“Look,” he groans, leaning in closer, “I appreciate that you think you have options, but if you go down to that hole in the fucking wall place and let a bunch of flannel fucks think they have a chance of sinking between those creamy wet thighs, Iswear to fucking God, I’ll beat the shit out of every one of them. Is that what you want? Do you want me to spend every night in a blind fucking rage?”
Why is my pussy pulsing again? Why do I like that he’s so protective? Why do I want him to sit back in his chair so I can slide down onto his cock and bounce on his lap until he comes? Why do I want him dripping out of me all day?
“I don’t think you get to do that. I don’t belong to you.”
I think I’m having fun. I think this is the way the story goes before he grabs my arm, pulls me close, and leans me over his desk.
A moment later there’s a hard crack. A hard, echoing crack and a stinging pressure against my ass as his stiff cock presses into my hip.
“Say you don’t belong to me again.”
Oh God!
I should be repulsed, desperate to run, disgusted by his show of masculine overture, but I’m not. I’m not and I want more!
“I don’t belong to you,” I say again, this time bracing for another spank, which comes hard and fast.
“You little brat,” he growls. “Sitting at my desk, teasing me with that tight, little, virgin pussy, and now you run your mouth!”
I have never been talked to like this in my life, but who knew I’d like it this much?
Chapter Four
Archer
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should’ve closed the door. I should’ve walked away and ignored the fact I even saw her, naked, in my chair, touching that pretty pink pussy.
“Fuck.” I back away from her slowly, noting the dark red handprints on her ass. “Jesus… that was fucked up. I’m sorry… you’re—”
“A tease.” She grins sweetly, the echoes of her sweet little whimpers filling my mind.
Jesus Christ. I’m going to hell. I’m going to burn in fucking hell, and I think I’d do it all again.
I can’t imagine what people in this small town would think if they knew what an old man was doing in this back office with a sweet little virgin. We’d lose the distillery, our investment, and my brothers would lose their minds.
“Get dressed. I—”
The sound of a bottle smashing catches my attention.
What the fuck?
I don’t want to deal with that right now. I want to stay locked in this room, doing filthy things to a woman I shouldn’t be touching, or at least watching her do filthy things while I memorize every fucking second.
Another smash echoes.
“Get dressed.” I brush my hand against Marin’s shoulder in some attempt to comfort her, then swing open the door and peek into the hall to see a redneck from down the street going to town behind my bar.
These fuckers won’t quit.
“I’ll be back for you. I’m going to shut the party down.”
She nods slowly, soft red lips in a natural pout as I force myself to leave the office and head into the main bar where I see the redneck handing out coupons for free beer. It’s their favorite pastime these days, reminding all the locals in my distillery where theyshouldbe drinking.
I’d love to say it’s not fucking everything up, but it is. Mullet’s bar has been an establishment since the fucking watering hole was invented. A lot of folks feel like they’re betraying an institution by drinking here and the rednecks that run the place know to prey on that.
“Hey,” I groan, shoving the mustached kid back, taking the handwritten coupons out of his hand, “this is a private party.”
