This is my response to the Writing Prompt Wednesday post on Spanking Romance Reviews. The prompt was: off like a prom dress.  It features the characters Cade and Stacy from my yet-to-be-published ebook Playing with Fire.  I also intend to publish the story in its entirety in my upcoming anthology One of those Nights.



Without warning, there was a distinct click and a lamp flared to life, revealing Cade sitting in the corner of the sofa, arms crossed and looking distinctly grim. Stacy startled, flinching hard and swearing under her breath. Cade raised an eyebrow. “Language, Anastasia.”

Stacy winced again. Was she trying to get killed? Her propensity for profanity was one of the first things Cade had gotten on her case about. He’d stopped short of actually banning it and punishing her for it, but that didn’t mean he particularly liked it. It was a pet peeve of his and she knew it. Christ, did her mouth always have to work independently of her brain?

“And just where have you been, young lady?” he asked, in that quiet, stern, rumbling tone that never failed to turn her insides to water. Not that she would ever admit that.

“You know damn well where I was. I was with Glory,” she countered.

“Were you?” he replied in that carefully controlled, reasonable tone that never failed to drive her mad. “I had hoped that were the case. I knew that was where you were supposed to be, but considering I haven’t heard a word out of you for hours, and you were supposed to be home at midnight, I was seriously considering whether I needed to begin calling hospitals and making sure you hadn’t been in an accident.”

Caught between embarrassment and fury, Stacy rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Cade. If there had been an accident, any officer or EMT in three counties would have contacted you immediately. You know every damn body, and they know you. Don’t bother to pretend otherwise.”

“And that’s supposed to excuse you coming home over two hours late and leaving me to worry,” Cade demanded.

“Jesus, Cade,” Stacy flared. “I’m fine. We drank a little too much and lost track of time. That’s all. And before you ask, no, I didn’t drive, and neither did Glory. Raymond was our DD. He drove us both home. We’re not stupid.”

“I never said you were,” Cade retorted. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t bother expecting you to do better, but you’re not. You’re plenty bright enough to understand what the conditions for you two going out were, and why I set them. This is just plain thoughtless and irresponsible behavior. You know that, and you know perfectly well how that is dealt with around here.”

Stacy was rapidly realizing she had reached the point of no return. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Come on, Cade,” she said. She heard the whine in her own voice but frankly, at this point, she was desperate enough not to care.

Cade held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Anastasia. Go change.”

Stacy shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, twisting her hands together. “It wasn’t…”

Cade snapped his fingers, cutting her off. “Move. Now.”

She hesitated a moment longer.  “But…”


Stacy fled on the word.  She’d learned the hard way not to let him get to three.  In the relative safety of their bedroom, she shimmied out of her tight sheath dress, tossing it off like a prom dress, crumpled and forgotten in the heat of passion. Her bra landed on top of it in a smooth arc like a perfect three-point basket.  Grabbing one of Cade’s old USMC tee shirts, she pulled it over her head while she moved into their small ensuite  bathroom to wash her face.  She didn’t take the time to do more than scrub off her makeup.  Cade was already going to roast her ass.  There was no need to piss him off further.