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Birthdays were stupid anyway, especially at her age. At forty-four, you didn’t need anyone making a fuss over you.

That was what Tess tried to tell herself, anyway, as she brushed and brushed her hair until the red strands whispered like silk with every stroke. Usually the repetitiveness of the action and the just-out-of-reach childhood memories that brushing her hair evoked were enough to calm her thoughts, but not today.

She hadn’t expected Eli to bring her breakfast in bed — she knew that of late his work had been more frantic than ever — but she hadn’t expected him to rush off so early either. He claimed he had a big presentation at noon and needed to help his team prepare.

She didn’t doubt it. But still.

Tess carried her coffee to her desk, feeling at least a little boost after slipping into her newest pair of house shorts, soft black ones with red lace around the legs. Impossibly cute.

And short enough that she’d only ever wear them when working at home.

Underneath she sported white cotton bikinis with “Happy Birthday” printed in rainbow font. She hadn’t been able to resist buying them when she saw the pair while browsing online the week before, and she knew Eli would like them too.

He really did love her, even if he had slipped away on her birthday morning without so much as lingering for a few minutes of cuddling.

Tess tried to concentrate on her work, but Eli’s early departure ate and ate at her. They were planning a special dinner, and he was a fabulous cook, and he probably had something else special planned for her as well, but none of that seemed to matter as all the old insecurities came flooding back.

She was the same awkward child she’d always been, well into her forties or not. The same one the kids had teased. The same one a father couldn’t love. The same one who had experienced one bad thing after another for the whole stretch of her life.

Because she always would be that child.

Because she deserved it. Scorn and feelings illegal bahis of worthlessness.

Her oldest friends.

The thoughts would not go away, no matter how she tried to tamp them down, and Tess was sitting at her desk, her legs pulled up under her, battling time and memories when the doorbell rang.

Must be an early delivery, she thought, and she felt the momentary jolt of excitement she always did when a new article of clothing arrived. Something pretty and new might push the thoughts away.

She bought more than she should online, but then it made her happy. And she didn’t see why she should deny herself that little thrill when her brain so often turned against her.

For the life of her, though, Tess couldn’t remember having ordered anything in the past few days, so before opening the door to see what the package contained she pulled back the curtain of the narrow window by the door and peeked out, just in case someone was actually at the door.

Eli stood outside.

What the hell?

Tess threw open the door, and he smiled his caring smile.

“I’m back,” he said.

She went into his arms and disappeared within his embrace, overwhelmed and thankful to see him. “What about your presentation?”

He pushed her back enough to look into her eyes. “That’s why I got in so early, so I could get things moving and sneak back to see you.”

“But you have to go right back, don’t you? I mean, it’s almost—”

“I’ll make it back, but not before I give you something.”

Tess’s excitement spiked again. “What?”

“Let’s go inside,” he said, laughing, and led her into the living room.

“Stand here,” he said, positioning her by the couch, “and don’t move a muscle.”

She did as she was told, his gaze as he walked around her, taking her in, sending warmth through her.

“New shorts?” he asked.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“They look lovely on you.” He pushed the hair off her neck, and the brushing of fingertips over her skin, so illegal bahis siteleri faint, opened an ache inside her. She wanted to tell him how badly she’d been feeling since he left, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment and repay his return with something so petty.

“You didn’t think I’d let the morning pass without giving you a birthday spanking, did you?”

Tess’s lips opened, and for just a moment the room swam around her.


“Yes?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I mean no.” She didn’t know what she was saying, and she might have actually been fainting but for his strong arms, which someone maneuvered her over his knee as he sat himself on the couch.

“Oh, these shorts are very nice indeed.”

Tess turned her head enough to see him regarding her bottom, and his look spoke entirely of approval, of appreciation for the sight of it. She hated to ever disappoint him.

“So lovely,” he said, passing a hand over the shorts.

She moaned at his touch, all of it so unexpected.

“You need to count the spanks, you know,” he instructed her.

She tried to speak but couldn’t, her heart a throb that kept any coherent thoughts at bay.

The first slap came gentle, its sound muffled by the material of her shorts.

“One,” she counted, then “two.”

Three. Four. Five.

She didn’t deserve his love. She really didn’t, especially not after feeling such resentment all morning.

With each slap his hand landed a little harder, but even after five he was only spanking hard enough to warm her cheeks, to get the blood flowing.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said.

She wanted to cry.

At either hip, his fingers hooked around the waistband of her shorts, and he gently tugged the material down until her soft shorts bunched around her thighs. “I love them,” he said of her birthday panties. “They’re perfect.”

He rearranged the material on her, pulling the right side over a little, and he seemed to want to let canlı bahis siteleri the sight of her ass in those panties settle over his thoughts and lay there indefinitely.

The spankings sometimes led to sex, and sometimes they didn’t, but they were always delivered with love, no matter how intense, no matter how red her cheeks were after or how much the flesh stung.

That sting, how she loved it.

The sting that he took away sometimes by caressing her cheeks, the sting that other times he simply fucked out of her.

“Six,” she said, as his slap sounded.

“I love you so much,” he said.

Seven. Eight, Nine. Ten.

The material of her panties met that of her shorts, bunched below, baring her cheeks to him now, the cool air of their home eliciting goose bumps.

As if spurred by the sight of her bare flesh, his spanks became harder, the sound of them rending the air as she counted, as she moaned.

How could she have doubted him? How could she have felt the way she’d been feeling?

As he neared forty, his spanks thrust her forward with each strike, and she called each number louder, as if competing with the all-consuming sound of hand to flesh.

She knew that she loved him. She couldn’t doubt that. But more so, his eyes on her, his strength, his care, communicated to her that she did in fact deserve it.

She did.

She deserved his love.

She always had.

“Forty-four,” she finally called, and her voice came from far away. She felt as though she were falling from a great height, but that she was safe, and no matter how far she fell, she would always land in his arms, his impossibly strong arms.

He did everything out of love.

“Happy birthday,” he said.

She wanted to thank him, to tell him she loved him, but tears were flowing, and she couldn’t speak. Her ass stung. Her heart overflowed. He loved her. She loved him, too, and the trust she gave to him, the trust he never failed to earn, was an ever-growing presence in their lives.

He would have to leave soon, some part of her realized, but whenever he left, whatever they did when he returned, she already knew nothing could match what they had just shared.

Tess couldn’t have asked for a better birthday.

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