THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE (16 page)

“Thank you, Joe, I appreciate that,” Duncan replied, surprised by the offer.

“If Miss Carter were my sister, I would prefer she not be spending time with Mr. Cross, so I’m happy to help.”

Hanging up the phone, Duncan hurried out the door and up the stairs.

I can’t believe I’m doing this for the second time tonight, and how the hell did she end up with him?

Reaching the lounge he paused, took a deep breath, and pushing open the door he slowly entered, spotting them immediately; they were cavorting on the dance floor, impossible to miss.

Brittany was clearly strung out, lounging all over Dylan, then she suddenly jumped back and provocatively wiggled her hips. To Duncan’s fury Dylan grabbed her bottom and pulled her back, then began grinding himself against her. Duncan watched, his anger building, as she burst into fits of laughter before pulling away and spinning around.

Good grief, this is so much worse than I thought.

“Really glad to see you.”

The voice startled him, and turning around he found Edgar standing behind him, and over Edgar’s shoulder he spotted Joe walking through the door.

“Mr. Rhys-Davies,” Joe frowned as he approached, “I see things are a bit out of control. Peter will be joining us…ah, here is now,” he remarked, nodding towards a well-dressed man moving towards them from the bar.

“Peter Abrams,” the man said, extending his hand and shaking Duncan’s. “I was about to do something about this myself when Joe called.”

“I’ll take care of the young lady, if you would keep Dylan Cross at bay,” Duncan requested.

“Shouldn’t be an issue,” the managed assured him. “Mr. Cross and I are acquainted. I’m sure he wants to continue to be welcome in this lounge.”

“Good to hear,” Duncan replied, and taking a deep breath he headed on to the dance floor, Joe and Peter following closely behind.

Dylan, fully in control of his faculties, saw the trio approaching, and immediately sizing up the situation he stopped dancing and stepped back.

“Hey, no trouble,” he declared, raising his palms, “take her back, she’s all yours.”

Joe and Peter escorted him to his table, leaving Duncan to deal with Brittany, who, lost in her drunken state, continued to gyrate furiously to the loud music, wiggling and laughing, blissfully unaware that Dylan had left.

“Brittany,” Duncan said sharply.

“What?” she muttered turning her gaze to him. “Oh, it’s you, what do you want? Dylan and I are having some fun. Huh, that’s weird, where did he go?” she muttered, realizing she was by herself. “No matter, I’ll find him, but you, Duncan Rhys-Davies, you go away.”

Stepping forward he lowered his body, and effortlessly lifting her up he threw her over his shoulder.

“Put me down,” she squealed, squirming furiously.

Her protest was met with a hard slap, causing her to squeal even louder.

“Stop that noise or I’ll spank you right here in this bar,” he vowed.

The threat worked, and Duncan walked quickly towards to the door, pausing briefly as he passed Edgar.

“Edgar, I owe you. Tell Peter to put your drinks on my tab.”

“Hey, thanks, man,” Edgar grinned. “Glad to help, I won’t forget this moment for a long time, if ever.”

“Neither will I,” Duncan replied, and continued on his way.

T
he cold night air brought a rush of sobriety, and though still dizzy she realized her panties were probably showing because of her very short skirt.

“Please, Duncan, please put me down,” she begged, but much to her dismay her pleas were met with several hard swats, but as they entered the elevator she said a silent prayer of thanks; it was empty.

Thank God, thank God, there’s no-one in here. Ooh, this is a nightmare. I’ll bet he thinks I made up this whole, stupid thing.

“I didn’t plan this,” she blurted out, “I didn’t mean for you to find me with him.”

“Do you honestly think I would have come to your rescue if I thought, even for one-second, that you had?” he growled.

The elevator landed, and though it was a short walk to his cabin, Brittany was still horrified that she was over his shoulder, and terrified that they’d run into someone. When they finally entered his cabin he marched straight into his bedroom, dumped her on the bed, and ripped off her clothes.

“These are going in the trash,” he’d declared. “Stay right where you are and don’t say a word.”

Still feeling slightly buzzed she watched him disappear into the bathroom, and moments later heard the sound of shower starting.

“Come on,” he demanded as he reappeared, and marching towards the bed he grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. “You’re lucky I’m not putting you under ice cold water,” he said sternly as he bundled her into the shower. “Believe me, I was tempted. Now get yourself cleaned up. Get all that make up off your face, and wash off the stink of that alcohol.”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed, finding herself becoming more sober by the second, and as he closed the door she leaned her hands against the wall, letting the hot, steaming shower splash over her.

She stayed there for a few minutes, feeling the horrendous events of the night begin to wash away, then slowly lifting her head she turned her back to the stream of water and opened her eyes.

I have been so stupid. Why did I scream at Duncan? I should never have called that creepy guy. How much booze did he have me drink? God, I’m so embarrassed. How the hell did Duncan know I was up there? Wow, I’ve messed up before but never like this. Oh, ick, Duncan is such a gentleman he must have been horrified to see me like that. I’ve lost him for sure now. I’m surprised he even came to my rescue. I have to find a way to make this up to him, to thank him, even if he doesn’t want me anymore.

Waiting for her in the bedroom, Duncan had changed into boxers and a T-shirt. She was going to spend the night with him, but there would be no fooling around.

His head was a jumbled mess of thoughts, most of which revolved around his compelling desire to keep her in his life. She was the perfect blend of beauty, brains and miscreant, and the way she’d responded to his discipline and dark kink had been breathtaking, but he needed to get some sleep and wake up with a fresh, clear head in the morning.

“I know one thing,” he muttered to himself. “I won’t put up with those kinds of hijinks. That spoiled brat acting out must be dealt with. I can see it now, she comes to visit me in London, we have a squabble, and off she goes to some club and makes a spectacle of herself. That can never happen, never. I wish I had my cane here, that would fix her.”

He heard the sound of the faucets being turned off, and a few minutes later she appeared from the bathroom dressed in his robe, a towel wrapped around her head.

“May I use your hairdryer?” she asked quietly.

“Top right hand drawer at the very end,” he replied.

As he watched her move away, he sighed and closed his eyes.

All I want to do is take that robe off you, spank your bottom a very bright red, kiss away your tears and make love to you until you’re begging to come. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps we’ll do all that tomorrow.

Just the thought sent his cock to life, and not wanting any kind of temptation he left the bed and moved into the powder room off the lounge. Dropping his boxers he rubbed himself urgently, and with images of her laying over his lap as his hand spanked her backside crimson, he massaged until his climax was upon him. Groaning softly as his cock jerked out his cream, he sank against the wall, surrendering to the delicious calm that washed over him.

“Man, I needed that,” he mumbled.

Catching his breath he stood up, washed himself, and headed back to the bedroom, finding her already in bed waiting for him.

“I found an extra toothbrush,” she said demurely as he climbed in beside her. “I have one just like it in my drawer too, all wrapped in plastic with that little tube of toothpaste. It’s okay that I used it, right?”

“Yes, Brittany, it’s okay that you used it,” he replied soberly.

“So, um, what’s-”

“We’ll talk about things in the morning. How do you feel?”

“Totally embarrassed and-”

“I meant physically,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry, not so good. I don’t feel buzzed, but I kind of do. I feel like I’m sick. I can definitely feel a headache coming on.”

“I’ll get you some aspirin,” he declared, and moving quickly from the bed he disappeared into the bathroom.

Brittany wasn’t sure if she should be happy or scared, and decided on both. She was very happy to be back in his bed, but she was scared about the consequences, which could be anything from his never wanting to see her again, to a severe spanking. As much as she dreaded it, she’d take the latter over the former in a heartbeat.

“Has your head stopped spinning?” he asked, returning from the bathroom carrying a glass of water and handing it to her.

“Yes, totally, I don’t feel that anymore,” she said softly, “just kind of weak, and thick, that’s the only word I can think of.”

“Take these,” he ordered firmly, handing her the aspirin.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking them from the palm of his hand and popping them in her mouth. “I’m really sorry,” she added sheepishly.

“I told you we’re not discussing anything until the morning,” he said sternly. “Drink that whole glass, you’ll be dehydrated.”

Moving around the bed, he climbed back between the sheets, and leaning across his nightstand he turned off the light.

She followed suit, and as the room fell into quiet darkness, she moved closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Is this okay? Can I cuddle a bit?”

“I suppose,” he murmured, “though you don’t deserve to.”

“I know, you’re right, I don’t, but I really need to.”

Sighing deeply he raised his arm and let her nestle into him.

“You know, regardless of anything you have to be disciplined.”

“Yes, Sir, I know,” she mumbled.

“Good, now get some sleep.”

Closing her eyes she sank into the mattress, luxuriating in the comforting warmth of his hold.

There is nowhere else I’d rather be than right here. Thank you for rescuing me, Duncan Rhys-Davies. You’re my hero.

Duncan felt her body relaxing, and closing his eyes, exhaustion washing over him, he let himself mentally unwind.

There is no-one I’d rather have with me right here, right now, than you, Brittany Carter. You were worth every minute of tonight, every single minute. Now I just have to figure this whole mess out.

B
rittany awoke to the delicious aroma of fresh brewed coffee. Her head hurt, but not as much as she’d thought it might, and realizing the bed was empty she sat up and looked around the room.

The bedroom door was closed, and rubbing her eyes she was wondering how the smell had managed to make it’s way to her nostrils, when she saw the small tray with the coffee sitting next to her on the nightstand.

“Ooh, how perfect,” she mumbled, and pouring in the cream and stirring in two teaspoons of sugar, she took a big gulp. “Man that’s good, that is so good.”

The door opened slightly, and peering in, Duncan saw she was sitting up, the mug cupped in both hands.

“So, how are we this morning?”

“We are still embarrassed, headache but not a killer, and loving this coffee,” she replied.

“I have new name for you,” he declared moving across and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“And that would be?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Bratty Brittany,” he said, staring right at her.

“I suppose I can be,” she admitted, dropping her eyes, “but-”

“There is no but, except the one that’s going to be spanked,” he said firmly. “When Bratty Brittany comes out to play, it’s her bottom that’s going to pay. You might well remember that.”

“Not easy to forget,” she mumbled.

“There’s a decent breakfast waiting for you out there. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up to eating anything, but there’s everything from granola to eggs and bacon.”

“To be honest, I’m really hungry. I didn’t have any dinner last night. That’s probably why I got so drunk so fast. I’m not sure how much I drank, but maybe it wasn’t as much as I thought.”

“When you’re ready come on out, I’ve already eaten but I think I might finish up with a muffin and some more coffee. Watching you drink yours is making me want more.”

“I’m ready now,” she said. “Um, Duncan, do I remember you throwing away my skirt and-?”

“Yes, it, and the rest of your garb was trash,” he curtly replied, “and whether you’re with me or not, you shouldn’t being wearing dreadful clothes like that. Why did you have an outfit like that in the first place?”

“My friend Kathy. Those clothes belonged to her. I’ve always wanted to be more like her,” Brittany sighed. “She’s really outgoing, she has a ton of dates, goes to underground clubs outside of town. She’s been telling me I should be more daring for ages. I wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t encouraged me.”

“Hmmm, she doesn’t sound like the kind of friend that would have your father’s approval,” Duncan remarked, standing up and reaching for the robe laying on a nearby chair.

“He doesn’t like her, not really, but he also knows I have my own life now, and my own friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Duncan nodded knowingly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve done what you wanted since the day you were born. Here’s my robe. Let’s get you that breakfast.”

Slipping from the sheets she took the robe from his hands, wrapped it tightly around her waist, grabbed her coffee and followed him from the room.

“Oh, wow,” she exclaimed, seeing the array of food on the table.

“I told you, whatever you feel like eating it should be here,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.

“I’m starving,” she declared, grabbing a slice of toast and eating it dry.

“Glad to hear it,” he remarked, sitting opposite her and picking up a muffin. “That’s a good sign. You probably weren’t as drunk as you think.”

“Maybe,” she said, between mouthfuls, “do I remember Joe being there?”