“When you finish eating, you can watch whatever you want.” She took a step and stopped again. “As long as it’s nothing we have to pay extra for.”
He flopped onto the bed nearest the inside wall. “You’re no fun. I used to watch Gramps’s porn all the time.”
“I guess you’re just out of luck here. Think of it this way. Do you really want to be sporting a woody with me in the room?”
“Shit, Sis! I need something to clean out my ears. Sick. Totally sick.” His face crinkled up with his fingers in his ears as he pretended to gag.
“That took care of that,” she murmured. Smiling, she shut the bathroom door behind her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Angel looked into the mirror after swiping the condensation from the glass. She stared hard at her reflection, her face clean of makeup. When would the harsh things she’d been made to do show up on her face? Or maybe it did already and she didn’t see it. For the last few years, she’d worn self-imposed blinders to get through each day. So who was to say they weren’t still on? Since money was tight, and would become tighter as she avoided using her ATM or credit card, she had bought only the essentials. But she still had her makeup in the backpack and the gun in her coat pocket. She shook her head. Makeup and guns? When had she become that kind of person? Equating ownership of a weapon with beauty products?
Clasping the counter, her head hanging down to her chest, she inhaled. The shower dripped behind her. Her damp hair curled around her face and chin. The blow dryer had done a sorry job. She took another deep breath.
Was she wrong for running away with her brother? More like running scared. If she’d stayed, she could see herself becoming obsessed even more with Jake Whitfield. Obsessed with doing anything he wanted so he would marry her. How pitiful was that? It wasn’t just for the money and property or even about her brother. The lonely semi-virgin consumed by a Whitfield, wanting his body, his cock, and his hand stinging her butt. A shiver tingled from the top of her head to her toes. Despite slashing him—truthfully she’d meant to warn him and nothing more—and throwing her knife and the letter opener, she wasn’t a violent person, no matter how hard Mac had trained her. Anytime she’d hurt someone before, it had been in self-defense.
Jake made her crazy. Different emotions pulled her one way and then another. She wanted his touch, but felt ashamed by her quick and easy response. For years, she’d dreamed of his hands on her again, but she wanted more stroking and massaging along with slapping the fleshy part of her ass. And goodness, he’d done that. His mouth between her legs...she released a shaky sigh. The memory shot tingles to her breasts and pussy. But she knew he didn’t really want her. Why would he? He could have any woman in Marystown, probably the whole county. Taking a deep breath, she straightened and shook off the feeling. She needed to concentrate on what she should do next.
From the sound of the TV, her brother had decided on a football game. Wonders never ceased. He was more of the typical geeky teenager who loved video games. Then again, he’d been changing and noticing girls more. She laughed silently. Between the Playboy magazines and Mac’s porn, yeah, she could say that.
She tested the underwear hanging on the towel rack. Still damp. She’d washed the new panties and her old bra but the blow dryer did an even worse job drying the cotton than it had her hair. Yuck.
Brushing her hair back with her fingers, she refused to look in the mirror again. With a sigh, she jerked the oversized tee shirt on and cringed as she slipped into the jeans commando. Then she carefully folded up her leather pants and corset and stuffed them into the backpack.
She opened the door and walked around the corner into the dim bedroom area. “Okay. It’s your turn.” Cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. That little sneak. She bit back a grin. The boy had guts.
Opening her mouth to fuss, she snapped it shut. His bed was empty. Her gaze slid to the other bed. Her throat closed around her heart.
“How did you find us?”
Jake Whitfield looked at home as he leaned back against the headboard; his long legs stretched out down the bed and ankles crossed. He pressed a button on the remote and flipped to another football game. He blew out a stream of smoke into the air and then dropped the butt into a soda can on the nightstand. His gaze darted to her before returning to the TV screen.
Powerful and potent, his presence alone darkened the room and filled it with danger, floating above her head like the smoke from his extinguished cigarette. Each movement of his hard body captivated her.
“Easy. I tracked you down using the GPS.” He continued to watch the game. His indifference worried her more than she wanted to admit. Similar to a tiger pretending to sleep until the prey came closer.
She needed to run for the back door, but a few things stopped her: her brother was missing and she was certain he’d stashed him somewhere, and he held a gun pointed at her.
“That’s impossible. I disabled it.” Was this it? No matter how she felt and how he treated her in his study, it didn’t necessarily mean he cared a rat’s ass for her. Would he kill her and leave her body for the maids to find?
“You disabled the one from the factory. All of my vehicles have an extra GPS. A few are rigged to lock the steering and stall the engine, and the Stingray is one of them. Since I didn’t want to take a chance you’d ditch it for thieves to strip, I followed you.” He clicked the remote and the room became quiet and pitch black in the corners. Light from the bathroom helped, but his face remained hidden in the shadows. “You look different, better without that white and black shit on your face.”
“Where’s Damien?” she asked, ignoring his comment.
The air conditioning kicked on and a chill swept over her. Oh, she wanted—needed to cross her arms over her breasts. With no makeup and no underwear, she almost felt naked. Standing in the light from the bathroom, he could probably see her nipples standing at attention against the thin cotton T-shirt. She looked for her coat and noticed it draped over a chair next to the small table instead of the bed. Had he checked her pockets?
“Don’t even think about it. I put the Beretta out of reach, and your brother’s on his way back to the house.”
Was he as angry and lethal as his voice sounded?
“Then let’s leave. Where he goes, I go.” She stepped toward the plastic bag on the bed, and the muzzle of the gun followed her movement. “There’s only clothing in it,” she explained.
“I know.” He motioned his gun toward her, his face still in the shadows. “Strip.”
“What?” Her whole body flushed with embarrassment and hunger.
“You heard me.”
“Is this how you get women in bed with you?” Her condemnation mixed with the need to comply puckered her nipples further into painful nubs. Her body had as little sense as she did when it came to Jake.
“This afternoon, I could’ve been sunk balls deep in you with your legs wrapping my waist and have you begging for more.” His tone gave away his amusement at the thought. Asshole. “Strip, and don’t make me say it again. It’s time for your spanking. You’ve pushed me until I have no other choice.”
“You have lots of choices, and you’re not my dad or granddaddy for that matter. Besides I’m too old for whippings.” Memory of the way his hands felt on her that fateful day had taught her something about herself.
“Spankings.” He corrected her. “There is a difference you’ll understand tonight.” Then he said in a steady but cold tone, “I’m waiting. You wouldn’t want to experience the consequences beyond what you face already.”
Her pussy actually pulsed from the thought of being naked and over his knee. She’d never been so aware of a man in her life. The challenge he threw at her had sparked the roaring need she experienced whenever she remembered his hand on her tender buttocks.
A few seconds passed before she realized he said more after his initial threat. “What kind of consequences?”
“I can easily say no to marrying you and handle the fa
llout with your grandfather’s people. But I’d rather have them work with me because I’m your husband and your brother’s guardian, though I’m sure I can convince them it’s in their best interest, even without your cooperation and my ring on your finger.”
Her hands fisted. No way would she let him take control of her people. Not that she had any worries, they were loyal to the Tallys. Besides, she didn’t have a problem with him having control of her body. She’d fantasized about his touch for a long time and what he desired meshed with hers. She exhaled.
“Marrying you isn’t my big dream either,” she lied. No need to make everything too easy for him. She’d dreamed about him for so many years. Dreamed about having him to herself and the two of them repeating that fateful day in the classroom.
The mattress squeaked when his long legs scissored off the bed, and he stood in front of her. She jumped and stared wide-eyed up into his face.
“Let me explain it this way;” he said in a near whisper. "If you don’t obey me, I’ll be sure the next time you see your brother he’ll be over thirty-five.” He sounded more threatening than if he had hollered.
That pissed her off. She bit her bottom lip and nearly snarled. What would ranting solve?
Traffic noise peppered the room as they stared at each other.
She straightened her shoulders. “Listen, I understand where you’re coming from. You’re being dictated to from the grave by your old man. You hate it. It’s the same for me.” All she wanted was be an ordinary girl. “Mac never made my life easy either. Let’s come to an agreement.”
“I’m listening.” His voice was deep and rough with restraint.
“You have me at a disadvantage. I have a feeling you can ignore Mac’s will and still come out on top. For me, I’ll get nothing from no one, and I can’t even be around my brother unless I marry you.” He growled with frustration at her repeating what he already knew. “So what I offer is, I’ll marry you, take control of my people, and look after my brother. That way you won’t have to change your lifestyle. You keep the funds from Mac’s will for being Damien’s guardian, and I’ll work with you. Treat me as an equal in business, and in the bedroom, you’ll be in control.” She paused for emphasis. “Fully.” If he agreed, could he tell she would get everything she ever wanted, including him, naked, in her bedroom? She wanted it so badly she could taste...no, feel it. Her whole body tingled and heated with a full-blown, lust-filled ache for him.
To prove her willingness, she crossed her arms, grabbed the ends of her T-shirt and slowly lifted it. She told herself she could convince Jake this would be the best option, but deep inside, she knew if he said no, she would find a way to persuade him. She wanted his full attention. His hands on her. She was old enough to know not everyone was wired the same way, didn’t get pleasure from the same actions. Some women wanted flowers and to be wooed. Not her. She wanted what he obviously wanted, too.
From the moment she’d seen Jake at the cemetery, she knew he’d grown not only into the broad shoulders he possessed when he was sixteen, but into the authority he inherited. Power was a turn on and when it was combined with good looks and smarts, it was a bigger turn on.
Another reason she agreed to marry him was no one else in her life had the presence and guts to wield the power Jake did. And Jake’s power could protect Damien no matter what she thought about his family. His power in the community and beyond could be a big help.
Who was she kidding? His power was no more than the icing on the cake.
She wanted to see what he’d learned since becoming an adult. Along with not having the time or opportunity, no one had interested her or captured her attention the years after he’d laid hands on her. Life had been difficult since leaving school, but she’d learned if she wanted something, she had to take every advantage and grab it while she could. She wanted Jake.
She dropped the shirt on the floor and stood straight, her bare nipples begging for his mouth.
“I’m waiting.” His eyes flared hot, bringing the warmth in her cheeks up a notch.
She thumbed the snap below her bellybutton and pulled on the zipper tab. With a push, the jeans circled her ankles, and she stepped to the side, kicking the denim out of the way.
“What now?” Her challenging tone caused his brows to lift. What was she thinking? She scarcely registered his hand placing the gun on the dresser before he wrapped strong arms around her. Every sane thought left her brain. She wanted to taste him again.
Her mouth met his halfway. The touch sucked her into a whirlwind of emotions she’d never experienced. His kiss in the study was nothing compared to the one he gave her now. With his big hands he clasped her tight. Her nude body against the roughness of his clothes felt intoxicating. His tongue stroked hers until she gasped for breath. He caressed her shoulders to the small of her back. Her hands followed the dip of his spine beneath his shirt to the waist of his jeans. She loved touching him and being touched. Loved the hardness in the right places, rubbing and thrusting against her.
With a tight grip on her upper arms, he pushed her onto the bed and crawled in next to her. Resting on his elbow, he looked down, dancing his fingertips up and down her body, between her trembling breasts.
“Shh, everything’s fine. Damn, your skin is so pale and soft. Like a woman’s should be.” He tilted his head, his gaze skimming her face before dropping to her chest. “When you were wearing that getup earlier, your breasts pushed up, begging for my touch, your skin appeared almost luminescent.” He cupped one mound and squeezed, lightly pressing his fingers into her flesh and releasing his hold. “Look how your skin responds, changing to a light pink. I bet with the right pressure it turns to a beautiful rose color. Close to the same color as your lips.” His other hand traveled up and his thumb rubbed across her lower lip. As if he couldn’t resist, he cupped her breast again, but this time gently rolled the tip with his index finger. “I hate the thought of others seeing so much of you. You’re not to wear that anymore. That is, except for me.”
“Corset,” she whispered. Her desire to have him touch more brought out a hunger she needed satisfied and only he could sate.
“What?” He pinched the nub. She exhaled and pushed out her chest, begging for more. Every stroke caused her to clench her thighs, and moisture betrayed her desire for his stinging touch.
“Corset. That’s what the top is called,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah. Corset. Nothing showing so much of your breasts. Only for me and only when we’re alone.” He bent down and sucked on the tender nipple. Finally. She’d been wanting his mouth on them again. Nothing felt so good, except one other spot. Oh, she hoped he would go there again.
He bit at the tip.
She released a long drawn out hiss, loving how he set them on fire. When he moved away she pushed up on her elbows, confused.
His back to her, he sat on the edge of the bed.
“What―” She worried her lip.
“Over my knees,” his voice brooked no argument.
She swallowed, needing to clear her throat, not dry from fear but wet in anticipation. She climbed off the bed and stood near enough to feel his body heat.
His knees spread enough to provide support for her upper body. Even in the dim room, she could see his cock pressed full and hard against his zipper. She wanted to reach out and run a finger down the bulge, instead she looked into his face. The cold, harsh expression didn’t frighten her away, it drew her nearer. She wanted to caress the sharp angles of his cheeks and stubborn chin. She wanted to see him go up in flames for her.
“Face down. Rest your breasts against the outside of my leg and your stomach on top of the other.” Each word firm and precise. How many women had he spanked since high school?
Nervousness shook her limbs, yet a need clawed at her to the point she was afraid she’d start crying and beg him to take her. First, she wanted to feel the sharp slap on her ass, bringing back the memories of so long ago. Would the feel
ing be the same or more? Or were the memories just that, misleading ones? The difference would be they understood more of what they had experienced then, and now knew how to satisfy the desire the act created.
With trembling knees, she stepped to his side and bent over, following his instructions. She felt his cock jump next to her hip. Taking a deep breath, the air heavy in her lungs, she expected the first smack to follow immediately, but nothing happened.
What was he waiting for?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jake stared down at the heart-shaped rear he’d thought about often over the years. He’d worried for a short period after the incident in high school that he might be a pervert and needed to abuse young girls to get himself off. By college, he quickly understood he enjoyed women, not girls, all consenting and enjoying the way he dominated their time together in bed. That was why he carefully picked the women he played with. Not every woman loved having their ass spanked before sex or took commands well from a lover when they were alone. Though he could be dictatorial outside the bedroom, he understood the need for the independent woman to hide that part of herself in public. And he liked that a lot. Knowing that the woman lived her life self-confidently each day, would later that evening be screaming in pleasure after she presented her ass to him, begging on her knees for his marks, for his cock, and willing to do whatever he commanded.
He smoothed his hand over the soft globes and squeezed one and then the other.
“You do understand why I feel it’s necessary to punish you?” He didn’t wait for her response. “I accept your offer of being a united front for everyone. But leaving without my permission and stealing my car, throwing knives and letter openers at me, I won’t put up with insubordination from a wife.”
Her body jerked in surprise when he said wife. She understood. He’d already thought of her as his wife, his property, his to command. Her present obedience assured him she wanted what he offered. While he tracked her down, he’d come to the realization he’d been waiting for her all these years. Every woman he’d fucked and played with had been a sorry substitute for her. He couldn’t imagine anyone else in her place. Maybe it was partly from her being his first, the one who showed him his darkest desires. It had to be the reason he decided to meet the will’s requirement. At the time he’d flipped her on her back after chasing her down and looked into her eyes, he knew something special had happened. He’d never been so turned on. Then again, from what he’d been told and seen, no other woman he ever bedded before would be as dangerous as her. That idea hardened his cock until he ached.
Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel Page 7
