“You don’t know what you thought. You’re mad because I took care of myself and handled the problem without your help.”
“Oh you handled it, did you? So the whole situation’s fixed?”
“Well…” His smile grows and so I rush to spit out, “Frankie and I are square. Ridge owes him an extra twenty-five thousand.” I laugh a few times to lighten the mood, but from the way he drops his grin and his lips pinch back together, I don’t think it works.
Okay, so fine.
I admit meeting with Frankie in the middle the night and then choosing to go off with the biker gang probably weren’t my highest moments, but it could have been worse. I can’t think of exactly how right now, but I’m alive so that’s a plus.
“Anessa…” he says my name and moves closer.
I stand my ground. Except when he stops, he doesn’t continue to argue but leans closer. His lips come within inches of mine, slowly, until they make contact. Bennett walks me backward until I hit the brick wall. Our tongues duel, our teeth clashing together. It happens so fast I have no time to argue. Not that I would.
Using all my strength I push away at his shoulders. Gasping to catch my breath. “What the hell is that?”
“That’s me letting you know you’re mine.” He pants in between each word.
“Yours?” With the words, a whisper of something I’m not quite familiar with grows. A feeling that tightens my entire body, but in the good way. A way of excitement.
“What do you want from me, Bennett?”
He sighs. “To take care of you. I thought it was painfully obvious.”
In what world is that painfully obvious?
“I want you in my bed, at my family dinner table, and watching Hercules with us twice a day.”
I decide to ignore the whole bed comment and focus on the two important ones. “You want me at your dinner table and watching Hercules?”
“Anessa,” he leans in kissing me again hard and full of emotion. “I want you everywhere.”
“Everywhere?”
“Hell. Right here.” He points to the metal table in the middle of the kitchen.
My eyes widen. “The prep table?” I bake there.
“You have been pretty bad tonight. I could lean you over the edge and spank you.”
“Bennett!” It’s so unlike the sweet gentle guy I’ve known the last few weeks.
He steps away, moving closer to the table. “Anessa, I haven’t talked to you in two days. You met with a known mafia associate in the woods and then were kidnapped by a biker gang.”
I try to look innocent. “But not a roving biker gang.”
He doesn’t laugh at my joke. “You deserve a spanking. But if that’s not your thing, I understand.”
Is it my thing? I lift a single shoulder. “Will it hurt?”
“Only if you want it to.” He curls one of his fingers silently telling me to come closer.
I do, but only a step, thinking about my answer. “I don’t think I want it to hurt, too much.”
When I get halfway to him, Bennett reaches out, grabs my hand, and pulls me the rest of the way. His lips ghost across my earlobe. “Lean over the table.”
“Right now?” My nervousness grows and I try to hide it behind the smile while heat pools in my core. I thought maybe we’d schedule it for next week. Scared and a little bit nervous, my body yells at me to get next to the table and lean my ass over.
“There’s no better time than the present.” Bennett places a hand on my shoulder turning my body to the table.
