While the jolt was disarming, the flood of sensations bypassed everything else. Being unable to feel my feet in heels was annoying and when I tried to back away, I stumbled just enough he grabbed both arms. His grip was firm, the hold far too possessive.
That’s when my brain kicked back into gear. “What are you doing in the ladies’ room?”
“Finishing our conversation.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and something acutely dark and demanding.
“It was finished and do you want to know why I’m certain of that cold, hard fact?”
He allowed the edges of his upper lip to upturn enough the creases in the corners of his eyes were more prevalent. An indication he was older than me.
It also added to the sex appeal that he had in spades.
“Why don’t you tell me.” The gruffness of his tone hummed through every muscle.
“Because I ended it. Now get out of my way before I kick your ass.” I pulled away, sidestepping him.
But he was having none of me walking away from him again. With a savage jerk, he yanked my body into the heat of his. With no warning, I was on my tiptoes, fighting the lean from the centrifugal force. In the strange bathroom light, his eyes were even more luminescent.
“Not until I say it’s finished.”
I was ready to launch into him again, but the words were caught in my throat. He had no intention of allowing me to recuperate or deny his authority. While he was fisting the back of my hair, wrapping his fingers in it, he was also shaking his head. No, nothing that was about to happen between us was a good idea.
Nothing at all.
Yet when he dared pull me tightly against him as if he owned me, I didn’t even try to fight him off. Maybe the woman inside who’d hidden herself away from any carnal act, including heavy flirting, was crying to experience a frivolous, heedless moment.
Besides, the musky scent of him drove me wild, and his demanding hold had sent several waves of excitement straight to my core. With a single quick action, he pushed me against the edge of the counter, yanking up my dress.
I had no time to object before he smashed his hand against my bottom. What the fuck was he doing?
“I told you what would happen if you dared threaten me again.” He’d been serious. Was he kidding me right about now?
Evidently not.
I was floored how much anguish a man’s palm could inflict. I was still numb, completely shocked anyone would do something so horrible. Yet here we were, a man I didn’t even know spanking me inside a women’s bathroom in a crowded bar.
“Who do you think you are?” I spouted off, a dark and twisted emotion springing to life deep within a silenced prison.
I wasn’t as angry as I was enthused. Even wet. Yet the pain was ridiculous, more than any moment of anguish I’d experienced in a very long time.
And he wasn’t ready to quit, marking my skin with his hand, moving from one side of my buttocks to the other. Damn if he didn’t have a gleam in his eyes. That angered me almost as much as the act itself.
“Let me go.”
“Not until you tell me you need this.”
“Not a chance.”
He laughed. “Then I’ll continue.” Which he did, dropping one brutal crack of his hand after another until I was so wet and hot, I couldn’t think clearly.
“Stop. Just stop.” When he did momentarily, I was finally able to catch my breath.
“You know what you need to do.”
When I didn’t answer him right away, he tightened his grip and continued, each swat harder than the last.
I stomped my feet and reached my hand back, but there was no escape.
“Fine. I need this. Okay? I admit it. Just stop.”
