Deuce's Dancer (3 page)

A variety of emotions crossed her face. Surprise. Confusion. Her cheeks got a little pink, and her nipples started to harden under her light, summer dress. And then she did something that made his cock twitch. The tip of her tongue snuck out and tested her lip. It was an unconscious gesture, but the sensuality it projected had him by the balls in a heartbeat.

"I won't have sex with you again, Deuce."

"Did I mention sex?"

"N-no…but…"

"Sometimes, sugar, a spanking is about teaching a woman a lesson."

"Look, Deuce, I'm sorry. I should have trusted you. You gave me no reason to think you'd betray my trust. I'm just used to hiding…this. You ought to be glad to be rid of me. Just take me home and we'll say hasta la vista."

"That's not what you want."

Her gaze darted to his face and then down to the hands in her lap. Deuce knew that the next words out of her mouth would be evasion, maybe even a lie. "You don't know what I want."

"If you could see yourself, Pilar." He leaned in and whispered. "Your whole body is screaming
fuck me
."

She gasped and glared at him. "It is not!"

Grinning, he nodded. "Don't lie, sugar."

"You're impossible. This is impossible."

Deuce shrugged and sipped his coffee casually, though he was concentrating hard on saying the right things as she teetered. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

She frowned. "What has that got to do with anything?"

"I'm re-thinking that sex thing."

There was that little tongue again. It was obvious that she was torn.

"But if you have to work, I don't want to keep you up all night."

"No, I don't but-" She caught herself and sighed.

Deuce felt a small surge of triumph. "But what?"

"Am I so transparent?"

"Yep, sugar. Like a crystal ball."

A little bit of the Angie he remembered came back with the slow, sensual smile that played on her lips. "Can I be on top?"

He laughed so hard that other diners turned to stare. "No, you cannot," he said, still chortling. "I intend to be lookin' at that red bottom as I have my evil way with you."

She frowned, but it was playful. "You're serious about that spanking."

"Not the fun kind, either."

"They're all fun."

They'd pretty much established that spanking turned her on while they were in Jamaica. He was only beginning to see the depth of that interest and he loved it. He stood and offered his hand. "You've been warned, sugar. Don't say I didn't tell you."

"Hmph."

She turned up her pert nose and flounced out like the queen of the world, utterly the opposite of the way she'd entered the place. Deuce watched her sashay away and he couldn't help a surge of pure, masculine pleasure at the mental image of her in his bed. He had been lonely there for way too long.

* * *

His house was big. Too big for one guy. He didn't even have a pet to share it with. And yet, Pilar noticed small hints of a woman's touch in nooks and corners. There was an unexpected flower vase, unused, but clean and ready, on one of his many bookcases. An embroidered pillow sat on his big, overstuffed couch. And, perhaps the most interesting thing was the large array of framed photos on the walls. Photos of all kinds, but mostly of the Texas countryside. They were exquisitely taken, too. Some were bright, colorful and cheery. Some were somber. All the seasons were on display, and more than a few horses and people. They were emotional and personal, even the landscapes.

While Deuce fixed them margaritas, she looked over the faces she saw on the walls. Deuce's family was easy to spot. There was a strong resemblance among his four brothers and sisters and his parents. He had his mother's blue eyes, unlike the other Journeys, but the rest of him was modeled after his handsome father. So many smiles graced those photos.

Pilar could tell by the hairstyles that only two of the pictures of people were recent. One was of the woman who must be Deuce's sister, Queenie. The musician. She was seated on a piano bench, the piano behind her, holding a pair of tiny babies in her arms. Deuce had proudly told Pilar that his sister had recently given birth to twins, so figuring out the photo was easy. But the other current-day photo was of a woman and a little boy. The woman was blonde, with light eyes. She was pretty, but her pose was a little contrived, unlike the other photos which were more candid. With the blonde woman was a little boy. He looked to be about five years old, and had dark hair and light eyes. She could easily see the resemblance between the boy and the woman who must be his mother, but the boy's dark hair and light blue eyes had Pilar wondering who the little boy's father might be. She stepped away quickly as Deuce came up with the drinks.

"These are beautiful photos, Deuce. Did you take them?"

He shrugged and nodded slightly. "A number of them. I like to take pictures of my family's ranch over by Sonora. There's always something different to see there, and always something warm and familiar, too." He raised his glass. "To starting over, Pilar. We'll get past your punishment and have a new beginning."

Pilar was uncomfortably reminded of the other secrets she was keeping from him. That would be a lousy way to begin a relationship. More than that, her reasons for keeping him in the dark still existed. He wouldn't want her if he knew how she'd made her living as a student. And he'd be appalled if he knew the truth about her brothers.

She sipped at her margarita and wondered what the hell she was doing there, with him, getting him all involved when it was the last thing she should do. He didn't deserve the havoc she'd create in his life. It was selfish of her to continue, but she couldn't help it. Deuce countered all her arguments and left her arguing with herself.

There was no denying that she wanted him, wanted him badly. It was wrong to allow him to go along thinking that everything was going to work out. She knew she'd have to break it off…if not tonight, soon. Within a week. Friday at the latest. She'd tell him the truth on Friday and then instead of wanting her, he'd push her away. That would be that.

But tonight. Tonight was something else entirely. Her bottom fairly itched with eagerness. Their sex play had been peppered with lovely spankings while in Jamaica. The very idea that he could mete out a spanking that didn't have her panting for more was plainly ridiculous.

He pointed out some of his family in his photos as they sipped their cocktails, but Pilar noted that he didn't talk about the one of the woman and boy. She licked the last grains of salt off the rim of her glass and gave him a coy look. "Who are these two?"

Deuce looked at the picture she pointed to and a shutter dropped over his eyes. "That's Stacy and Eddie. Stacy is my ex-girlfriend."

"Oh. Not wife, huh?"

"I told you that I haven't been married, Pilar."

She nodded, trying to look casual. It killed her not to ask about the boy, but she held back. It really was none of her business.

Deuce took the glass out of her hand and put it down on the table nearby. "Time to deal with that behavior problem."

"I know," she said, teasing. "I've been very naughty."

"You have no idea."

A delicious thrill ran through her limbs and she leaned into him, offering her face for a kiss. He didn't bend to accept her offer, though. Instead, he took her by the hand and tugged her along to his bedroom. His demeanor was subtly different, but Pilar couldn't put her finger on it. He was more stern, somehow, more…hard.

It was a warmly-appointed room, all done in brown and teal, with burl wood furniture and a king-sized bed. The bed interested her the most. She imagined what it was going to feel like having him fill her with hard heat while he spanked her. It had been too long. It shouldn't even be happening again so she wasn't going to squander this time together.

"Clothes on, or off?" she asked.

"Off. Not a stitch."

Pilar started to undress and then paused, looking up at him where he stood, tall and strong, a few feet away. "You, too."

He shook his head. "Not this time."

"But…"

"Finish undressing, Pilar."

It was all she could do not to stick her lip out with a pout. "Not even your shirt?"

"Not even my boots."

"Then I won't either." She stood firm, feeling a little foolish with her dress around her ankles and her bra dangling from her fingers. Naked, he was glorious, and she wasn't going to be denied that pleasure. If he thought he could just unzip and get some, he had another think coming.

"Yes, you will, sugar, or I won't spank you."

Biting her lip, she considered her options. If she cooperated, he'd spank her. He might also get undressed and give her the rest of what she wanted. Or, if she didn't cooperate, she'd have to eventually get dressed and go home with nothing more.

Not much of a choice. She'd given herself 'till Friday, and having made up her mind, she was going to be very upset to be denied.

"Alright, but I want-"

He held up a hand. "Remember what I said, Pilar. I gave you a foundation to build your trust on, and you squandered it. This is about a naughty girl getting punished."

"Oh. So like a stern headmaster paddling his recalcitrant girl student." A giggle burbled up. "I get it. You're a kinky guy, Dr. Journey. I like that about you."

"Let's see if you like me so well after your spankin'."

Grinning, she quickly took off her clothes and started for the bed.

"No. Stop." He started unbuckling his belt, and Pilar's heart sped up. He was finally going to get undressed!

"Hurry, Deuce."

After wrapping his hand with the leather, the buckle was in his palm and only a seven or eight inch loop was left. She eyed it suspiciously. He'd always used his hands on her before. But maybe a belt wouldn't be much different. It was kind of sexy, in fact. Deuce tested it on his palm and the snapping sound made her smile. Oh yes, it was sexy.

"Put your hands on the bed, Pilar." He looked positively cross. Obviously, he was playing the headmaster role to the hilt.

"Yes, sir!"

She leaned over and did as she was told. He came up behind her and spread her feet a bit wider apart with the toe of his boot. That was new, too. It seemed very stern and commanding. That kind of take-charge attitude wreaked havoc with her libido. There was growing wetness in her pussy. Her nipples got hard as her breasts dangled down toward the bed.

"Bend a little more," he told her. "Put your face on the bed."

Although it was a little disappointing not to be able to turn her head and see him standing there, all tall and broad-shouldered, she cooperated. The waiting was making her squirm, though, so she wiggled her butt at him in invitation.

"You don't want to be askin' for this, sugar."

"Come on, Deuce. I know you want to."

"Alright. You remember now, niña, that you asked."

"Now, now, now," she coaxed.

His arm went up and it came down with a vengeance. The pain was instantaneous and shocking in its intensity. Pilar gasped. "Ouch!"

Two more swats followed, each one snapping smartly on her behind harder than the one before it. She could feel the welts forming in little lines on her fanny. This was not fun. This was not what she'd expected. Instinct told her to curl away, but her emotions told her that she deserved everything he was dishing out, so she stayed put.

"Ouch! Deuce, you're hurting me!"

"It's punishment, Pilar. It's supposed to hurt." Half a dozen more hearty spanks hit her behind and she yelped with each one.

"Okay! I get it!" Another four swats and her butt was beginning to burn fiercely all over.

"I gave you no reason not to trust me, woman." More smacks followed. "Keeping secrets is no way to start a relationship."

Guilt warred with pain in her brain. "I was bad! I understand!"

He continued to spank, guiding the belt down her thighs and back up again.

"Please stop!"

"Do you want to go home now? Right now?"

Incredibly, she didn't. She had this spanking coming to her and she wanted to be free of the guilt for one miserable lie, even if the others plagued her. Shaking her head, she sobbed softly into the comforter.

 "Then I'll decide when you've had enough, Pilar."

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" She started to stand up, but he pushed her back down.

"We're not done yet."

"I'm sorry!"

Tears wet the bed under her face. The pain was worse than anything she'd ever experienced before. She knew she'd be bruised, maybe for days. To think she'd asked for this! Encouraged it! She must have been loco.

Deuce rounded out the fire on her butt with some well-placed smacks where her thighs and behind met and she sobbed and whimpered in response.

"Please. I'm so sorry," she told him. He'd warned her and he'd followed through. Deuce's word was good. "I trust you!"

He paused and she took a deep breath, gasping as her nose ran and tears streamed out of her eyes. "Okay." She started to unbend again, but his voice stopped her. "Hold on. No one told you you could get up."

"But…"

"I have somethin' else in mind."

Chapter 3

Pilar could feel the warmth of his hand on her behind. The heat radiated through her aching flesh and curled into her belly. He rubbed her gently, gliding over her skin in gentle circles. It was so soothing. Tension ebbed away, and, although the pain didn't lessen much, it was less important. His hand on her rump, down her thighs, against the lips of her pussy, was all that mattered.

She gasped—this time with pleasure—as he slid two fingers through her folds. She was wet from her before-spanking excitement, and his sensual rubbing was making more moisture accumulate. How she could be in so much pain and be excited all at the same time, she didn't know, but she wasn't about to tear it apart at that moment. The tips of his fingers brushed her swollen clit and she jumped as a bolt of electricity shot through her.

Moaning, she wriggled under his hand.

"Easy, woman," he told her in Spanish. Hearing the language of her childhood, so lovingly spoken during an intimate moment coiled a spring in her belly.

Two fingers entered her and she sighed with pleasure.

"Your cock," she whispered. "Please."

"Feelin' bossy?" There was a grin in his voice. He moved his fingers in and out, in the age-old motion, and the spring in her belly began to wind tighter and tighter. He had the key to release the pressure, but he was keeping it from her.

"Dios, that feels good."

As he withdrew his fingers, she whimpered. She wanted more. She was greedy with need. His zipper slid down and a she heard a wrapper being torn. A few moments later, hardness probed the entrance to her pussy.

"Ah, sugar. I've missed you." Slowly, he entered her. It was impossible not to squirm and press back against him, trying to speed things up, to coax him deeper, but he swatted her stinging ass and warned her not to do that again. "Slow and easy."

"No, Deuce. I want it hard and fast."

He laughed, his motions calculated to drive her right through the roof. But eventually, when she couldn't stand waiting anymore, he picked up the pace. His strokes became deeper, harder. They came more rapidly, his cock barely reaching the opening of her pussy before he slammed home again.

Pilar felt like an over-wound clock. Her cuckoos were going to come bursting out any minute to chime midnight. Slam, slam, slam, he drove her higher and higher until she balanced there, right on the precipice, exactly at the edge. Teetering, teetering, and then he swatted her one last time and the spring broke. She fell over the edge, spiraling down, her brain whirling in a kaleidoscope as she shuddered with release. Moaning his name, she panted as he pistoned a few more times into her and then came with a low growl.

Two minutes passed, then three, and finally he stepped back and slid out of her. She collapsed on the bed, curling into a little, satisfied ball, all moist and warm.

"No more deceit," he reminded her, and her sense of satisfaction slipped. He was sure to hate her on Friday, no matter how much he cared for her today.

* * *

"Daddy?"

Deuce cringed; it always went this way. "Hi, Eddie. You shouldn't call me that."

"You're
like
my daddy, right?" The little boy's voice was welcome, even if they did have the same conversation over and over again.

"I'm not your daddy, buddy. Your daddy's name is Don."

There was a childish sigh on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, I know. But I like you better."

It brought a smile to his face to know that he'd made a positive impression on the boy in the two years his mother and he had lived with Deuce. Eddie was only seven, so he really didn't understand how people he cared about could part ways. Still, he had to learn that he couldn't make things true just by wishing. "You should be calling me Deuce. You remember that now, hear?"

"Yes, sir."

Deuce shifted in his office chair. He was working late at the office, but he always made time for Eddie. Stacy never discouraged the boy from calling, and, although it was sometimes inconvenient, Deuce didn't have the heart to end the relationship with Eddie in the abrupt way he'd ended it with Eddie's mother. "So, how has baseball practice been?"

"Good. I got a home run yesterday!"

"I'll bet that's what you were calling to tell me about."

"Yeah! Mom said you'd want to know."

Of course she did. Stacy took any opportunity to keep her finger on Deuce's pulse, even if it meant using her son. "I'm proud of you."

"Just like a real daddy would be?"

"I'm sure your real daddy is proud of you, too, Eddie."

"I dunno. He hardly ever answers his phone."

"Be persistent. He calls you back eventually." Don Armintier was an asshole. Don and Stacy had broken up when Eddie was two years old after being together for six years, and Don had hardly looked back to see what he left behind. He talked to Eddie, so long as Eddie initiated the calls, and he was responsible with his child support payments. Apparently, that's all he could manage to do. He was an emotional deadbeat.

Of course, Stacy had her issues, too, so he could understand how Armintier might want to put some distance between himself and his ex-wife. But Deuce couldn't countenance how the man could also distance himself from his son so harshly.

"Can you come to my baseball game on Friday? We're playing the Barracudas."

He had a full schedule on Friday, and a speaking engagement on Friday night. "No, kiddo, I can't. Is your mom going to take you to the Astros game on Saturday?"

"No. She's getting her nails waxed."

Deuce chuckled. "Okay. How about if you ask her if it's okay for me to take you to the game? We'll use those season tickets I gave you for your birthday."

"Can't. Mom sold 'em."

He had to take a deep breath. Stacy didn't need the money that bad. She was a successful dietician. She'd likely done it in order to create some reason for Deuce to confront her. She didn't seem to care if their encounters were positive or negative, so long as they had them. But none of that was Eddie's fault and the boy deserved better than to be put in the middle. "Okay, bud. I'll try to score us some tickets. Ask your mom if you can go."

"Can you ask her?"

Eddie was a good kid, a really good kid. But he naturally had a child's simplistic way of viewing the world. To his young mind, if Deuce spent time with Stacy, even the time it took to have a conversation on the phone, they might get back together. It played right into Stacy's hands. "Yeah, okay. Put her on."

"Okay." There was some shuffling and Deuce could hear Eddie calling for his mother. The boy was running; Deuce heard his feet slapping the wood floors. More shuffling, and Stacy came on the line.

"Hi, Deuce." Her voice was a purr. It had once made Deuce feel like she'd caressed him with sound, but no more.

"Stacy. What happened with the Astros tickets?"

"Oh, I got into a little fender-bender and needed to have repairs done. It was
so
expensive!"

"I see." He could have checked up on her, but it wasn't worth the trouble. If she was lying to him, it would be far from the first time. "Are you going to make it up to Eddie?"

"He understands."

Deuce's blood began to boil. How could a seven-year-old understand something like that?
"You really are a bitch, Stacy."

She laughed. "So, maybe you'd like to come spank me and teach me a lesson?"

"I'm taking Eddie to the Astros game on Saturday. Have him ready by eleven."

"Can I come, too?"

"No."

"Aww, Deuce. You're so mean to me. You know how much I love fun and games."

The innuendo dripped from the phone, like so much mucilage. "Get your mind back on track, Stacy."

"Oh, it's on track. Believe me."

"Eddie. Saturday. Eleven. Got it?"

"I've got it. Will you stay for dinner afterwards? Eddie would like that so much. I would, too."

"Is he standing there listening to you?"

"Aha."

Deuce thought of about ten different epithets he'd like to throw at her, but he refrained. His father hadn't raised a barbarian, no matter the provocation. "I'll take Eddie for pizza. You can fend for yourself."

There was a pause. He knew she was trying to think of some way to get her way. "Maybe I'll see you at church on Sunday."

That would be the day. He went to mass every Sunday morning, had done so for as long as he could remember, but Stacy was anything but a church-goer. If she went on Christmas and Easter, it was enough for her. He hoped fervently that she wasn't going to start going regularly in order to have a new opportunity to buttonhole him. "Don't go on my account, Stacy. Much as your immortal soul needs redemption, I think it takes sincerity, along with knees on the kneeler."

"You want kneeling, Deuce? I can do that. I remember doing it."

He wanted to growl. "Enough. I'll see you on Saturday. Good night."

Fuming, he sat at his desk for another half hour and then packed up to leave. Concentration had fled, and all he wanted was to find his way home.

It was a cold comfort. He knew it would be lonely. Pilar had gone to work at around the same time as Deuce was heading off for the day. They'd agreed to talk on the phone that night, but nothing else had been planned. He was going to miss her.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Ms. Peréz, but we can't take payments of less than $200 per month on a bill that large. We have an office policy. I thought I made that clear when you called the last time."

Deuce put down the chart he'd been making notations on, and listened to the office manager's conversation. The name Peréz had gotten his attention. Was this Pilar? Dr. Stone must have more than one Peréz on her patient roster. But still…

"I understand that you want to pay, and we appreciate that, but it's our policy. The bill is well into the thousands. It would take quite a while to pay it off." There was a pause and then Joyce went on. "I know your father is uninsured. That's a shame. We can take ten percent off the total, Ms. Peréz, but that's all." She listened, twiddling with a pen and swiveling her head around to watch her receptionist doing her job. "I'm sorry, but Dr. Stone isn't expected back in the office for at least another two weeks."

Rather than letting it go on any further, Deuce gestured to her to put the call on hold.

"Can you hold a moment, please? Thank you." She pressed a button. "Yes, Dr. Journey?"

"Is that Pilar Peréz, Juan Peréz's daughter?"

"Yes, it is."

"Look," he said. "I know it's really up to Dr. Stone… What were the payments Ms. Peréz was proposing?"

"One hundred per month. But that's half of what we'd normally accept on a bill that size."

He nodded, wondering how far he could take his authority—both with Dr. Stone's practice and with Pilar. "Go with what she's offering. I'll talk to Dr. Stone myself. I'm sure she'll be alright with this."

"I don't know. Dr. Stone is pretty firm about her payment plans."

He held up a hand to stop her from going on. "Don't worry about it. I don't plan to get in the habit. Pilar Peréz is a friend of mine and her family could use a break."

Joyce's gray eyes got a little more interested. "A friend of yours?"

Deuce frowned. He didn't much need gossip going around. "Just make the arrangements, Joyce. And don't mention to Pilar that I'm doing this."

"Don't mention…

"You heard me right."

"Yes. Of course."

Despite having a full schedule the rest of the day, Deuce couldn't get Pilar's request for payment assistance off his mind. If things were that tight for them with regard to this medical bill, why didn't she ask him to help out after Joyce had turned down her first request? Oh sure, she'd never actually ask him for money; he could understand that. But she could have asked him if he could organize a payment arrangement. He'd have gladly done so.

She was too proud and independent by half. She had to let some of that go if they were going to make the relationship work. He wanted to be there for her and help her with this kind of thing, especially in matters he was involved with.

It made him irritated and disappointed that, once again, she'd kept him out.

Deuce finished his work for the day and went home. He had a date with the stubborn Señorita and it was going to be an evening to remember.

* * *

Deuce's breath caught as Pilar opened her apartment door to him. She looked like the quintessential 1950's homemaker, complete with scooped-neck pink dress, white high-heels, and an adorable lace-edged apron with bright red apples silkscreened on it. Her long, dark hair was pulled back from her face with a pink headband. She couldn't have been more desirable had she worn a teddy and hooker heels.

Deuce offered her a bottle of good quality cabernet sauvignon and took a hug that ended up being a hot clinch. He took the time to explore her sweet mouth thoroughly with his tongue, nibbling on her lips. She was anything but passive to his ardor, matching his movements and adding a few new ones of her own. When they broke, Pilar was half-panting and her eyes had darkened with arousal.

"Something smells good," he said, nuzzling her neck.

She hummed and tilted her head, encouraging him. "Enchiladas."

He laughed softly. "I meant you, chiquita."

"Oh, well… I suppose I'm glad I don't smell like enchiladas, though I would hope I'd smell as tasty."

"I'd like to eat you up."

She grinned as she carefully pushed him away. "You're making me squirmy, spank-man."

He gave her a swat on the rump as she took the wine deeper into her apartment. It was only a few steps into her tiny kitchen, but he could have found it easily by the mouthwatering aroma coming from it.

It was a bright white space, decorated with apple-themed calendar, pot-holders, canisters. Cheerful and homey though small, it reflected her sweetness perfectly.

She searched around until she came up with a corkscrew, then struggled with getting the foil off the top of the wine bottle.

"How about if I do that for you?"

"I can manage."

"Don't cut yourself."

She scowled. "I'm perfectly capable…" The bottle slipped as she tried to twist the corkscrew into the cork. "Ack."