Page 27 of Carter

I go very still.

“I do not want a quieter Sasha,” he says. “I do not want an easier Sasha. I want you. My responsibility is to know the difference between protecting you and controlling you. Your responsibility is to tell me when I get it wrong instead of climbing out a window.”

A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. “That seems unfairly reasonable.”

“Get used to it.”

I quickly tell him yes. That he has cared for me in ways I never knew how to ask for. That I love him, and that being loved generously is not the same thing as being incapable of standing on my own.

He says, “Then I’m the one who’s held up their end of the bargain. Aren’t I?”

I nod. I bite the flesh of my bottom lip. My hand finds my hair.

He leans in. He speaks and his voice is thick, rough. “So which of the two of us is the one that needs rules? Punishments? Their naughty bottom spanked till they cry?”

I’m aching for him. My nipples tighten uncomfortably in my bra. I say, “Me.” I’m sweating.

“And what happens to your pretty little cunny when I spank your bottom?”

My face is suddenly burning. I shift in my chair, clenching my legs together. “It gets… wet.”

A wicked smile flashes across his face. “That’s the way of the Bachman brotherhood.”

My mouth opens to speak. No words come out. I put the tip of my thumb in it, biting my nail.

He gives me a look—conversation closed. He says, “Like I said, I think we’ve covered it.” He slips his notebook and pen back into his bag.

I stare at him. I’m biting off my nail. I’m tugging at the end of my ponytail. I wait for him to speak.

I want him to tell me to come home.

But he’s not.

My heart sinks as he says, “Sasha, you’re going to stay at the hotel. One more night. To let everything set in. I want you ready. Once we begin our new life, there’s no turning back.”

The thought of another night without him kills me. And the way he has me so riled up—I want him to alleviate the burning in my core. The tightness in my pussy. Pinch my achy nipples. “But, Carter, I thought⁠—”

He holds his hand up to stop me. “We’re done for today. And Sasha, when you come home tomorrow, we pick up right where we left off.” His right brow raises at me. His mouth a firm line.

The punishment that I had waiting for me when we got back from the club. The one I ran out on.

He gets up from his chair, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He holds his hand out for me. I stand, my knees shaky. He wraps his arm around me. He kisses the top of my head.

He walks me out of the café. Our untouched drinks sit at the table. When we reach the sidewalk, his driver is already waiting. He opens the door for me. Waits for me to get in.

He hasn’t even given me a proper kiss since we’ve gotten back together.

And he’s not going to.

Why?

I search his gaze, but his hand is on the door. Waiting.

I climb in the car. We exchange goodbyes. As the driver waits for the traffic to clear, I watch Carter walk down the sidewalk.

That confident gait. His broad shoulders rolling as he walks. The muscles in his back just visible through his thin shirt. He’s going about his day. It’s as if I don’t exist.

But I’m stuck in his car, headed to the hotel.