Catching Her Cowboy Daddy Read online

  “Finn, please,” she begged him to stop knowing full well that her cries would fall upon deaf ears, and Finn wouldn’t stop until he was good and ready.

  “Not on your life sweetheart. You and I both know this has been a long time coming. I have no intention of stopping before you’ve learned this lesson and a few others.”

  Francesca bit back a whimper. That certainly didn’t sound good. Begging didn’t seem like it was going to yield any results, so she chose instead to take her spanking stoically, so as to not give him any more satisfaction. With that decision made, she had no choice but to listen to the lecture Finn was imparting while he continued to roast her backside.

  “You need to stop acting like a spoiled, entitled teenager. You are a grown ass woman, and it’s time you started acting like one. I’m going to be around a lot this weekend, and if I see you pulling any of your usual crap, I won’t hesitate for a second to pull you back over my knee for a nice little reminder of how you should be acting. Do you understand me, young lady?”

  The sarcastic answer was on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell him to make up his mind. Was she a grown ass woman or a young lady? He seemed to be waiting for a response, and she had no doubt that that wasn’t the sort of response that would get her on the road any faster, so she bit her tongue and opted for a contrite sounding. “Yes, Finn.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he corrected. “Any time you’re over my knee getting your bottom roasted, you will address me properly.”

  Okay, that one she couldn’t let go. Sir? Now he expected her to call him sir? He would be lucky if she didn’t call the cops the minute she got to her parents’ house and have him arrested.

  “Don’t push your luck, Finley,” she growled, glaring at him over her shoulder. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I am not calling you Sir. And furthermore, I don’t know where you’re getting this next time crap, because you can bet your balls there won’t ever be a next time.”

  The bastard had the audacity to laugh. Hard. And then he had the audacity to punctuate his laughter with a fresh set of spanks, this time to the part of her bottom that was covered by denim, thank goodness. “Francesca, sweetheart, I know you. There will be a next time. And darling, any battle you decide to wage while you’re over my knee, I assure you, you will not win. One little word from you, and we can be about done here, but if you want to keep being stubborn- that’s fine too. I don’t have anywhere else more important to be.”

  “Go to hell,” she growled, and braced herself for the onslaught she knew would follow. Finn resumed spanking with renewed vigor, and Francesca fought back tears. His hand had to be smarting by now. Lord knew her ass was on fire, but Finn just kept whaling away on her tender hot flesh. It was impossible at this point for her to remain quiet, or stoic, and she knew her tears were probably soaking Finn’s leg even through the thick denim of his Levi’s.

  It was probably only a minute or two before Finn spoke, giving her a chance to redeem herself. “So, what’s it going to be Francesca? Are you going to properly agree to start behaving more like a grown woman and less like a spoiled brat, or should I keep going?”

  He paused for just a moment, and Francesca caught her breath. “I’ll behave, Sir,” she choked on the Sir, mumbling it into his thigh. Finn wasn’t about to let her get away with it.

  His hand rested on her flaming hot crease, and she actually felt the breeze of air, when he drew his arm back and poised it for action. “What was that?”

  She wasn’t sure what was worse, the pain in her ass or the fact that she was actually going to have to call him Sir if she ever wanted him to stop spanking her like a naughty child. Drawing a shaky but fortifying breath, she raised her head off his lap. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “And?”

  And? Now there was a freaking and!? Francesca racked her brain to come up with some idea of what Finn was expecting of her. “I’ll try to remember to act like a grown ass woman from now on?”

  “Exactly!” His hand met bare flesh in one last torturous swat, and the next thing she knew, her hands and legs were free, and Finn was lifting her into his arms, running his hands through her hair, and wiping her tears.

  Every sensible thought in her brain was telling her to push away from him, to give him a piece of her mind, and to get to the house and never speak to him again. Her body betrayed her and she snuggled into his comforting embrace, melting at his whispered words of affirmation.

  “Francesca, darling, you did so good. You really are a good girl, honey. It’s only that no one ever told you that, or expected much from you. I should have told you that, and I should have done this a long time ago.”

  His words were utterly ridiculous, but even more ridiculous was the effect they were having on her heart, and other parts of her body. Being treated like a little girl was making her feel more like a woman than she ever had before. What in the actual fuck? She must be over-tired, dehydrated, delusional, something, because as it stood, she was this close to jumping Finley Tucker’s bones.

  Then, Finn did something she wasn’t expecting- he reached down and grabbed her bottom, his large hands resting atop the well- reddened creases. And holy, hell, it hurt like the dickens, but instead of making her want to push him to the ground and kick him for good measure, the pain flowered, and surged, sending sharp pangs of arousal to her pussy. She groaned and pressed hard against him. And then, God help her, she kissed him. She, Francesca Carolina Upton kissed Finley Silas Tucker square on the lips. And she would have kept on kissing him too- except that Finn froze up. His hands left her bottom, and she was soon planted firmly on the ground in front of him.

  “All right then. Get in the truck please, Francesca. Let’s get you home.”

  Chapter Two

  Shit. Okay, so whatever he had been expecting after giving Francesca a long hard, nearly bare-bottomed spanking, it hadn’t been that. Not that he was complaining. He wasn’t. It was just that Finn worked very hard to keep his life simple and free from complication and drama. And Francesca Upton was the epitome of complicated drama.

  Compared to him, she was practically a child, for one thing. And then there was his relationship with Joe to consider. Joe was the one person with the exception of his dearly departed Aunt Martha that had always been there for him. Finn knew Joe thought highly of him, but he was pretty sure it didn’t extend into thinking that Finn was or would ever be good enough for his only daughter.

  Francesca Carolina Upton was bad news. A big, beautiful womanly mess of it. It had taken everything in Finn not to kiss her back, and he felt absolutely terrible for rejecting her like that, especially since she hadn’t said a word to him since, and the hurt and anger weighed heavily on her features as she stared out the passenger side window. Finn had never felt like a bigger heel, but holy shit, how was he supposed to know that she would have a reaction like that? That underneath all the snottery, and bristle and trucker-like vocabulary was a submissive’s heart? He had not seen that coming.

  Four days. Two dinners at the ranch to make it through, and he would be sure to keep himself as scarce as possible until she left again. And he vowed, by everything that was holy, that no matter what she did or said, he would resist the urge to upend her over his knee and make good on his threats. She was not his problem.

  Finn pulled into the lot at the liquor store, and resisted the urge to tell her to stay put while he was gone. She would or she wouldn’t, but if she thought he was going to chase after her again, she had another thing coming.

  It didn’t take him more than three minutes to run in and get the scotch and run next door, choosing a pre-made arrangement as he was now behind schedule. When he returned to the truck, he was relieved and slightly concerned that Francesca hadn’t so much as twitched in his absence, nor did she acknowledge his presence when he returned. Damn.

  The thirty-minute drive back to the Upton’s ranch was silent and the cab of the truck was fraught with tension. For the first time, Francesca was comp
letely silent, and Finn didn’t know what to say or how to make things better. There was no way the two of them would make it through a dinner together tonight without making an unholy spectacle.

  When they pulled into the driveway, Francesca jumped out and ran for the house before Finn had ever shut off the engine. Finn was right on her heels. She didn’t have a key, so as much as she would probably have liked to, she couldn’t run in ahead of him.

  Yolanda, the housekeeper who had taken over after his aunt Martha had passed away, answered the door. “Miss Upton, Mr. Tucker, come in. I will get Mrs. Upton.”

  Finn nodded his thanks, but Francesca didn’t wait. As she took off down the hall, Finn got a good view of her back-side, including the large red handprint peeking out from beneath the hem of her shorts. Oops.

  Priscilla rounded the corner at about the same time, and frowned as she too watched her daughter run towards the back of the house. “Was that Francesca? I thought she wasn’t coming until tomorrow. Is she okay?”

  Finn grimaced. “Well, she got into town this afternoon, I guess, and it seems like Joe forgot to pick her up. I hate to say it ma’am, but I think it might be time to get him to Doc Miller and have him checked out.”

  Priscilla nodded coolly. “We’re so lucky you happened upon her Finn. I don’t know why she didn’t just call, but thank you for making sure she got home safely.”

  “Yeah, listen Priscilla, about that. She was hitchhiking down the highway when I found her, and she declined a ride when she saw that I was the one offering. I don’t know if you noticed the way she was dressed, but I wasn’t about to leave her out there like that. We exchanged words, and had a small tussle, and at the end of it, well, I spanked her.”

  Priscilla’s mouth formed a small “o” of surprise, but she quickly recovered. “I see. Well, I’m glad you got her home safely by whatever means necessary, and I’m sorry that she didn’t make it easy for you. Her father and I, we weren’t the best parents we could have been to her, and I don’t know how to turn it around now. I wish I did.”

  Finn just nodded. Having had a front row seat for her childhood, it wasn’t a point he could very well argue. He had a few ideas on how to turn her around, but, it wasn’t his problem or his place.

  “You’re welcome, ma’am- but suffice it to say, she’s pretty ticked off at me right now, and I’m thinking it would be best if we skipped dinner this evening.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t know where Joe and I would be without your help these days, Finn. You’re a big part of our lives, and Francesca is just going to have to deal with it. Besides, Yolanda made prime rib- I know it’s your favorite.”

  It wasn’t, but Finn wasn’t about to correct her. Having been raised by a housekeeper and a ranch hand- Finn’s tastes ran a bit simpler. Meatloaf was actually his favorite, but he wasn’t one to turn down a home cooked meal.

  Priscilla got a look on her face that Finn was all too familiar with. In her mind it was settled and arguing would do no good. “You go find Joe, he’s been excited to see you. Don’t worry about Francesca- I’ll talk to her.”

  Finn wasn’t so sure that was the best idea, but he knew well enough not to argue.

  *****

  Francesca paced around the large suite that had been her bedroom growing up. She was furious, but if she was being perfectly honest- she wasn’t sure if she was more upset with Finn for being an old fashioned chauvinist who treated her the same way he always had, like an annoying little sister, or with herself for reacting to him in a way she had thought she was well over. Every woman remembered their first real girlhood crush, especially if that person was such a large part of their formative life. Finley Tucker was hers.

  Lord help her, she had been head over heels about him. And why not? He was in nearly every memory she had, and he was always there. At thirteen, it had been just a silly puppy love crush. At sixteen, she had been convinced she was in love with him. When she was seventeen Finn had gotten engaged to a girl from San Antonio, and she thought her life was over. It had seemed nearly impossible at the time, but time went on. She graduated and moved away, thinking it much too painful to be on the same ranch with Finn and his soon-to-be bride. When she came back for Christmas that first year, Finn had been alone, and she had moved on.

  Or so she thought. Until he swept her into his arms, and every girlish fantasy she had ever had about him came to life, if only for a moment. It was weak and desperate and ridiculously infuriating. She was definitely madder at herself. What kind of crazy person puts the move on a man who just finished throwing her over his knee like a Neanderthal throwback, and spanking the daylights out of her? Her ass was still on fire!

  Stifling a scream, she threw herself across the bed dramatically. Stomach down, so as not to upset her aching bottom. Damn you Finley Tucker. She wasn’t lying there for more than a minute or two before her mother knocked on the door. Thinking fast, she grabbed the quilt from the foot of the bed and used it to cover herself so her mother wouldn’t see the evidence of the incident with Finn. She wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.

  “Come in.”

  Priscilla came in and sat on the bed, absently rubbing Francesca’s back for a minute before she spoke. “I’m sorry your father forgot to come get you. He got his days mixed up, and thought it was only Monday.”

  Francesca snorted in response.

  “He’s been having some confusion and memory loss lately. I assumed it was just a natural part of getting older, but Finn thinks we need to get him into Doc Miller soon, and I agree. All that’s left now is to convince your father, and you know how stubborn he can be. Between the three of us, though, we’ll wear him down.”

  This was not what Francesca had been expecting to hear and she rolled over to see her mother, wincing as her tender skin made contact with the worn old bedspread.

  “What? Really? Are you serious? Do you think it could be like, dementia or something?”

  Priscilla frowned. “I think it’s a very real possibility. Francesca, I know you were planning to leave after the holiday weekend, but I was hoping you would think about sticking around a few extra days, just until your father sees the doctor, and we know what we are dealing with.” Her mother wiped a tear, and Francesca’s heart dropped. Priscilla Upton was not a crier.

  She agreed instantly, without even thinking about the ramifications of staying longer. Just a few minutes ago, she had been ready to pack it up and take the next flight out of here, and now she was agreeing to stay, almost indefinitely. Even though she hated being home, she hated seeing her mother upset more.

  Priscilla’s tears were still flowing, gently and demurely of course, as was her way, but she pursed her lips together and changed the subject quickly, as was also her way. “We had already invited the Mayor for dinner tonight, and it’s much too late to cancel. I’m hoping that you can see fit to get cleaned up and dressed for dinner and join us. We will eat at six o'clock, of course.”

  Francesca groaned, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow once more. Dinner with her parents and old Mayor Fisher was seriously the last thing she wanted to do right now. She wasn’t even sure she could manage to sit at the table without making a complete spectacle of herself. And being forced to sit through hours of her father and the mayor talking about cattle prices, their golf game, and their outdated old-school political views would be equally excruciating. But she knew her mother well enough to know that it wasn’t the innocent request it seemed to be. As if on cue, her mother stood up, patted her on the shoulder, and said. “I’ll see you downstairs in thirty minutes. Don’t forget to dress for dinner.” Then she was gone, leaving Francesca alone with her aching heart and aching ass.

  *****

  Finn and Joe were enjoying a cigar and a glass of scotch in Joes’ study when Priscilla came downstairs after her talk with Francesca.

  She sidled up to them and laid her hand on her husband's shoulder. “Francesca will be joining us for dinner, and she will be staying around fo
r a bit longer than originally planned.” She shot a wink in Finn’s direction as she said it, and he guessed it had to do with Joe’s health and getting him to the doctor after the holiday.

  He was surprised and pleased to hear that she would join them, though. If there was one thing he knew about Francesca Carolina Upton it was that she was a stubborn as all get out, especially when she was upset. And he truly hadn’t meant to upset her- okay well, maybe that was to be expected, he had whooped her pretty good after all, but she hadn’t seemed too upset until after he more or less rejected her advances.

  Francesca could also be pretty darn vengeful as well, if he remembered correctly, and he hoped that wouldn’t be the case. If she was staying longer, there would be no avoiding each other, so she was just going to have to get over it and move on.

  Yolanda announced dinner, and they moved into the formal dining room. Joe sat at the head of the oversized table, and Priscilla to his right. Finn took a seat at Joe’s left, but moved over one seat from where he usually sat, leaving a space open for Francesca.

  He heard her before he saw her, as she burst into the room. “Daddy, Finley Tucker struck me! I want you to call Sheriff Daniels immediately and have him arrested.”

  The shock on Joe’s face were priceless, and if his own hide wasn’t the one in imminent danger, he would have laughed.

  Joe sat there sputtering, at an obvious loss for words, frantically looking between Finn and his only daughter. Francesca, who was still standing in the doorway trying her best to play the part of the distressed damsel, hadn’t noticed him yet.

  “Oh, is that what happened? I thought I saw a spoiled little brat hitchhiking down the road, barely dressed and offered her a ride. And instead of graciously accepting, she took chase, and when she was caught, she struck me. And instead of leaving her out there to be ogled by lechers or worse, I took her over my knee as you do for spoiled children, and convinced her to see reason.” Finn smiled. “But hey, by all means, tell the story your way. I doubt you’ll have an easy time convincing the sheriff to arrest the newly elected mayor though, but you can certainly try.”