The Brat and the Brainiac by Angela Sargenti Read Free Book Online Page A

blow chunks.”
    A lone tear spills over and I let go of her. She reaches across her body and pushes the left shoulder of her dress and bra down. There’s a scar there all right, but it’s only about three inches long and an eighth of an inch deep.
    I laugh. “That’s it?”
    She sniffles and dashes the tear away. “Yes.”
    “Big deal.”
    “It is a big deal,” she protests. “My parents were killed.”
    “I’m not talking about that. I mean the scar itself. It’s not that bad. You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were going to show me something really hard to look at.”
    “Well, how would you like to look at it every day of your life? Besides, it looks awful in a bathing suit.”
    “Miranda, it’s fine.” She doesn’t look convinced, and I know someone’s made fun of her for it in the past. “It’s fine.”
    She jumps to her feet, disbelief clear on her face.
    “I’m going to the bathroom,” she says in a pissed-off voice, stamping out of the room.
    “Okay.”
    When she gets back, she’s cool with me.
    “I don’t know if I can go out with you tomorrow after all,” she informs me. “I forgot I have a paper to write.”
    “Stop it.”
    “Stop what?”
    “Being a brat. You know you don’t have a paper to write.”
    She flops back down on the couch beside me and takes a different tack, pulling my head down for an angry kiss. I yank away and hold her off.
    “Hang on. Are we going out tomorrow or not?”
    “It depends. Are you going to fuck me?”
    I lift my brows, a little shocked by her language. “Tomorrow? How about we play it by ear and start with a nice lunch?” She gives me a funny look, a mixture of both hurt and irritation, and I say, “Laugh. It’s a joke.”
    “Ha ha.”
    She grabs me by the shirt and drags me closer, pressing herself up against me.
    “Come on,” she whines. “Uncle Tommy’s on a date and Ignatius is gone. We have the whole house to ourselves.”
    “I don’t even have my tests done yet.”
    “Don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a free pass.”
    “Thanks, but no.”
    She looks stymied, like no one has ever turned her down before.
    “Why not?” she asks me.
    “Because your uncle said not to, and I respect him, for one.”
    “What’s the other reason?”
    “Because I don’t want to.”
    Her shoulders sag and she looks like she wants to cry again. She just stares at me for a moment, and then suddenly, she speaks.
    “Are you gay?”
    “No.”
    “Then you’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
    “No.”
    “Come on. Admit it. You’re a wussy little virgin and you’re scared of Uncle Tommy.”
    I turn away, my jaw clenching. For a guy like me, five-foot eight and a hundred seventy pounds soaking wet, I’ve been called a wussy before, and it has never failed to piss me off.
    “You’re being a real brat.”
    “So what? What are you going to do about it? Tell my uncle on me?”
    “I’m going to put you over my knee if you’re not careful.”
    “Hah. That’s what you think, because if you touch me, my uncle will kill you.”
    “Let him.”
    We stare at each other a moment, and I can see it in her eyes, that she’s a little aroused by the idea.
    “Well? Go ahead, you wussy. You can’t do anything to me.”
    To prove her wrong, I catch her wrist in my hand and drag her down across my lap.
    “Wait...what are you doing?”
    “I’m doing what you told me to. I’m spanking your ass.”
    “You can’t.”
    “I can and I am.”
    Pinning her down with my elbow between her shoulder blades and a hand on her hip, I smack her bottom hard. She yelps and starts trying to escape, but I’ve got a good grip o n he r .
    “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “I told you. I’m spanking your ass.”
    With that, I give her a few more swats over her dress. Her ass is nice and firm, and my heart’s pounding. I played around with spanking my girlfriend one time in college, but only half-heartedly. She wanted to role-play, and I felt stupid, but