He reaches for my chin and holds it so I can’t look away. Quaking under the look he’s giving me, I stare at his lips, full and gently parted, like he wants to kiss me.
When he speaks, he bares his teeth to me like an animal. If I could step back, I would.
“Because if you were mine,” he says in a low rumble that ignites every nerve in my body, “you wouldn’t be allowed to hold things back from me. I’d train you to talk to me. To tell me what was on your mind and stop giving me bullshit answers and half-truths. You’d learn to speak honestly and answer my questions when I asked.”
I stare, aghast. I’m not sure he’s gotten the memo that this is the twenty-first century.
What’s scarier is that I’m not sure I care. The latent threat in his words, delivered in that protective yet nearly overbearing tone, electrifies me.
“If you were mine,” he continues, “I would discipline you for going out alone without a guard. You’d learn, and quickly, that putting yourself in danger merits swift and severe punishment.”
I’ve forgotten that I’m standing in his living room in my panties. I’ve forgotten the stinging pain in my knees. I’ve forgotten my crush on him, how badly I wanted his attention, because now that I have it, I realizeHe. Is. An. Asshole.
“How dare you?” I hiss. “Howdareyou?”
“You asked,” he retorts. “I responded.”
“Then I guess I’m fucking lucky that I’m not yours, then,” I seethe, even as I imagine myself sprawled over his lap while he punishes me. Even though a part of me craves the thought of belonging to him.Warring desire and shock make my body tremble at the thought of him taking me across his knee. Tied to his bedpost so he can… discipline me.
What other dark and devious things would he do to me?
I want to know.
Oh. My. God.
I can’t deny that the thought both horrifies and excites me.
Is that what being with a man like Thayer means?
How could I ever have a crush on someone like him?
I’m turning away when the sudden memory of what I saw tonight overcomes me. That woman tied up and terrified, dragged between two men like she was nothing but chattel…
I look back to him.
We’re too close.
Too close.
“Are you sure about that, love?”
He’s breathing heavily as his fingers skate up the length of my arm, wrapping me in a cocoon of heavy, heated anticipation. The touch of his hand sends shockwaves through my body, and when he cups my jaw, my heart threatens to leap out of my chest. Thayer’s sharp blue eyes hold mine. My body vibrates with tension.
No, of course I’m not sure about that. I’m not sure at all.
His mouth hovers over mine. Part of me yearns to submit to this, even as another part warns me to run. I’ve imagined this moment, but it was so different. I wasn’t half-naked, we weren’t arguing, he hadn’t just told me he’d punish me.
I want this. I want him. But I’m afraid of what will happen if he kisses me.
His lips press against mine insistently, and my warring thoughts disappear as suddenly as they came. My body heats, a fusion of light and longing and a desperate, throbbing need that builds when my lips part and his tongue meets mine. Strong fingers massage the back of my neck while his other hand strokes my thigh.
I want him.Oh, God, I want him.
A door opens. Voices coming our way.
He lets me go. I jump backward as if scorched.
What are we doing?
