he thought a pair of cheap jeans she’d gotten from Goodwill were too tight, which was something she had suspected herself.

Sometimes she took his advice and changed, some times she didn’t, but she always appreciated his honesty.

He had her back in any situation, quite literally whenever they went to the city, and was never anything less than wholeheartedly on her side whenever she needed him. He had seen her at her best but still loved her even when he suffered through her worst; despite more than ample cause in crankiness, messy hair, and horrific bouts praying to the porcelain god, he had hovered lovingly over her throughout the occasional bout of stomach flu or stubborn cold that – without his almost overprotective tendencies – had often become bronchitis for her in the past.

But not on his watch.

“When we get home, there’s something I want us to discuss.”

Despite the fact that she had no doubts whatsoever about his feelings for her – and even less about her own for him – that calmly delivered sentence had her stomach immediately twisting and dancing within her. “That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not meant to be at all.” Gray could feel how cold her fingers had gotten; a sure sign that she was uneasy. “Really. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You’re not leaving me for someone younger and much better looking?” she only half joked.

“Brynn! Of course not! I should turn into the next rest stop and bend you over my knee for even thinking that. You know how I feel about you denigrating yourself.” He was glancing over at her as if he was actually considering the pros and cons of pulling the car over, which had Brynn even more on edge. “No. Like I said, it’s a good thing.”

“So why don’t you tell me now and ease my nerves?”

Gray kissed those icy fingers. “Because this is a subject that should be discussed when we’re in bed together, all snuggled and warm, and neither of us is distracted.”

And that was exactly when he brought it up again, and not before. Not when he brought her in and left her bags in the car, unable to keep his hands off her for a moment longer than he had to, tugging her into their room and barely making it to the bed before he covered her much smaller body with his own. Gray groaned ferociously when he finally joined their bodies together, reveling in the way her body arched up to his – as always – feeling her shiver around him and reaching down to splay a big hand under her bottom, forcing her to accept even more of him as she whimpered and moaned at his every movement.

Exhausted and nearly asleep, despite the possibility of impending doom, she nonetheless jerked wide awake when he said, “Perhaps we should put off our discussion until tomorrow -”

“No!” He wasn’t prepared for the force of the swat to his chest. “You have to tell me! You promised!” Brynn raised her hand again, threatening him, until he caught it and turned it against her, using it to press her to his chest.

“Enough,” Gray warned as she raised her other hand, his eyebrow going up towards his hairline until she lowered her hand. “I wanted to talk to you about something that happened not long after you left.” He could feel how stiff she was in his arms, and wished he could put her to ease. He didn’t have a very good way with words, and he knew that he was inadvertently causing her much more consternation than he should, so he figured that the best thing for him to do was to just say it.

“When you left, my laptop was on, and you’re usually so good about signing out of your own account and into mine that I assumed that I was already in my account.” Brynn was just looking confused by now, but no less nervous. Gray caught her eye. “I inadvertently saw some very interesting bits and bobs of both your search and your browser history before I realized that I wasn’t in my own account.”

He waited a moment, not saying anything further, but letting the meaning of what he’d said set in.

“You saw my search history -” she whispered, her heart beginning to pound.

“You know how helpful Google is, filling things in and saving that history for you on the toolbar?”

Brynn was beginning to understand the enormity of what he was saying. “And my browsing history?”

“Pages you’ve been to already were suggested and shown to me, and I have to confess that, once I realized what I was seeing and who the source was, I did delve a bit further than just the surface, and I apologize for invading your privacy.”

Brynn thought that if she blushed any harder, she was going to faint dead away. Of course, she wouldn’t fall very far, snuggled as she was tightly up against his chest so that she was half lying on top and half off it.

She tried to move away, tugging at the wrist he still claimed, getting absolutely nowhere. So, instead, she buried her face in his chest, not wanting to discuss the subject any further, now or later.