Discipline Down Under Page 4

  “Eww.”

  “Birds like to eat them, Peggy. They’re a necessary evil.”

  She stepped back a pace, bumping her pack against a gum tree. “Keep it away from me. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Don’t go rooting around in the mulch, okay? And watch where ya sit.”

  Giving him a smart salute, she grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  He chuckled. She was incredibly cute.

  A sound got Tripp’s attention and he looked up, smiling at what he saw. “Quiet now, luv. Get yer camera ready.”

  Her eyes turned to where he was looking. “What?” she whispered.

  “Little bird, about halfway up this tree. Yellow belly, black face with white stripes.”

  “I see it.” Her whisper was more excited.

  “Northern crested shrike-tit.”

  “Oh, gosh!”

  “Rare. Hear it whistle?”

  Peggy nodded, pulling the camera into position slowly and carefully. Tripp watched as she took several pictures. She looked so disappointed when it flew away.

  “Got what ya wanted?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you so much. Look!”

  Holding out the camera with the digital display facing him, Tripp could see what she’d captured. The shots were excellent. Professional quality.

  “Well done, luv.”

  “I’m going to be a nature photographer. Nothing can stop me.”

  “If that’s yer dream, Peggy-girl, ya keep on working at it.”

  Her smile was bright and proud.

  They trudged through the bush a little more and came to a grassy field. Tripp pointed out several more birds for her, including an Australian bustard in full plumage, with its throat expanded to entice a female. It seemed like Peggy was snapping pictures every five minutes, they saw so many animals. Tripp was very pleased to give her so much to photograph. It was a good trudge, but they made it to the next campsite by around three o’clock. This one was near a sandstone formation, not unlike their last site. Fortunately, thanks to the morning drizzle, the flies had eased off somewhat.

  They dropped their packs and sat on the logs provided around the fire pit, drinking water. Tripp noticed that Peggy was scratching at a patch on her ankle.

  “Did something bite ya?”

  “Maybe. It itches. I’m sure it’ll go away. I’m just hungry.”

  “Ya itch when yer hungry, Peggy?”

  “Uh… no, not really. I don’t want to make a big deal, that’s all.”

  He approached her and squatted near her leg. “Let me see.”

  She pulled her leg back quickly. “It’s okay. I’m sure it’ll go away.”

  Peggy’s face said it was not going away, no matter what her mouth said.

  “Let me see,” he insisted.

  Swatting his hand away, she stood and stepped away. “No.”

  “What are ya hiding?”

  Peggy took a stance about a yard away, arms folded across her chest. “Nothing.”

  “Then why are ya being a berk?” He pointed to the log. “Sit down and show me yer bloody leg!”

  “I don’t even know what a berk is, so I can’t possibly be one.” She shrieked as Tripp manhandled her to a sitting position and took her ankle in his hands.

  As he examined the reddened, scratched flesh, he answered her. “A berk is a fool, sheila.” There was a swollen nodule, and within it was a tick. “Crikey,” he muttered.

  “What? What is it? Did a snake bite me? Am I going to die?” The panic in her voice triggered a protective response from him.

  “No, no, luv. Just a tick. They can be dangerous if they’re infected with disease, but usually they’re just annoying.”

  “Oh.” She thought about it. “Eww. Can you get it off?”

  “Out, is more like it.”

  “Eww!”

  “Calm down. I’ll get it out.”

  It took about ten minutes, some tweezers and antiseptic, but soon the tick had been removed and her little wound protected by a plastic bandage.

  “Ya tell me if ya feel feverish or dizzy, got it?”

  “Yes. Would that mean I was infected with beriberi or something?”

  That made him laugh. “Infected with something. But don’t worry about it. Worrying won’t solve anything.” Tripp finished putting his medical supplies away. “Still, I think we should stick close to camp tomorrow, until we’re sure yer okay.”

  “Oh, geez.”

  “Don’t pout, luv. I think you’ve done enough damage to yer behind already.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Tripp sat on a log and explained patiently. “Why chuck a wobbly about letting me see yer leg?”

  “Because I thought I could take care of myself.”

  He nodded. “And what did ya find out? Would ya have been prepared to remove that tick yerself?”

  Peggy’s lower lip began to stick out. “No. But you took care of it, so what’s the big deal?”

  “Remember, ya agreed to mind while we were bushwalking.”

  Thumping down on the other log, she toed the gravelly earth with the toe of her hiking boot. “Yeah. I know.”

  “Don’t play sullen teenager with me, Peggy. I’ll roast yer bum again.”

  Those big brown eyes got wide. “You will?”

  He nodded. “If I have to.”

  Peggy appeared to consider this for a moment. “Sorry.”

  Not much of an apology, but it would have to do. “I’m stepping away for a bit to water a tree. Stay here in the camp. Do not head for the creek. There are freshies there and they don’t like visitors.”

  “Fresh water crocodiles?”

  “Yeah. Stay put.”

  Her eyes slid to the creek about a hundred yards away, and she gave him a hand gesture that said, “whatever.”

  Sighing, Tripp went off to do what he needed to do.

  He was there, maybe a dozen yards from the camp, when he heard a shriek. Panic immediately raced through his blood. Peggy!

  She was not in the camp. She was not in the nearby trees. She was not wobbling precariously on one of the rocks. But again, she let out a piercing scream. It seemed to come from the creek; exactly the area he’d warned her away from.

  Fearing the worst, Tripp buttoned his jeans and pulled out his knife as he ran. No sound had ever made his adrenalin surge so high, his brain go into fight mode. If she was injured…

  When he found her, she was halfway up a small tree.

  “Peggy! What the bloody hell is going on?”

  She pointed to the creek, and Tripp could see a freshie ducking back into the water. He kept his knife out until the crocodile was out of sight down around a corner. Tripp was as relieved as he was angry. “Come down.”

  Peggy didn’t move. “Not if you’re mad at me.”

  “Brilliant. You’ll just stay up in a tree.”

  “I… uh… are you mad?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Come down.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Spank some sense into ya.”

  Knuckles white as she clung to the tree, Peggy appeared to think about it. As if she actually had a choice. She could hardly stay up there in a tree in perpetuity. Tripp waited patiently. Finally, she sighed and slid down the trunk.

  “Would it help to say I’m sorry?”

  “No. I want ya away from this creek. Go back to camp.”

  Blond hair spilled over her cheeks as Peggy hung her head. “Okay.”

  Tripp followed her back, and stood by the fire pit. He fully intended to scorch her fanny, but first, he was quite curious to know what she could possibly have been thinking going counter to his orders like that. “Why, Peggy?”

  “I wanted to get a picture.”

  “This is one time when getting a picture was a bad idea. Ya should never, ever go to a water source without me. It’s dangerous. Even I might not be able to protect ya. The freshies aren’t so bad, but if we come into contact with salties…
They’re big. Some sixteen feet long, and they’re not afraid of humans. This is an absolute hard limit, Peggy. Ya will not go to a water source alone, or you’ll be heading back to Daddy. Got it?”

  “Got it. It was stupid. I was carried away by the idea, that’s all.”

  She looked contrite, so Tripp didn’t lecture her further. He’d be unhappy if she chose to ditch him and shorten her trip. He found her refreshing and charming, just plain cute. However, he didn’t want to be there if she got her leg bitten off by a croc. It would be too tragic to bear. “Pull down yer khakis and yer panties and put yer hands down on that log.”

  “You’re going to spank me?”

  “Didn’t I say I would?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Take the position, Peggy-girl. I don’t want to add spanks because ya were stubborn.”

  That got her attention, but still she hesitated. Her cheeks got pink and her hands fumbled with the button of her pants.

  “Peggy, yer digging yerself a hole here.”

  She gave him a glare, but turned her back and started taking down her clothes. Tripp’s eyes locked on to her bum. Her perfect, heart-shaped rump. It would be so much better to be doing something with that pretty behind other than punishing her. “What ya do to me, luv,” he muttered, but it appeared that she hadn’t heard. Just as well. No point in giving her ammo to manipulate him with. Louder, he said, “To the log now.”

  Peggy turned her head and peered at him over her shoulder. Her face was red. “Do I have to?”

  Her little-girl voice almost broke his heart. “Ya do.”

  Without a further word, she took the single step toward the log and bent over to put her hands on it. He didn’t have to explain the position to her. She was bright enough to understand what was going to happen.

  Unfortunately, keeping her balance meant she had to spread her legs apart slightly—an unconscious gesture, he was sure—but it gave him an excellent peek at her privates. Soft, pale pink lips spoke to him: Tripp… Tripp… I’m here for you. Come get me, Tripp. In his imagination, he heard it clear as day, and it made him hot and bothered. His old fella got hard, and his muscles got tight. He took a quiet deep breath and approached Peggy from the side.

  “Remember what this is for,” he told her. His voice was thick, and he cleared his throat.

  “Yes, Tripp.”

  He didn’t think about it further—couldn’t dwell on the position she was in, the way she looked, the scent of her perfumed hair. Drawing back his hand, he aimed and gave her a resounding smack on the left cheek.

  “Ow!”

  Tripp didn’t reply. He spanked several more times, and watched as her bottom blossomed with pink hand prints that faded soon after, only to be replaced by more prints. As he spanked, the pink started to linger, the patches on her bum growing and getting brighter. He could feel the heat as his hand came into contact with her sweet flesh. Every third smack or so, she called out an “Ouch!” or begged him to stop. He wanted to stop, wanted to quit and take her in his arms. But the point had to be made. She could not, must not ever, approach water unless he gave her the okay. It was absolutely forbidden.

  Resolved to continue making his point, Tripp shifted the focus of his punishing hand from her bottom down onto her thighs. Her breath caught, and she whimpered. The whimpers turned to sobs. His hand was beginning to sting. When she began to boo-hoo in earnest, he stopped to stroke her, to gentle her. Tripp didn’t want to traumatize the girl.

  “All over, sweetheart,” he told her.

  Peggy’s breath was coming in shudders, but she seemed to be calming as he gently rubbed her red behind and thighs. Inadvertently, his hand brushed her pussy lips and nothing could have surprised him more. She was wet. The spanking had turned her on. So much for making a point.

  She gasped as he grazed her lips again on purpose. There was a tiny wiggle through her hips, encouraging him to do more.

  “Peggy…”

  Her face, already red from crying, got a shade more crimson and she stood abruptly, wiping tears away with the backs of her hands.

  He opened his arms to her. “Come here, luv.”

  She shook her head. “No. You hurt me.”

  Now it was his turn to feel pain. He didn’t want her rejection. There was only half a step between them, and he crossed the distance and put his arms around her. Instead of pushing him away, as he feared, she snuggled up against him, her whole body pressing against his. She was warm, hot even, and her tears wet his t-shirt. A new sob tore through her and he held her tightly, stroking her blond waves and loving the feel of her there. The perfume of her shampoo beguiled him. He felt like he wasn’t in his own skin anymore, but was an observer. She tilted her head back to look him in the eyes, and tears clung to her black eyelashes.

  “I’m sorry, Tripp.”

  “Shh. I know yer sorry, Peggy.”

  “I won’t do it again.” There was a pause and then she kissed his chin. It was a light kiss, a tasting kiss.

  The situation was impossible to resist, and he was immediately pulled from ‘observer mode’ back into the moment. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers. She returned his kiss and gave a slight moan. Within moments, their closed lips opened and their tongues began to explore.

  Tripp tried to emotionally pull himself away from her, failing dismally. He had to remember that she was a client! She was not an Aussie girl he could date. Shortly, Peggy would go back to Perth to be with her father, and then go back to America to finish her education or pursue other interests. Oz would be a fond memory, perhaps, but aside from a photo album, she was unlikely to take anything back with her.

  He pulled away, disengaging slowly, reticently. The situation was upsetting and he resented it.

  “Tripp?” she queried, resting her head against his chest again. Her tears had stopped and her breathing was quickly moving from excited to calm.

  “We can’t, Peggy. I work for ya. Yer under my protection. I can’t take advantage of that.”

  “But I don’t care about any of that.”

  He untangled himself from her and took a step back. “Ya should care. Do ya want some temporary hook-up with a guide? Do ya also go for cabana boys?” It was a vicious comment, and he regretted it as soon as it was out. Her hurt look made him wince. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his face with one hand.

  “I’m sorry, too.” Her lips, pouty from kisses, turned down at the corners.

  “Look. We’ll go on as before. This didn’t happen. Okay?”

  “But it did happen, Tripp.”

  “Let’s forget about it. Let it go, Peggy. Let it go.”

  Words caught in her throat as she agreed. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Let’s get some tucker going. Pull up yer pants and help me with the fire.”

  Drawing a deep breath, she moved to put her clothes back to rights. She said nothing, and Tripp thought that might be the most painful thing of all.

  Chapter Four

  Tripp smelled so good; Peg didn’t want to get out of bed. She hadn’t dared to snuggle with him through the night, waking over and over again to find herself pressed to him. Every time, she’d pulled back away, trying to find a comfortable place to rest. But in the early morning, just as the sun was rising, she once again found herself up against him. Feeling him warm beneath her cheek and hand, his breathing soft and even, his scent tickling her nose, she had no desire to move away yet again. So, this time she stayed, and this time, in his sleep, he took her in his arms and snuggled up behind her, spooning, despite the sleeping bags between them.

  Peg had never met anyone like Tripp. She had had a boyfriend once, but he moved away from Colorado to go to school elsewhere. That had ended the relationship, and although she’d dated since then, no one had captured her attention like Tripp did.

  But it was not to be. Tripp had rejected her, though she suspected he’d done it with reservations. He hadn’t looked relieved or pleased about their separation after the kiss. Instead, he
looked slightly pained. What did that mean? Was there hope, or was she fooling herself? There was time to find out, so long as he didn’t quit working for her.

  That was also risky. She’d already been spanked for recklessly risking getting shot, and also for nearly becoming a crocodile’s snack. But, really, those spankings weren’t so bad. Peg felt closer to him throughout and especially after. He held her gently, cooed at her to calm her. She found it so pleasant that even the pain on her bottom was something she could cherish. And, if she was truthful with herself, she had to admit that in some ways the spankings turned her on. It was totally unexpected, but it was a fact. The idea of Tripp seeing her en dishabille, exposing her secrets, was sexy. And she knew he found it so as well. She’d felt the evidence of his interest pressed up against her during their kiss. Instead of finding it a chore, he was enjoying those moments of discipline.

  Tripp nuzzled up against the back of her ear, but she knew exactly when he awoke because he withdrew abruptly and rolled away from her, sitting up.

  “Good morning, Peggy,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  “Good morning, Tripp. Sorry if I crowded you.”

  He squirmed out of his bag, his answer lost in the shuffle.

  They both got up, washed in the water they’d brought with them, and got dressed, their backs to each other. Peg snuck a peek at him as she dressed, and got a brief glimpse of his butt and thighs. A more fit and gorgeous sight she’d never seen.

  “How are you feeling today, luv?”

  “I’m good. No fever or dizziness.”

  “Rash?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Well, we’ll hang here for another couple of hours and then we’ll bushwalk for a while. We’ll head toward the ranger station, and after that, beyond to the next camp site. It might be late when we get there, but if we don’t dawdle too much, we’ll make it before dark. Do you want to see some flying foxes? Maybe a bilby?”

  “Yes!”

  “That’s apples. We’ll give it a go.”

  Waving a hand in front of her face, Peg made a small noise of complaint as she sprayed her body with chemicals. “These flies could drive a person crazy, and no amount of insect repellant seems to work.”