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  My Charming Valentine

  A Corbin’s Bend Valentine’s Day Novella

  By

  Maggie Ryan

  ©2015 by Blushing Books® and Maggie Ryan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Ryan, Maggie

  My Charming Valentine

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-702-8

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About Maggie Ryan

  New from Blushing Books: Love in the Rockies

  New from Blushing Books: When the Gavel Falls

  New from Blushing Books: Emma’s Corner: The Darkness Series, Book Two

  New from Blushing Books: Submitting Sarah: Montana Maiden Series, Book Four

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  Chapter One

  “A game? You want to play a game on Valentine’s Day?” Phoebe gave her husband a suspicious look. “What kind of game? Don’t think I’ve forgotten the last game we played. Every time I pass a tree, my butt twitches.”

  Patrick grinned. “I promise, this one you will enjoy and technically, Valentine’s Day isn’t until tomorrow.” He reached over and pulled her onto his lap. “Besides, I’m thinking someone protests too much. As I recall, your beautiful bottom wasn’t the only thing twitching by the time the game was over.”

  He loved her blush as it moved up her body to color her cheeks. They had played hundreds of games during their relationship. An entire shelf in their closet was stacked with board games of every kind. Not having had a great deal of money during their first few years of marriage, they’d often made an evening of playing games, eating popcorn and drinking cheap wine instead of going out.

  Their kids had continued to look forward to game night, often inviting their friends to join in the Friday night tradition until they had gone off to college. Now both Katy and Sam had married and moved to different parts of the country. Both had been a bit shocked when their parents had sold the home they’d grown up in to move to a spanking community in Colorado.

  Patrick and Phoebe had always had a traditional marriage, where he was the head of the household. They’d not kept it hidden from their kids, but they didn’t advertise the fact that their mother got spanked when she broke a rule, either. When Katy figured it out, she spent months trying to convince her mother that it was the twenty-first century and not the 1950’s. Even though her mother was patient and would sit for hours and reassure her daughter that this was the life she wanted to live, it had been Sam who'd reminded his sister that their parents were grown-ups and had the right to make their own choices. Still it had taken a visit to Corbin’s Bend to convince Katy that her parents had not joined a cult and that both appeared even happier and closer than before.

  Though those years of watching every penny were long gone, Patrick and his wife still enjoyed playing games together. However, one evening about a month ago, she had been getting grouchier with every roll of the dice during a game of backgammon. When he kept rolling double after double, sending several of her pieces to the bar, she’d thrown a fit as well as the dice.

  She had been almost as shocked as her husband. He might have been able to forgive the tantrum, but he certainly hadn’t been about to forgive the colorful words she'd screamed as the dice hit the wall. Before she knew it, she was outside selecting the switch that would soon be searing her backside. After choosing one and breaking it off, she’d cursed again when it snapped in two, neither piece long enough to be acceptable. He hadn’t hesitated to move from where he’d been leaning against the tree to deliver a sharp swat to the seat of her pajamas. She’d yelped loudly and thrown the switch away, only to see their neighbor’s dog attempting to pull his master into the yard so he could play fetch. Though the neighbor didn’t say a word, Patrick had been able to tell from Phoebe's blush that she knew the man could easily figure out what she was doing and why. He’d remained silent as she cut a proper switch. Back inside, he’d bent her over the arm of the couch, divested her of her pj bottoms and panties, and given her a dozen licks of the switch. After she'd spent a half hour in the corner with her striped rear on display, he’d forgiven her—as well as comforted her in a far more pleasant game.

  “Are there going to be any switches involved in this game?” she asked, as she trailed her finger down his naked chest.

  Patrick patted her hip. “Babe, that would depend on you.” He captured her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her palm. “I promise that no dice are involved. You won’t need luck to win. All you’ll need is to do some role playing and use that very creative mind of yours.”

  That statement appeared to pique her interest. “Role playing? So, let me get this straight. I am going to play some sort of role and that is going to make this the best Valentine’s weekend ever?” She batted her eyes as she looked up at him. “Do I get to be the director and boss you around?”

  He laughed as he easily moved her again, pinning her on her back, her hands above her head, captured in one of his. “There’s only one director in this game, and believe me, little girl, it’s not you. Before we begin the game, perhaps I should remind you who the boss is. Let’s see if you can remember your lines.”

  Shrieks filled the room as his free hand began to tickle her from her armpit to her waist, until she was squirming beneath him and gasping for breath.

  “I give!” she squealed. “You’re the boss!”

  Patrick changed the game as he sat her up only long enough to remove her nightgown. He began by kissing her forehead, her cheeks, and then her mouth until she was gasping for breath again. He kissed her neck and her throat, slowly moving down her body to capture a taut nipple, lathing it with his tongue before suckling hard and giving it a gentle bite. Her moan made him grin as he treated her other breast with the same attention until she was squirming for another reason.

  His mouth continued to move down her body, his lips pausing to suckle or take tiny nips against her skin. She arched as his free hand moved between her thighs, pushing her legs apart. Her panties proved to be no obstacle as he simply pulled the gusset aside, using his tongue to give her a long, slow lick before he released her hands to peel the garment down her legs, tossing it onto the floor.

  “Who’s the director?” he asked, as his lips moved to nibble up her inner thigh, sliding a finger into her slick pussy.

  “You are,” she managed, even as she gasped when he added another finger and began to stroke slowly in and out of her. She’d once told him he could have her forget her own name when he made love to her so slowly and deliberately. He’d decided it was quite a compliment and made sure she’d never feel rushed. Her legs were
quivering as his head dipped again to kiss, lick and suckle on her clit. He felt her fingers running through his hair, attempting to press him closer, to hurry him along. Instead, he released her clit, only to blow gently across the pulsing bud as he gave her tiny licks everywhere but where she craved them.

  “Please, Pat, I need to come,” she moaned, her hands leaving his head, acknowledging that he and he alone was in control.

  He lifted his head. “No directing, remember?” he teased, and then bent again to suck the entirety of her clit into his mouth before biting down. She arched up and screamed as she exploded.

  Patrick moved over her, entering her in one thrust. Her scream was captured as his mouth pressed against hers. Gentleness disappeared as he took her hard and fast until her hands were gripping the sheets and her body was moving to meet every movement of his in a well-practiced dance.

  “Come with me,” he growled as he slid his hands beneath her, cupping her buttocks as he lifted her. Pushing deep, his hips flexing, he thrust in and out of her. “I want you to come hard and I want you to come now.” With a final thrust, he buried himself in her and she obeyed. Her muscles contracted, milking his length as he emptied into her. Phoebe’s arms and legs, which had been wrapped around him, now slid to the mattress as if every muscle had disappeared.

  When he rolled to his back, he pulled her with him until she was on top, her head lying against his chest. Several minutes passed as they recovered and then she came back to life as his hand popped against her bare butt.

  “Ow! What was that for?” she demanded, as her hand moved behind her to rub the spot.

  “Because, my love, you are screwing with my schedule.”

  “Oh, I thought I was screwing the director,” she teased as she wiggled off of him. Another squeal came as the result of another harder swat before she could climb off the bed. She ran to the door of the bathroom and turned back. “By the way, did I get the part?”

  His answer was to walk towards her, his eyes roaming up and down her body. Reaching her, he slid his hands around her waist. She melted against his chest as he bent to kiss her. He pushed his tongue between her lips and felt hers tangling with his and her hand dropped to encircle his cock.

  Patrick pulled back and grinned. “Hmm, you don’t seem quite innocent enough to be my ingénue, but you’ve definitely got the part of the woman I’ll love forever.”

  “That’s the only role I wish to play.”

  An hour later, they had showered and dressed and were in the kitchen. Patrick handed her a mug of coffee he’d made using their Keurig before making his own. When she moved to the refrigerator and took out the carton of eggs, he shook his head.

  “No cooking today.”

  “But I’m starving,” she protested as he took the carton and put it back.

  “Then, I suggest you start the game.”

  “You’re really serious? I thought maybe we’d already played.” When he shook his head, she grinned. “Since you said there are no switches, I’m game.”

  “Ah, ah,” Patrick said, shaking his finger at her. “I never said there were no switches. I said that depended upon you. What I did say was that you will assume the role of one of your favorite characters. I’ll also say this will be a game where you and I will travel down memory lane.” He grinned. “Oh, and there are prizes.”

  Her smile showed she was intrigued. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

  Patrick shook his head and beckoned to her. She took his hand and allowed him to settle her onto the couch.

  “Don’t move,” he instructed.

  “Ah, we’re playing freeze tag!”

  Patrick chuckled as he left the room. He returned balancing one of her silver serving trays on the palm of one hand. A bud vase held a single rose. Beside it lay a red envelope, her name written in silver script across the front.

  Smiling, she bent forward to sniff the heady fragrance of the flower before picking up the envelope. She looked up, her eyes bright. “May I open it?”

  “Please,” he said, putting the tray on the coffee table and taking a seat beside her. She opened the envelope and pulled out a heavy piece of parchment that was folded in half.

  Looking up, she grinned. “I’m playing the part of Sherlock Holmes… or am I supposed to be Watson?”

  Patrick shook his head. She had a tendency to go with the first thing that popped into her head. She’d need to restrain that tendency. Tapping the paper, he read the written phrase aloud. “The Game is Afoot – what does that mean?”

  She looked down and he could swear he could hear gears turning in her head. After a moment, she smiled. “Well, it was a play, but since this is a game, I’m guessing you are going with the definition that game means some sort of diversion?”

  Patrick was impressed. “Yes, but not exactly a diversion. More like a game where you will use your mind to solve clues. Perhaps I should tell you the rules.”

  “There are rules?”

  “There are always rules, my dear. And, of course, consequences for breaking those rules.”

  “I thought there were prizes.”

  “Staying with the Sherlock theme, the prizes are really ‘spoils’. The only rule is that the outcome of the game depends on your skills. If you are successful, you’ll have plenty of bounty. Every time you need assistance, there will be a penalty to pay.” He gave her a moment, but when she remained silent, he continued. “You told me that you used to pretend you were this girl and loved to solve puzzles. This is my attempt to let you relive a bit of your favorite game.”

  “A scavenger hunt,” she whispered, her smile growing. “You’re sending me on a scavenger hunt.”

  “Yes, and what role shall you play?”

  Chapter Two

  She had no idea where this was going, yet realized she was already having fun. He was usually so serious but was acting more like the man she’d fallen in love with almost forty years ago. They had married young, she having just turned twenty and Patrick being twenty-two. The fact that he’d obviously given this game a lot of thought had her heart filling. She’d started the game when the kids were young. Being on a tight budget, having to solve clues to find their presents had not only stretched out the fun of Christmas morning, it had become a beloved tradition. Patrick had turned the tables and she couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day.

  Phoebe smiled, remembering hours when she’d sat in the bathtub, the water slowly going colder as she lost herself in a book. Her favorites were those written by Carolyn Keene. The bathroom was the only place where she would not be bothered by her little sisters, and she’d traveled to faraway places, solved mystery after mystery and had her first crush on Nancy’s friend Ned. She had read each of the books at least three times. Looking up at him, she gave her answer, “Why, Nancy Drew, of course.”

  He nodded and tapped the card in her hand. She lifted the flap of the note and read the first clue.

  Nancy’s Mysterious Letter

  Closing her eyes, she watched titles pass beneath her eyelids as she sought the one she needed. Remembering Patrick had said that the game would be a walk down memory lane, obviously involving things that had special meaning for their life together, she only opened her eyes when she felt she had the answer.

  “In the book, Nancy and her friends are having cocoa and snacks. There is a postman and they invite him to join them. He leaves his mail pouch outside on the porch.” She smiled as she stood up. “So, since I’m married to my own postman, I’m guessing the mail box?”

  Patrick gave a small bow. As she headed towards the door, he stopped her. “It’s cold out, get your coat if you’re going outside.”

  “I’m just going to the mailbox,” she said, and continued across the room.

  “Deciding to pay a penalty already?” he asked, in a tone that had her freezing for a moment before turning to look back at him. He wasn’t holding a single implement and yet she felt her bottom clench. He was very adamant about her health, a
s she’d had pneumonia more than once.

  Changing directions, she headed towards the closet instead. Opening the door, she gasped. Usually full to overflowing, the jumble of coats, jackets, and sweaters had been pushed apart to leave a single item hanging in the center. Looking back again, she saw that Patrick had moved to stand behind her.

  “You can’t be Nancy without the proper clothing.” He smiled and stepped around her to remove the coat from its hanger. It was a trench coat, like the ones the young sleuth was wearing on a few of the book covers. Unlike Nancy’s, this was red, the lining a black, white and red plaid fleece. After he helped her into it, tying the belt with a square knot, he kissed her cheek. “Now you may go get your next clue, Nancy.”

  Stroking a hand down the soft suede of the coat, she first went up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you, honey. I think I love this game.”

  “Just remember that if you find yourself having to pay a penalty.”

  She giggled and walked out to get her next clue. Opening the mailbox, she found another red envelope.

  Another card was inside and she opened it to read the clue.

  An angel’s box arrived when I was filled with gloom – until my buddies and I each found a spoon.

  The memory flooded into her as if it were yesterday. Passing her husband, she immediately went into the kitchen. “This one is far too easy,” she said, as she walked to where the cookie jar sat on the counter. Lifting the lid, she put her hand inside and withdrew it, only to find a rather stale looking cookie in her hand. Puzzled, she looked into the jar to see nothing else inside. Confused, she replaced the lid, not even conscious of the fact she had actually taken a bite of the cookie. Her stomach protested the dry, crumbly fare with a loud rumble.

  “I thought it meant the time—” Not completing her thought, she dropped the cookie into the trash and turned to face Patrick. “Ange’s Angel Cakes! That’s right, isn’t it?”