Chapter Four
Peach storms into the apartment, her wild eyes flashing. Often so easy going, I’m always scared seeing her this way. I’m packing, but soon I’ll see my efforts completely dashed, when she overturns the luggage, and spills the contents of the cooler and picnic basket all over the floor.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand to know.
“You’re going to get spanked, you little brat!” she vows.
“What the f**k?” Her anger ignites my own. But seeing her like this, I’m also scared. Never in eight months has there been such fury written on her face, in her eyes, and all over her lush body.
She comes at me with a look I’ll never forget; with eyes darker than coal, they burn their way into me.
“A hairbrush or a belt, which would you prefer?” she blurts out at me.
“What have I done?
