…Adrenaline rushed through Scott’s veins, making his throat go dry. He was going to be spanked by Joe. He smiled at that knowledge, unsure how the hell he’d managed to get so lucky.

 

Incapable of sitting still for another moment, Scott carefully stepped down from the high bar stool he’d perched on for what felt like years. His trainers squeaked against the floorboards. Joe looked up from whatever he was doing on the other side of the bar.

 

Scott froze. “Should I…?” He waved a hand vaguely toward the empty room.

 

“Should you what?” Joe asked.

 

Scott fiddled with the end of his belt as he tried to think of a sensible way to finish the sentence. Should he set up whatever Joe needed in order to spank him? Should he bare his backside in readiness?

 

“Your arse will get very cold on the ride home if you drop your jeans now,” Joe warned, when Scott failed to utter a single word.

 

“Home?” Scott repeated blankly.

 

“What?” Joe asked, turning to face Scott properly. “Did you think I was going to spank you right here in the middle of the bar? And then what, send you off home before you could even sit comfortably behind the wheel of your car?”

 

“Um…Yes?” Scott nipped at his bottom lip. “Or in a taxi anyway—my car’s still in the garage and…”

 

His words died as Joe shook his head in apparent disbelief.

 

“Well, like you said. I know what I’m doing, you don’t.” Joe pushed himself away from the shelf behind the bar. “You’re coming home with me tonight…”