His arms around her kept her in bed, her agitation obvious as she pointedly ignored all efforts on his part to talk it out. "Bambina," he murmured. "Talk to me."
"Go to Hell!" she hissed.
"Do I need to spank you again just to make you talk to me?" His voice was firm, words quietly spoken but there was no doubt about his intent.
"Go ahead. Light a fire. You'll do whatever you want to do anyway. What difference does it make what I say?"
"Spencer..."
"Do this! Do that! Don't do this! Don't do that! I'm not taking orders from you or anybody else. You can take your orders and shove them when the sun don't shine! And furthermore..."
Two hard smacks on an especially tender bottom instantly halted her tirade and she went limp, weeping softly, her breath audible and her tears soaking his arm.
"Ti amo," he whispered as he rubbed the sting she was feeling. "I don't want you to get sick. You know why I spanked you. We've had this conversation dozens of times. I don't want you out in the rain."
The rain was nothing more than a misty drizzle for days and mid-afternoon, after working indoors all day, Spencer craved some fresh air. She dressed appropriately - jeans, long sleeved sweater, galoshes, rain jacket and rain hat - and went for a walk. No one was about; she had the world to herself and the world had evergreens with huge dripping raindrops and there were water puddles everywhere. She stepped in one she couldn't avoid and the splashing made her giggle. So she stepped in another and another and another until she could feel the water spattering over her galoshes, down to her socks and before long her feet were soaked.
Soaking feet... it felt good for some reason so she took off her rain hat and opened her rain jacket and the misty drizzle sprayed her with a feeling of fresh dew and sweet crisp air and she felt alive and happy. And the rain gods decided to make her even happier and turned the water faucets on and in seconds the drizzling rain had turned to a drenching torrent of water and cold wind. As always, those kinds of torrents were brief but she was still drenched.
And that's the sight JC saw when she stepped through the backyard door to the garage where he had just parked his car.
He didn't say anything.
He helped her out of her opened raincoat, hung her rain hat on a peg and helped her remove her sopping wet galoshes and equally wet socks. When she was down to her sweater and jeans, he hauled her over his shoulder and took her into the house, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. He kept a hand on her arm as he turned on the shower and cornering her so she couldn't escape, he removed the rest of her clothes and none-too-gently pushed her into the shower stall.
"Get your head under the spray," he ordered, a hint of anger in his voice.
Spencer knew she was doomed the moment she had walked into the garage, knew there was no sense in arguing and had remained silent while he undressed her, offering no resistance. "Damn!" she muttered when he pushed her into the shower but she didn't put her head under the warm spray.
Within seconds, he joined her and delivered one hard and heavy swat to her backside before getting her head warmed up by the hot water. And when he decided she was sufficiently warm all over, he upended her - his hand coming down swiftly and sharply.
"JC!" she protested.
"I don't want to hear one word," he said.
His hand did the talking, Spencer wiggling and trying to get loose to no avail and when her bottom cheeks were blatantly red and her breath was sufficiently harsh, he righted her. Spencer concentrated on breathing; JC concentrated on holding her close to his chest while he took long calming breaths.
The bathroom was thick with steam and unresolved tension, the only sounds coming from the water's spray, Spencer's occasional gasps as JC's hands kneaded her sore bottom. He backed her against a corner, soaped her all over and then shampooed her hair. She stood still, not fighting him but obviously in distress and when he finally turned the water off, she waited to see if he would dry her or leave her to do it on her own.
He wrapped a towel around his waist, another around her body and pulled her out of the stall.
"I can dry myself," she said softly, not looking at the tall man holding her, afraid she would find his face contorted with anger.
"I'm going to do it," he said in that tone he used when he was voicing his displeasure with an officer under his command.
"No."
"Yes," he replied and sitting on the wicker chair near the vanity, he flipped her over his knees and spanked her again - harder this time - his hands swift, heavy and the spanks seemingly endless.
When she was finally limp across his lap, he pulled her up and held her close. He didn't say anything while she wept, waited until her tears were under control and continued to remain silent when he toweled her hair dry. When that was done, he cupped her cheek and kissed her brow.
"Let me know when you're ready to talk," he told her as he smoothed her hair behind her ears. "Let me know what possessed you to keep your rain coat open and why you were out there in the rain in the first place."
The spanking had worn her out - all she wanted to do was put it behind her, cuddle with him, tell him to stop being an overprotective ogre and...
She shifted on his lap and gasped when her bottom made harsh contact with his thighs. She tried to get up but he held her, one hand on her waist, the other on her sore bottom.
"Tell me what was going through your head, Spence."
"Let me go."
"Never."
"You don't care what I want. You just want to control me. Well, you don't own me and I can do whatever..."
Another harsh swat landed making her yelp. "Keep it up, Spence and you'll be over my knees again."
"You can't..." she began.
"I can," he retorted, "and I will. I love you more than I have words," he murmured, tilting her chin up so he could look at her. "I'll do whatever I have to do to keep you well and safe. I won't brook argument about this, mia amore. The rain is not good for you; you know that. An occasional walk in the rain when it's a light one is fine. But when it's pouring cats and dogs... I'll say it again. Let me know when you're ready to talk to me."
"Stop spanking me."
"That's up to you, innamorata sweetheart."
"I don't want to talk to you," she said with petulance, and would have lost her balance on his lap if he wasn't holding her as she reached up to wipe her eyes. "I was okay; I'm not sick. You spanked me because you have these dumb-ass rules and I'm not living my life according to JC's rules. And if you don't like that," she hissed, staring fiercely, her chin jutting out... "Well that's just too damn bad!"
"You are such a fierce little imp," he smiled as he pulled her closer to him and tucked her head under his chin. He was desperate to laugh at her bravado but smothered it and kept his smile above her head so she wouldn't see.
"And I love you so much," he repeated. "So much that I have this dumb-ass rule about keeping you well and if that means spanking you when you take risks with your health, then so be it. I will spank you molto duro so hard, light a fire on your tush so hot we can fry eggs. If that's what it takes, bambina, then that's what I'll do. Now let me know when you're ready to talk to me."
Her answer was a balled fist thrust into the soft part of his belly. He palmed that fist, brought it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. Taking her to their bed, he placed her on her side and lay down beside her with her heated bottom snug up against him.
"Let me know when you're ready to talk to me."
His arms around her kept her by his side, but even so, she ignored all his efforts to talk to her. When she had heard enough she cursed him and he warned her that he wouldn't hesitate to spank her again.
She refused to kowtow, would not submit to his will, would not be bullied even though his strength was superior to hers and lastly, tried to shame him into dropping the subject by telling him to just go ahead and spank her again. "You'll do what you want to do regardless," she said.
"Talk to me."
"Go to Hell!" she hissed.
Two hard smacks on an especially tender bottom instantly halted her tirade and she went limp, weeping softly, her breath audible and her tears soaking his arm.
"Ti amo," he whispered, gently rubbing the fiery sting she was feeling. "I don't want you to get sick. You know why I spanked you. We've had this conversation dozens of times. I don't want you out in the rain."
"Will you hold me?" she finally asked when she was tired of fighting.
"I *am* holding you," he murmured as he tightened his arm around her.
"No... hold me more, all of me."
"All of you," he smiled, relieved she wanted him to comfort her, pulled her onto his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "Better?"
"More."
"More," he whispered and wrapped his legs around hers so that she was engulfed within his embrace from her neck to her toes.
She wiggled around until she was comfortable and when he felt her body sink into his - totally relaxed - he knew the fight had gone out of her and she'd eventually tell him what was bothering her. As much as she loved the rain and being out in it, he was certain this altercation had become more than rain.