Sebastian Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  EBook Offer

  Sebastian

  Along Came Jones, Book One

  Megan McCoy

  Blushing Books

  ©2017 by Blushing Books® and Megan McCoy

  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®,

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  Megan McCoy

  Sebastian

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-527-7

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-570-3

  Cover Art 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.

  Contents

  What’s Inside

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Other Titles

  Megan McCoy

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  What’s Inside

  “What does it mean, actions have consequences?” she asked him tentatively.

  “It's not a hard concept,” he said, half smiling.

  “What kind of consequences?” she asked.

  Ah, this was a very good sign. “Depends. Employees get fired. Speeders gets tickets. Naughty women get spanked.” There it was, that intake of quickly sucked in breath that meant she was interested. He’d known. He didn’t know how he knew, but he’d known.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “You heard me,” he said, and couldn’t resist stroking her hair again. Very touchable hair.

  “Spanked?” This was barely squeaked out, and he felt very pleased. Yeah, she’d be over his knee before the night was over.

  “You’ve heard the word before,” he said. “Over the knee, usually bare bottomed, and the brain is reminded via the bottom’s nerve sensors of the transgression.”

  “Umm,” she was breathing harder now, or maybe couldn’t catch her breath. It was hard to tell. Righteous indignation time, where she would protest that grown women didn’t need to be spanked and what kind of man was he?

  But she surprised him. “I looked in your drawers,” she said. “And your closet.”

  Okay, he could think on his feet. “Are you saying you deserve a spanking?” he asked.

  She shook her head slowly, then met his eyes. “But actions have consequences,” she said, her body trembling slightly.

  “Yes, they do,” he agreed. “Why did you snoop when I gave you my trust?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, eyes dropping. “I just sort of wanted to?” A question.

  “And now you feel badly about it?” He couldn’t tell if she really felt badly about it, or if she just wanted to experience a spanking. He knew lots of women enjoyed a light spanking for foreplay and many of them wondered about a discipline spanking, but most didn’t ask for one. This one was almost flinging herself over his knees, and his hand ached to begin, but he knew he had to do the dance first.

  “I do, but I don’t want a…” she choked.

  Ah, the token protest.

  “No one really wants one, but sometimes they’re deserved, don’t you think?” he said softly.

  “I wasn’t really bad,” she wiggled beside him.

  “You really weren’t good though, were you?” He tipped her chin up so her eyes met his again.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I deserve… consequences.” He saw fear, anticipation, and something else he couldn’t quite figure out yet, in her eyes. Normal.

  “All right,” he said as if he’d just decided. “I’m going to give you a spanking. Now, spankings hurt, but once it’s over, all will be forgiven.”

  “Hurt a lot?” she said doubtfully, looking up at him with those enormous hazel brown eyes.

  “Bearable,” he said decisively, wanting to give her the experience but not scare her off. For some reason, he wanted this little miss over his knee often.

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  Chapter 1

  “Ready, Ryan?” Maggie asked, pulling her ball cap a little lower over the sun in her eyes.

  “Ready!” Her eight-year-old nephew waved his bat at her, waiting for the pitch. She pitched it, low and easy, and he swung and missed again.

  “No worries, buddy, here comes the next one.” She had a small bucket of balls at her feet. Her bucket saved chasing every single one all over the yard every time he hit one, presuming he eventually would, and her fat, little, red dachshund, Simon, wagging his tail under the tree, refused to learn fetch.

  “I’m ready!” He waved the bat again. “I’ll do it this time!” His confidence despite missing ten in a row was unflagging and contagious.

  “Okay! Here it comes!” She threw again, and this time he connected. Foul ball, but he cheered as if he’d hit a homerun.

  “I did it!” he yelled. “Look, Aunt Maggie, I did it! I hit the ball!” He shoved his glasses back up his nose and jumped around like a wild child.

  Maggie jumped up and down, too, and ran the few feet between them, giving him a high five. “You did it! I knew you could!” Poor little kid had his mom’s coordination, much to his dad’s chagrin. Maggie and her brother, Ben, were both athletes, still playing on sports teams, and he even did triathlons. She played baseball in the summer and volleyball in the winter. Cambry, Ben’s wife, no
t so much. She said a bike ride around the neighborhood with her kid was as much as she wanted to do. Ben had decided it was time for Ryan to work on his abilities, and Maggie offered to help, knowing she was much more patient than her brother. After all, she taught kids for a living. He was a surgeon who barked orders for a living.

  “Let’s do it again,” he pushed a lock of too long hair out of his eyes.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready. This time aim for the fence, okay?” She pointed to a big round target she’d painted on the back of her fence.

  “I’m going to hit it over the fence,” he boasted and swung the bat in preparation.

  “Let’s do it!” She threw the ball, and to her utter surprise he connected again. The ball didn’t go straight, but instead arced up and to the left. They both watched wide eyed while it went over the fence and then crashed through her neighbor’s window. Her new neighbor whom she hadn’t even met yet. Naturally. Couldn’t have been sweet Mrs. Miller on the other side. Oh no. Had to be the new guy she’d only gotten a glimpse of.

  “Oh, no,” her sweet little nephew moaned. “Dad’s going to be so mad!”

  “Dad is not going to be mad,” she told him. “We are going to handle this.” She took his hand and smiled at him. “But man, that was the best hit ever, wasn’t it?”

  “It went way over the fence,” Ryan said, awed. “I’ve never hit one that far, ever.”

  “But you will do it again,” she said, trying not to let him know her heart was pounding. What a way to meet a new neighbor. “And, right now, we have to go tell him we are sorry for breaking his window.”

  Ryan looked at her, with almost fear in his eyes. “I don’t want to,” he said.

  “I know, right?” She knelt down to his level, “But that is what you do when you make a mistake. You say you are sorry and ask how you can help make it right.”

  “My first home run and I have to say I’m sorry,” he looked at her sadly.

  “When we tell your dad about it, we will leave that part out,” she said, ruffling his hair. “Come on, let's get this done.”

  They held hands as they walked through the gate and over to the neighbor’s house, and Maggie knocked on the door. She’d only seen this guy a few times in passing, and wished now that she’d come over and brought him a pie or something as a welcome to the neighborhood gesture. This wasn’t a fun way to meet the new neighbor.

  She knocked again. No answer, and it felt like no movement from inside. Ryan looked up at her through his glasses, “Now what?”

  “We go write a note and leave it on his door,” she said decisively. See, she knew all about how to do things, apparently. “Come on.”

  They walked back to her house, with Ryan obviously upset, so she tried to cheer him up. “Don’t worry. You know what adults call this kind of thing?”

  “What?” he asked looking so pathetic her heart lurched.

  “We call it a funny story later,” she said. “You are going to have a lot of things that happen in life that will be a funny story later.”

  “Oh.” He didn’t seem impressed.

  Before they got up the steps to her house, he brightened considerably. “Mom!” Maggie looked as Cambry’s car pulled into the driveway. Her sister-in-law jumped out of the car in her nurse's scrubs, “Hey, Ryan, I got off early and thought we could have some mommy and kid time!”

  “Yes!” he said. “Bye, Aunt Maggie, see you soon!” He waved, apparently all thoughts of the window forgotten, and she decided to just let it go.

  “Want your back pack?” she called, but he didn’t seem to notice. His folks both worked long hours, and he deserved what time he could get with them. She could get him his backpack later.

  Besides, she could write a note for the neighbor all by herself.

  “Thanks for watching him today, Maggie.” Cambry waved at her as they both got in the car.

  “Anytime!” She waved back, could see Ryan chattering happily to his mom, and sighed. She was glad he got some mom time. She waved again as they pulled out into the street and after watching them turn the corner, headed back to the house to get some paper and tape.

  As she was opening her front door, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a car pull in next door. Oh, good, he was home. She tried to fake enthusiasm. Just go do it, she told herself. No time like now. Turning around, she went back down the porch stairs and headed next door as he got out of his car. Of course, he’d be in a suit and tie, while she was dressed in cut off denim shorts, a too short T-shirt and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and out her ball cap, but on the upside, she consoled herself, he probably wasn’t wearing any makeup either. He was tall, very tall, and lean. He moved casually as she forced herself to wave at him. “Hi!” she called out and walked toward him, taking a deep breath.

  “I’m your next-door neighbor, Maggie Carpenter.” She took his outstretched hand and shook it.

  “Sebastian Jones,” he said. His voice deeper than she would have thought. He had dark brown hair, deep brown eyes and a very firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Maggie,” he said. “This seems like a great neighborhood.”

  “Well, you won’t think that for long.” She looked way up at him. Dang, she was five four, how tall was he? At least a foot taller than she was, she guesstimated.

  “I won’t?” he asked. “And it's been such a good day so far.” That didn’t seem sincere, she thought as he added. “What’s going on?”

  “My nephew and I were playing ball in the back yard.” She took a deep breath and smiled crookedly at him. “Good news, he hit his first home run. Bad news, the ball is inside your house.”

  “My window?” he guessed, with only a slight frown. Well, at least he wasn’t a screamer.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll obviously pay to have it replaced,” she said trying to be as pitiful as possible.

  He looked her up and down, then after a long pause said, “I guess you need your ball back.”

  “If it isn’t too much trouble,” she said. “Then I can help you clean it up, put cardboard or plastic up on it tonight and I’ll get the glass guy out in the morning to fix it.”

  “I have lots of boxes from moving,” he said. “We can use those, come on in.”

  Well, that was terse. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Probably not what you wanted to do after a long day at work and in a new house with boxes to unpack.”

  “It's okay,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes behind his back. Fine. If he wanted to be a jerk, she’d kill him with kindness. “I teach junior high math,” she said. “What do you do?”

  He didn’t even turn around after unlocking the front door. “You look like a teenager.”

  “Thanks,” she didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm that time. Sure in a few years she might be happy to be told she looked eighteen, but not yet. It was the ball cap, she consoled herself. “But I’m really a college graduate with a teaching job.”

  “Hmph,” he said.

  Wow. His conversational skills were just amazing, weren’t they? She followed him into his house. Very sparse, but he’d only been in a week, and there were still boxes around.

  “I assume it's back here,” he said, walking down a short hall and opened a door. “Yeah.”

  It was an empty room with hardwood floors. That was good, at least she wouldn’t have to pick up glass from the carpet. “Do you have a trash can?” She asked bending over to pick up a few of the larger pieces. Standing up, she noticed him staring at her butt, and blushed. She had only thought of comfort when she put the shorts on, not expecting anyone but Ryan to see her. His face was impassive as he left the room, to come back shortly with a box and some cardboard and packing tape. She put her glass pieces in the box debating to play the quiet game with him or try to make civil conversation. Her glass pieces clinked as they hit the bottom of the box.

  “I’m really sorry,” she offered.

  “His first home run, huh?” he said, picking up a few smaller piece
s.

  “Yeah, his first real hit, actually. He’s a bit uncoordinated,” she explained as she smiled. “Smart as a whip like his folks, but his dad wants him more well-rounded and decided to put him on a baseball team this summer. He’s warming that bench really well.”

  “So, you’re coaching him?” His brown eyes raked her over again and she wished she were wearing more clothes.

  “Yeah, I play on a team,” she said. “First base.”

  He nodded. “I’m going to get a broom.” he said and left the room.

  Cryptic, wasn’t he? Oh well, he was just her neighbor, it wasn’t like she had to do anything but wave at him over the fence and try to not break his windows anymore. Next time, she and Ryan would go to the park to hit balls. Who knew the kid had such a swing? Who knew her neighbor was such a hunk? Usually, she liked some meat on her guys, but this one moved with such quiet confidence, she felt some sort of weird attraction to him, Which, she told herself firmly, she was planning to ignore.

  She was just happy he didn’t scream at her for breaking the window, she thought as she kept searching for anymore pieces of glass she might have missed, then picking up a piece of cardboard to tape it to the window.

  He came up behind and put his arms around her to grab the cardboard and move it higher on the window. “Must be nice to be tall,” she quipped, feeling a little startled.

  “Can you get the tape?” he asked, and she ducked under his arms to get it from the floor. That was strange. Ripping off a long piece of tape, she taped while he held. Soon, they had it done, in silence. Did the man never talk?

  “I’ll call the window guy in the morning,” she said. “I know a good one here in town. What time do you go to work?” He never did tell her where he worked, she thought, like it was a government secret or something.