Her Old-Fashioned Husband

Laylah Roberts

Her Old-Fashioned Husband

© 2012, Laylah Roberts

Self publishing

[email protected]

[email protected]

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this 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 express written permission from the author / publisher.

This story contains the consensual spanking of an adult woman. This story contains explicit sex scenes, spanking, anal play, paddling and figging. R18

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me with my stories. This is a fantastic journey and is hopefully just beginning.

I hope you enjoy Frankie’s story. It didn’t turn out the way I thought it would, but that shouldn’t surprise me, Frankie is a strong character and she knew what she wanted. I originally had a stalker chasing her, but she reckoned she’d have kicked any stalker’s butt.

I believe her…

Laylah


Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

T
welve
years ago...

Rick shoved his hand beneath her t-shirt, his movements clumsy and rough. He worked his way up to her breast as Frankie did her best to hide her shudders of revulsion.

She longed to push him away, but made herself stay still for a bit longer. S
he owed him.
E
very other time he’d tried to grope her
, she’d shoved him away,
and she knew he was fast running out of patience.
U
nfortunately
,
she had a few good reasons for keeping him happy.

He had a car. He had a fake ID. He knew where all the parties were.

And he didn’t know her brothers. Thank God. If he did, he’d probably be too scared of them to ever help her sneak off to parties and get drunk. But damn she wished he’d catch a hint. The stupid jerk either didn’t understand or didn’t care that she was not about to sleep with him.

Yuck, gross.

But
while she had no intention on having sex with him,
she had decided to throw him a bone
—w
hich was why she was putting up with his hand currently squeezing her breast to the point of bruising as his hot, sweet breath bathed her face. He leaned in for a kiss and F
rankie quickly closed her eyes.

Rick
slipped
his tongue
inside her mouth, making her shudder in revulsion. Ick, his breath stuck of tobacco and alcohol.

So revolting.

At nineteen,
Rick might be four years older than her, but he was still gangly and immature. He had pimples for goodness sake. No, she wasn’t interested in him at all. Now, if it was Tom Sanders kissing her, Frankie would be melting at the knees. She bet Tom didn’t slobber like a bulldog when he kissed a girl.

Tom was
a friend of her
brother
, Brax,
and truly the most gorgeous boy Frankie had ever met. He was the same age as Rick, but
worlds
apart in immaturity and looks. He had thick blond hair, bright
,
sparkling blue eyes and a smile that made her stomach shiver when it was aimed her way.

Frankie turned her head and pushed her hands against his chest.

“No, Rick,” she told him.

He
stared at her through eyes glaz
ed from too much alcohol and pot
. What a loser.

Yeah, well
,
what does that make me, then?

This was a bad idea. But s
he didn’t care.
She didn’t.
What else did she have to do? Sit in her room and think about her parents? She blinked back tears. No crying. She hadn’t cried since the day she’d learned her mom and dad and died in a car crash
three months ago
. She wasn’t about to start bawling now. If she did then she didn’t know if she’d ever stop.

“Come’n, Frankie,”
Rick
slurred. “Don’t be a bitch.”

“How am I being a bitch by asking you not to paw me?” she snapped, irritated. She was starting to think that this wasn’t worth the hassle.

Frankie pulled at his arm, trying to tug it away from where he’d latched onto her breast.

“You owe me.” He glared down at her, his eyes darkening with anger.

Crap.

“How you figure that?” she said belligerently. He crowded closer. Frankie stepped back until her back hit a wall.
Uh-oh.

Alarm bells rang in her head. For a skinny guy, he was looking awfully large all of a sudden.

“Back off, Rick, I don’t owe you a fucking thing.”

She held back a wince as she swore, half-expecting someone to scold her. Swearing in her house would get her mouth washed out with soap for sure.

Not that anyone had told her off lately. She’d let a four-letter word slip yesterday in front of Kent, her second oldest brother, and he hadn’t even blinked.

Frankie supposed without her parents here to enforce the
rules;
her brothers didn’t care much what she did.

So why did you sneak out to of the house instead of being a grown-up and telling Heath where you were going?

Her oldest brother was also the most serious. He wasn’t one to bend or compromise. A rule was a rule.

And Frankie had broken so many. Her curfew. Leaving the house without telling anyone where she was going. Hanging out with people her family hadn’t met. Drinking. Smoking.

Yep, if Heath ever caught her, she was dead meat. Her ass would ache for days after he got through with her.

Or else he’d ignore her, like all her brothers seemed to be doing lately. She wasn’t really sure what was worse. Being forgotten or being spanked.

Rick tightened his hand around her breast. Frankie fought against showing any reaction even though she was certain she’d have bruises tomorrow.

Why wasn’t anyone coming to help her?

Because they’re all drunk or high, you idiot,
she answered her own question.

“You owe me
this. Y
ou’ve been leading me on. Who’s been picking you up, driving you around? Who bought you that beer? Hmm? What you think you have between your legs, fucking gold?”

“Fuck you.” She pushed at him, pounding her fists, fear cu
tting through the alcohol buzz.
“Get off me!” she yelled. Surely that would bring one of their group to her rescue.

“Hey, Rick, you need some help there?” One of the boys yelled. The others snickered.

Rick’s face went bright red.

Shit. Not good.

Frankie struggled in earnest, using her legs, her hands, her teeth, everything she could to get away from the asshole pawing at her.

Her t-shirt ripped. Her heart pounded heavily, so fast she thought she’d
expire. But she couldn’t faint.
T
hen he would win.

Tiring, she’d started
sobbing
when suddenly he was gone and before her was a broad back covered in a blue t-shirt. Frankie gasped frantically, her entire body shaking with fear and shock.

“Get up, asshole, so I can push you back down,” the guy standing between her and Rick snarled.

Frankie swayed. What the hell was Tom doing here?

“Tom?” she asked quietly, hating the way her voice shook.

Tom turned to look at her and the fury on his face took her breath away. His
eyes
softened slightly as he studied her face. Then he dropped his gaze to her ripped t-shirt and his eyes grew dark, stormy. Furious.

He turned around again, his body stiff with tension. Frankie peered around his back to see Rick pick himself up off the ground.

“What the hell you doing? She’s my girlfriend, we were just having fun,” Rick whined. God, he was a dick.

“That true, Frankie?” Tom asked without looking back at her. “Were you having fun?”

“No,” she spat out in disgust. She tried to move around Tom to face Rick, but Tom swung his arm back, holding her behind him.

“Stay put,”
he ordered. Frankie stilled in
surprise. He’d never spoken to her like that before. Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back. She was tougher than this.

Tom pointed at Rick. “Touch her again, hell, even look at her again and I will make sure you sing soprano for the rest of your life. Got me?”

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Rick said with false bravado. “What you gonna do? We got you surrounded.”

Tom swung his arm back and punched Rick in the nose. Frankie winced as Rick squealed loudly in pain.

“That’s what I’m gonna do,” he told Rick calmly.

Frankie ducked
around to one
side, ignoring Tom’s growl of warning.

Rick stared at his friends as he lay on the ground, his nose dripping blood. Wow, Tom had obviously broken it. She didn’t think he was the fighting
type;
he’d always seemed so good-natured.

“Why are you guys just standing around?” Rick whined

“
If h
e wants to take the
bitch
, let him, Rick,” a dark-haired guy said. “She’s not worth fighting over.”

Rick’s face went purple. “What the fuck you saying, Alec, you saying you’re not going to back me up against this asshole? He’s one guy, we can easily take him.”

“Yeah, but I
’ve
seen him playing ball,” Alec replied. “He’s tough, man. Just leave it alone.”

A couple of the others nodded.

The few girls in the group stared at Tom with a combination of admiration and lust. Frankie glared at them.

“Do not ever touch her again,” Tom growled.

Frankie couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction she got from his protectiveness. When her brothers got this way, it was annoying. With Tom, well, she got all quivery.

“Frankie, let’s go.”

Tom turned and held out his hand. Frankie took it, using her other han
d to hold her t-shirt together.
She rushed to keep up with Tom who set a brisk pace through the house.

“Wait, slow down.”
Digging her heels in, Frankie tried desperately to get him to stop.

She’d known Tom for
years
—
he’d spent half his childhood at their house. Now that he’d left high school and
was attending
college she saw less of him, which was a damn shame.

Because she had one hell of a crush on him.

Right now, though, she was confused as hell about what he was doing here. And why he was in such a rush.

“Tom, let me go,” she’d demanded, tugging at the arm he held, as he continued to half-drag her through the house. She wasn’t even sure whose house it was.