Page 22 of Balance

“Can you imagine? Flying already feels like being a sardine in a can. Stacking passengers on top of each other would really sell it.”

“Good thing I don’t fly very often, because that mental image isn’t leaving my brain for a while.”

“Do you want dessert?” Matthew asked, even though I hadn’t finished my dinner. And likely wouldn’t.

“I couldn’t eat it if I wanted to.”

“How about a walk? There’s a trail that goes along the river.”

“I’d like that.”

Usually, when the eating part of a date was over, the guys I’d been with wanted to get to the part where we took our clothes off. But Matthew paid the bill, we left our cars in the parking lot, and he led me, hand in hand, to the trail.

The sun was low in the sky, and the light sparkled off the water making parts of the swift moving river look like it had captured the sun and imprisoned it below the surface. Matthew slid his hand in mine, threading our fingers together. The pace he set was slow and leisurely, and the fact that there were so few people around made it a good time to ask things I was dying to know.

“What do you get out of it?” I asked, not quite knowing if that was the question that would get me the answers I wanted.

“Out of what?”

“Spanking people.”

“Pleasure,” Matthew answered automatically. “Pleasure first. It’s honestly hot as hell to have someone over your knee, knowing that they consented to be there. Knowing that after each strike they continue to consent.”

“Well, it’s hot as hell to be on the receiving end of that, I promise.”

He laughed softly and tugged me a little closer. “It also satisfies something inside of me that wants to help someone who can’t seem to settle. It’s a powerful feeling to be able to bring calm to someone’s chaos.”

“I think you get the short end of the stick. My ass got a juicy paddling, and all you got was a red hand.”

“All I got was a beautiful man in my lap, allowing himself to be vulnerable with me. I assure you that I don’t feel shorted. Not even a little.”

His words took the wind out of me. For the life of me, I’d been unable to imagine the appeal of being on the other side of the situation. I hadn’t been able to put myself in his shoes, and I still couldn’t, if I were being truthful. I didn’t want to be responsible for someone else that way.

“I still think I get the better end of the deal,” I told him after a minute.

Matthew just laughed and dropped my hand so he could drape his arm around my shoulders and tuck me in against his side. He was a little taller than me, and more solid. He had wide shoulders and arms that felt powerful. I remembered the strength of his hand as it had come cracking down on my bare ass.

“So I’m like this… this honest brat that you like to spank? What does that make you?” Deep down, I thought I knew the answer before he said it. I knew the truth of it in the marrow of my bones once he did.

“Well, ideally, it makes me Daddy.”

“Ideally?”

I felt him shrug. “Some people aren’t comfortable with the title. And I try not to let it become a dealbreaker, but…”

“But it is.”

“Not everyone wants a daddy. Even if they are a brat. Even if they act like they need one.” He tried to laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. Just this deep, hard-edged sadness that even the sands of time hadn’t been enough to soften.

We walked in silence for a while. It was like he knew I needed some time to roll things around in my head. To say things to myself and see how they felt in my brain. To test how they made my body feel. And maybe he needed time too, preparing himself for possible rejection.

“So would I call you Daddy all the time or only when I’ve been bad?”

Matthew’s steps stuttered, and when he recovered, he pulled me closer and dropped a kiss against my hair. “That’s part of those negotiations I talked about earlier. You have to decide what you’re comfortable with.”

“I’m comfortable with you. Can that be enough for now?”

He stopped and turned so he was facing me. He glanced around, then pulled me close. “Like I said, almost everything is negotiable.”