This is my first fic so apologies in advance for any newbie mistakes. Reviews would be very much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. This fic features spanking, including parental spanking of a teenager. If that's not your thing, please move right along.

Chapter 2

You could practically see the steam coming out of Ethan's ears, Sutton chuckled to herself as the car sped through darkened streets.

Not that she dared say it, mind. Sutton might be as bold as brass, but even she could see it was best to keep it zipped for the time being – much as she wanted to discuss this little rendez-vous they were apparently having.

Which appeared to be happening at chez Whitehorse, she realised, as Ethan parked and got out. Ru-ude, thought Sutton, until she realised he had walked around to the passenger side and was now holding the door open.

"Aren't you going to say please?"

"Sutton, I'm tired of this." Ethan rubbed his forehead, a pained look on his face. "Do you never get sick of putting on this act? Or is this actually all there is to you?"

"What do you mean, all there is?"

She was planning to just refuse to do anything he said, to stay in the car and make things difficult, but Sutton was curious now.

Not to mention kind of ticked off. As if she was somehow lacking. As if her popularity didn't speak for itself.

"Please get out of the car, Sutton."

Sutton let out a melodramatic sigh and swung her Marc Jacobs t-straps out of Ethan's car. She watched as Ethan turned on his heel and marched toward the trailer. She didn't have to follow, but she wanted to know just why Ethan's panties were in such a twist.

A few minutes later, Sutton sat on Ethan's couch as he busied himself finding drinks. As she took the soda he was offering, she expected him to sit down beside her, but he stood against the opposite wall instead, arms folded, brow furrowed.

"Hey Whitehorse, chill out. You know what they say about the wind changing."

"Sutton, I wasn't kidding. I've had enough. I am going to talk now, and you are going to listen."

Sutton started to get up, amazed that Ethan thought he could speak to her like that, but something stopped her.

Maybe it was the blazing fury in Ethan's eyes. Or maybe it was just the burning curiosity as to what, exactly, he was going to say.

"Okay then, Ethan, I'll listen." She leaned back and made a big show of getting comfy on the sofa. Ethan said nothing for quite some time.

She wanted to tell him to spit it out, but somehow that would feel like losing. So she waited until, at long last, he began to speak.

"Sutton, you're lucky that Ted and Kristen adopted you. You've had a much better childhood than I did, and you've definitely had a better time of it than Emma. They did a great job of spoiling you, but they didn't do such a good job of raising you."

Sutton opened her mouth to interject, then decided to wait a little longer.

"The way you speak to your parents, to your sister – to both your sisters – and to everyone else is disgusting, and it's been that way for as long as I can remember. And why do you do it? Because you can. Because your parents never taught you any proper respect. If I had dared to behave the way you do, Sutton, my father would have had his belt off faster than you can say: spoilt brat."

"Your father belted you?"

"Sometimes," Ethan said. "When he was around. I usually deserved it. Something tells me you've never experienced anything resembling proper discipline, Sutton. What do your parents do? Ground you, then take it back a few days later? Lucky you, but it's not so great for everyone who has to put up with you."

Sutton said nothing. How could she tell Ethan the truth? How could she tell Ethan that she was... jealous?