Naked and Defiant
Authors: Breanna Hayse
Tags: #spanking, #domestic discipline, #otk, #spanking romance, #blushing books
By
Breanna Hayse
Hayse
Published by Blushing Books
at Smashwords
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Published by Blushing Books®,
a subsidiary of
ABCD Graphics and Design
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The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent and Trademark
Office.
Hayse, Breanna
Naked and Defiant
eBook ISBN:
978-1-62750-4461
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics and 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.
CHAPTER 1
Griffon kicked his feet up over the side of
the small cabin cruiser and shifted his favorite straw hat over his
eyes. Picking up a beer, he released a loud, satisfied sigh.
Finally! Except for the sound of the water lapping against the hull
and the occasional squawking of a nearby seabird, things were
quiet. He was a man at peace, alone off the shores of his private
South Pacific island, and completely content with a fishing rod and
a cooler full of his personal reserve of icy-cold Trappist
Westvleteren's 12 beer.
It was over. The ugly divorce that stretched
out for nearly two years was settled. He was free of the constant
screaming, nagging and irrational demands of a women who had
married him for his money and had no intent of remaining faithful.
She had been caught in his bed with an old school chum and had
offered no reason other than she was bored.
Bored. With access to millions of dollars,
she was bored? How the hell ... Griffon stopped himself from going
down that path. It was over, and she lost. The smartest thing he
had done was having her sign a prenup, upon insistence by his
personal attorney, Tasha Hart. Tash was his 'right hand man', the
corporate counsel for his company and his closest friend. She was
someone he trusted with his life and knew she would never send him
in the wrong direction. Griffon chuckled to himself, recalling how
many times Tasha had gloated—and subsequently paddled—after the
notarized prenup was enacted. She continued to rub her wisdom in
Griffon's face as his ex-wife walked away with only a couple of
suitcases, a 'pity' check of $500.00, and a case of herpes (a gift
from his former friend). Tasha then forced him to get a full
medical examination and start his new life with a clean bill of
health and a month-long vacation indulging himself by doing
whatever he wanted.
This was his dream: to live on an unmanned
island far away from people, with no phone or computer access, no
board meetings, no wearing a suit or answering a phone call at two
in the morning. Griffon gulped down the remainder of his beer and
reached for another bottle, savoring the refreshing cold as the
blazing heat surrounded him. It was a warm day for April—about 87
degrees, but with a 97% humidity level, doing anything but fishing
and drinking beer was considered an effort.
Yep
, he tossed
his line in again;
there was nothing like the peace and quiet of
a man alone with his fishing pole, his favorite hat, and a bottle
of the best brew money could buy
. He calculated staying on the
reef for just another hour and then anchor on the island, explore
his new purchase and set up camp. He mentally ran through the gear
he had brought with him for the one-month stay, chuckling as he
reconsidered the prospect of rehydrating the steaks. He could
certainly rough it, but hell, why bother, if he didn't have to?
There were more enjoyable ways to use my energy
, he thought
as he began to reel in his lure.
While buying an island in the middle of
nowhere was a bit extreme to ensure privacy, assurance that he
would be isolated and undisturbed while he recharged was well worth
the headache and expenses the purchase initially incurred.
Non-locals were rarely given purchasing power, so he had pulled
strings, returned favors, and nearly sold his soul to obtain this
tiny piece of property. Griffin shuddered with disgust, thinking of
how hard his ex-wife worked to emasculate him. How could he have
allowed that woman to manipulate him so badly?
Well
, he
thought as he cast his line over the waves,
that certainly will
never happen again in this lifetime.
His brow drew to a frown as the loud roar of
an engine reached his ears. A speedboat? Two questions crossed
Griffon's mind:
What type of blooming idiot would take a
speedboat into the reef's shark-infested waters, and what the hell
was another boat doing here?
It made no sense, for not only was
this particular chain of deserted islands unpublished on standard
navigation charts, but the waterways around the small pieces of
land were considered off-limits to tourists and thrill-seekers.
With a growl, the darkly tanned, unshaved
founder of Badger-Clark industries sat up to glare in the direction
of the intruder. He could hear the slowing of the engine around the
bend of the volcanic rock island and the sound of voices. A man and
woman were fighting heatedly. Muttering several choice words under
his breath, Griffin lifted the heavy anchor into the boat and
dipped the paddle into the shallow, razor-sharp reef. It was time
to leave his quiet fishing hole and stake out his territory.
A loud scream interrupted his grumbling.
Paddling harder to get away from the dangerous projections of the
reef below, Griffon finally reached an area where it was safe to
strike the small engine and investigate the source of the noise. As
he rounded the bend, he watched the invading speedboat flying away,
its bow high above the waves and a slender, dark-haired man at the
throttle.
"Help me!" A woman called out. "Please, help
me!"
Griffon turned his head to see a naked woman
swimming in his direction. Her face was extremely pale, and a large
streak of blood colored her forehead.
Shit! So much for peace
and quiet!
"You are going to attract sharks with that
blood, woman. What the hell happened?" Griffon demanded, hauling
her out of the water with one strong arm.
"I was having a fucking pool party and fell
asleep drinking a glass of wine," came the sarcastic response, in a
thick Australian accent. "Are all men idiots? What the hell do you
think happened?"
Griffon stared blankly at her, suppressing a
groan. Some shrews were best left for shark bait. Wordlessly, he
returned to his fishing and propped his deck shoes on the rail.
"You don't talk much, do you?" the women
commented, folding her arms around her naked body. "Do you have a
towel?"
"Nope," Griffon answered, tossing his line
back into the water and closing his eyes.
"I demand you take me to the mainland."
"Nope."
The woman hissed, "I am not asking you; I am
telling you. Take. Me. To. Shore."
"Listen up, lady," Griffon peeked out from
under the floppy hat, "I am on a well-earned vacation after being
freed from living for four years with a woman as rude and
ungrateful as you are. I will not be told what to do or when to do
it, and I sure as hell am not going anywhere until I damned well
please. Got it?"
"Oh, really? Now, you listen here, mister.
My name is Jade Brockton. I am heiress to the Brockton luxury
cruise line and ..."
"Close your yap or you are going back in
that water. I don't dance to anyone's tune, not even Miss Jade
Brockton or her rich daddy."
"There will be a reward for my safe
return!"
"Don't need a reward. All I need is some
peace and quiet. There's a first aid kit below deck. Clean your
face," Griffon ordered. He watched out of the corner of his eye as
the woman rose with an audible huff. Nice body, he mused, round and
full in all the right places. Especially the rump.
"Keep your eyes to yourself," she snapped,
as she picked her way down the narrow steps.
My boat, my rights
, Griffon thought.
"Don't flatter yourself, lady. Your attitude makes you a very
unattractive woman. No man worth his salt would want to look at
you, if he didn't have to," Griffon charged back bitterly, reliving
the words exchanged during his nightmarish marriage. He was deaf to
the bitter sob that choked her throat as his words struck her.
When she failed to return to the open deck,
Griffon went below, dreading the possibility that she had passed
out from her head wound. He found her sitting on the end of the
bunk, weeping pathetically into her hands. To his further
annoyance, she had helped herself to his favorite Jimmy Buffet
T-shirt. Her forehead was still a bloody mess, and the first aid
kit had not even been opened.
"Damn it," he grumbled, sitting across from
her and flipping the kit open. "Move your hands. And stop crying,
for God's sake. You are not a child."
He swore under his breath as he cleaned the
gash on her head, pushing aside the pale blonde hair. The gash had
not been made by the reef. "Did he hit you with something?" Griffon
asked, quietly.
"No. I fell against the side of the bait
box," Jade said quietly, trying to muffle her tears.
"Must have been one hell of a fall," Griffon
responded gruffly, as he focused on cleaning the wound. "Stay put;
this might sting."
Jade merely clenched her jaw as he dabbed
the antiseptic over the gash and then applied steristrips to keep
it closed. Griffon sat back to survey his work with
satisfaction.
"Good thing you have such a hard head. Keep
it clean," he ordered, putting the kit away and standing to
leave.
"Wait! What's your name?"
"Griffon Badger."
Jade followed him to the top deck. "Whoa
there! Badger? Like in Badger-Clark industries?"
"Yup." Griffon plopped his hat back on, cast
his line into the crystal-blue waters, and resumed his comfortable
lounging position.
"Your company designs and builds our cruise
ships!"
"Yup. Used to anyway. Until your father
attempted to load the dice in his favor."
"Are you saying my father cheats?!"
"Your father is a businessman and has one
thing in mind, and one thing only: making a buck. I won't stand for
anyone screwing my people. He lost his contract with me because of
his greed."
"My father is not greedy! He will have your
head, and your business, if he finds out that you are holding me
hostage here." Jade's voice trembled with anger.
"If you say so," Griffon shrugged. "You
obviously have his temper and have inherited his lack of diplomacy.
No use arguing with someone whose mind is closed to reality."
"You don't even know me."
"No, but I know your father. He is not one
of my favorite people, and I know I certainly am not his."
Jade simmered, changing the subject. "I
thought you were an American. You have an accent."
"I live in Seattle, but I was raised in New
Zealand," Griffon answered lazily, scrunching back comfortably in
his fishing chair.
Jade sneered when his conversation ceased,
and the man made no further attempt to acknowledge her. "I want to
go back to the mainland, Mr. Badger. Immediately. Look at me when
I'm talking to you, dammit!"
When Griffon did not acknowledge her orders,
Jade angrily slapped the hat off his head. Griffon caught her wrist
with his hand and slowly stood, forcing her down to the bench as
his wide-shouldered, 6'2" frame loomed over her. "Never touch the
hat," he growled.