“Use the whip,” he grunts in between thrusts. “And tell me off! I want you to scold me.”
I grab the pink whip. Tell him off? What the fuck do I say? “You’ve been a bad boy,” I say, channeling my inner dominatrix. “And . . . Daddy’s home,” I add for extra effect, feeling ridiculous.
“LOUDER,” he barks.
“All right, all right. You need a good spanking for being such a naughty little fucker!” I declare with newfound confidence.
“What the hell, Lexi?”
That criminally sinful voice cuts through the room, freezing me mid-swing. I look up in horror to find a very tense Connor filling the doorway.
I go still, pink leather whip poised in hand like some sort of demented dominatrix Barbie doll.
Oh shit.
TWENTY-NINE
Lexi
“Hey! Get your own booth, man,” Brad shouts, still bent over obediently in front of me.
I scramble to find my footing, my jaw almost hitting Brad’s backside.
“Connor?” I choke out, half convinced the tequila’s messing with me. But no, there he is, fuming, even after I blink.
“How did you—have you beentrackingme?” My voice hits a new high.
Connor’s expression is downright murderous as he takes in the scene before him. His glare shifts over my date, who’s still loyally at my feet.
“Yeah, I’ve had someone on you,” he growls. “I promised to keep you safe. With an international cartel that’s potentially a threat to you, what did you expect, Lexi? You and Grace have been under constant watch.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just storm in here!”
“I thought something happened to you when my guys reported you were here,” he retorts, frustration clear. “I called you ten times. No answer. I thought someone might be forcing you into something against your will.”
“I came here of my own free will, Connor.”
I stand there dumbly, dominatrix whip dangling uselessly.
Connor shoots Brad a death stare. “Time to go, buddy” he says sharply.
I bristle, snapping back to life. “Excuse me? You’re the one who should fuck off! I’m trying to enjoy a date here, not put on a peep show for you.”
Connor’s eyes flash dangerously. “Not anymore you’re not.”
“You’re Connor Quinn,” Brad mutters, obviously thrown by the situation.
I march right up to Connor, temper flaring. “Get out. You have no right to be here. This is a private party, and you weren’t invited.”
“I was worried. I broke speed limits to get here. I might as well hand over all the keys to my cars to you now, since I’ll probably be banned from driving after tonight.”
“Thanks for the overkill concern and for the cartel watch, but this is goodbye. Adios. Auf Wiedersehen.”
“We’ve got to talk, Lexi.”
“We’re way past talking.” I stand chest to chest with him, glaring up defiantly. Even in heels, he towers over me. “I told you to leave. I can’t stand looking at you right now!”
His jaw sets hard. “I don’t like how we ended things the other night.”
