Free Spanked by Kathleen R. Boston Page B

and then when I got there I would have to confront the snoring, drooling, Mr. Dirty Fingernails guy or I could just wait and see what happened.
    Would I get pregnant?
    Would I get an STD or something?
    I knew the anxiousness of waiting, of not knowing would just about kill me. But then if I went back to Dirty Fingernails' house, who the hell knew what was going to happen there?
    I leaned forward and buried my head in my lap. I was torn, confused and desperate. What the hell was I going to do now?
     
    After what seemed like forever, I raised my head up and reached for my cell phone. Maybe my girlfriend━the one who I’d gone to the birthday party with last night━could tell me what had happened.
    But when I finally got her on the phone, she said she couldn't recall me leaving.
    She told me she'd gone to the bathroom and that when she came back, I'd already left. She'd assumed━probably because that's what she did all the time━that I'd left with the guy I'd been dancing and talking to all night.
    So much for having friends with you in a strange place. Might as well go alone.
    I threw the phone, disgusted, onto the bed and walked over to my closet which had a full-length mirror in front of it.
    My opal-black eyes stared back at me, unflinching. My waist-length, raven black hair looked like it needed a good wash, definitely a brush-over.
    "Get yourself together, Katie!" I told myself. "You're twenty-nine years old and a strong independent woman! You can do this!"
    I had made my decision.
    With my teeth clenched, nostrils flaring and my shoulders squared back, I’d decided that I was going to go back to that damned house.
    I’d make Mr. Dirty Fingernails tell me if he’d taken my virginity and if he had I’d also make him tell me if he’d used some kind of protection.
    With the decision made, my worries eased off a little bit and twenty minutes later, I was soaking myself in a long, hot bubble bath.
    My head was still pounding hard from all the drinking I'd done the night before but at least I knew one thing: I was getting an answer today.
     
    A few hours after I'd run out of the dirty fingernails guy's house, I found myself standing at the front door of that very house.
    My insides were churning with fear but I was determined.
    I had to find out what had happened the night before.
    I'd also come prepared. Inside my big, brown purse, which was hanging on my shoulder, was a can of mace spray. I steeled myself and after a moment's hesitation knocked on the white, wooden door.
    No answer.
    There were two cars parked in the driveway so I knew somebody had to be there.
    I rapped harder on the door and after a few moments I heard footsteps approaching.
    My stomach tightened and my right hand creeped into my purse, tightening around the can of mace.
    The door opened and at first I thought I was at the wrong house.
    But I knew I wasn't because the same nasty smell that I'd smelled before when I'd been there that morning now wafted to my nostrils through the open door.
    Standing in front of me was the tallest, most gorgeous man I'd ever seen and I wasn't drunk this time so I knew what I was seeing was real.
    His eyes were deep blue and they seemed to pierce through to my very soul, as if he could see what I was feeling, read what I was thinking.
    He had a shock of thick, blond hair that made me just want to reach out and run my fingers through.
    Which shocked me because never in my life had I met a man that made me feel as if I’d want to touch their hair.
    His nose was strong and firm, but a little crooked at the bridge. It made him look tough, as if he’d been in quite a few fights in his life.
    "Can I help you?" The drop-dead handsome guy said in a deep baritone voice that reverberated all the way to my core.
    Embarrassed, I realized I was staring.
    I quickly gathered myself. "I'm sorry...I was expecting somebody else," I said and wondered why the hell I suddenly felt weak in my knees, butterflies in my stomach.
    He raised