She sucked a harsh breath. Oh, she was not going to put up with that.
So she twisted again.
Gideon cursed, his arm tightening around her thighs so she couldn’t move. Then he brought his palm down on her butt a second time.
There was a sharp crack of sound, then the sting, drawing another gasp from her and this time making tears start in her eyes. Because he wasn’t holding back. He was honest to God spanking her.
Stupid. She really should stop this right now.
There was a hot, raw feeling, a pulsing ache between her thighs. Making her increasingly aware that the hard ridge of his shoulder was pressing onto the zipper of her jeans. That all she needed to do was wriggle down a little farther and the pressure would be right . . . there.
This wasn’t stupid. She was the one who was stupid. Because she had to be. There was no other explanation for the urge that filled her. The one that made her wriggle again against his shoulder as if she actually wanted more.
He didn’t say a word, his palm coming down even harder this time.
Zoe jerked, the pain fading quickly, leaving behind the sweet burn that had her shifting her hips, searching for the pressure that would ease the ache, make everything better.
But Gideon’s palm didn’t lift this time, staying firmly on her butt, and as her hips moved, he pressed down, his fingers giving her ass one hard squeeze.
She caught her breath, because that hurt too, yet it also increased the nagging ache. Trying to keep the groan of frustration inside so he wouldn’t know, she bit her lip instead, tasting blood.
He said nothing, keeping his palm exactly where it was as he resumed his journey down the hallway, pausing only to kick open the door of her bedroom before stepping inside.
Zoe barely had a moment to catch her breath before he shifted her off his shoulder, dumping her back down on her bed.
She sat there a second, feeling dizzy and her butt stinging, the remains of anger and thwarted desire churning uncomfortably in her gut, realizing with a cold shock that her performance in the hallway had probably revealed something she would have rather kept hidden.
She didn’t want to look at him, to see whatever expression was on his face—probably disgust because hell, she’d virtually begged him to spank her and then wriggled around like a fish on a line. He’d know what was going on, he wasn’t stupid.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Gideon’s voice was hard.
Zoe reluctantly lifted her head and looked at him.
He was standing in front of her, his arms crossed, staring down at her, his expression absolutely neutral. As if he hadn’t just spanked her on the butt in the hallway.
But she could see something in his black eyes. Something that hadn’t been there before. God . . . was that . . . ? No, it couldn’t be. She’d been looking for a response from him for years and had never seen any sign of one. It had to be wishful thinking to imagine he’d found that as affecting as she had.
“Sure,” she said slowly, her heartbeat thumping hard in her ears. “As soon as you tell me why the hell you hit me.”
That something—a spark, a flame, she wasn’t sure which—leapt again in his gaze. Then he blinked and it was gone. “Consequences,” he said, his tone flat. “You don’t get enough of them.”
Yes, she’d imagined it. Or maybe it was only temper she’d seen.
A disappointment she didn’t want to feel curled through her.
Slowly she put her hands on the bed and leaned back on them. If he looked farther down, he’d see what she wasn’t able to hide. That her nipples were hard. Not that it mattered. He didn’t see her that way and no amount of wishing it were otherwise would change things.
Maybe you should ask yourself why he put his hand on you in the first place.
Zoe swallowed as the realization hit. He’d never touched her before, not like that. Hugs, yes, plenty of those. Spanks on the butt? No, definitely not.
She looked at him, staring at the familiar lines of his face. Straight black brows. The sharp blade of his nose. His beautifully carved mouth. Eyes the color of darkest obsidian.
Was she wrong? Had there actually been something there? After all, he’d put his hand on her and something felt different now. Changed in some way. As if a line had been crossed. A line she didn’t want to cross back over again.
“Consequences, huh?” she said, unable to keep the husky edge from her voice. “Sorry, but if you want to teach me a lesson, Gideon, you’ll have to do better than that.”
* * *
Gideon kept his arms folded, mainly because he didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t.
Zoe was sitting on the bed, leaning back on her hands as if it didn’t matter to her that he’d just spanked her ass like a naughty kid. Her cheeks were red and her amber eyes were dark, a smoky, slightly glazed look in them.
All of which were enough to make him conscious of something he didn’t want to be conscious of.
But that wasn’t the worst part of it.
The worst part of it was the heat from her denim-clad ass lingering on his palm, her gasp of shock replaying itself over and over in his brain, and the feel of her lithe, slender body shifting around on his shoulder as if she was searching for something.
He knew what she was searching for. He knew why she’d gasped. And now he knew why she’d been pushing him, inciting him.
Like it’s such a shock? You’ve always known about her feelings for you.
Yeah, he’d known. He’d only thought it was a giant case of hero worship that if he ignored, she’d eventually grow out of.
Didn’t look like she’d grown out of it.
Christ, he should never have put his hand down on her. Never. He’d just lost it, which was ridiculous given the fact that he never lost it and certainly not with her. But if she wasn’t going to do what he said, then he’d have to make her. How else was he going to protect her?
You put your hand on her. You smacked her ass.
His anger shifted and changed, turning inward, on himself. He’d have punched anyone who’d done that to her, punched them right in the mouth. So why the fuck had he done it to her?
He couldn’t think of one good reason. Only that she’d dared him, goaded him, told him he didn’t have the balls. Then she’d twisted like an eel on his shoulder and he’d just . . . brought down his palm. And not just once. He’d done it three times.
Because you liked it.
The thought stuck in his head like a thorn.
Zoe was staring at him, her cheeks pink, her eyes full of a very specific kind of challenge. A very feminine challenge.
Fucking hell. This was bad, very bad. Did she even know what she was doing? No, of course she didn’t. She was an innocent, a goddamn virgin and no matter how much she threw herself at him, it wasn’t going to happen.
Zoe was Zoe and he’d never looked at her that way in his life.
Except you did like it and you are looking at her that way now.
No, he wasn’t. Good God, she was a child. A kid. His little foster sister. And wherever the hell these thoughts were coming from, they could fuck right off again.
Gritting his teeth, he kept his gaze on hers and tried to ignore the fact that her tight white T-shirt did nothing to hide her hard nipples. Or how her worn skinny jeans outlined the long, slender shape of her legs. Her hair was thick and curly, and he knew if he sank his fingers into it, it would feel soft....
“No,” he said, both to her and to himself. “I’m not gonna do anything of the kind. The only lesson you need to learn is that you’re staying in this apartment even if I have to lock you in myself.”
“Is that so?” She shifted on the bed. “You know what? You’re a hypocrite, Gideon. You were such a prick to Levi about how he treated Rachel at first, and yet you apparently don’t have any problems with shutting me in my bedroom, or spanking me in the hallway.” She tilted her head, the thick dark curls drifting over her shoulders. “
I wonder what the others would say if I told them that?”
His anger twisted again, at her for being so goddamn stubborn. At himself for not being able to deal with this the way he normally would.
So she wanted to play hardball? Well, maybe that was the answer. He knew how to play that game—he’d once made a living out of it after all. But he’d never played it with Zoe; he’d never needed to.
Seemed liked he needed to now.
He had to make her back off before this hero-worship shit she had going on for him did some real damage, and the only way to do that was to show her he wasn’t the hero she thought he was and never had been. Hell, maybe even frighten her. He didn’t want to do it, but he would. For both their sakes.
He even had an idea about how. The little virgin needed to see exactly what she’d be getting herself into with him, and he was betting she wasn’t going to like it.
Gideon straightened, locking gazes with her, concentrating the entire force of his stare on her. Men had once quailed when he’d done that to them, mostly because they all knew what it meant.
That it was time to pay.
Zoe didn’t know that though and she didn’t quail. She only raised that chin of hers in defiance.
“So, you liked that, did you?” he asked softly, putting a certain amount of menace into his tone. “You liked me spanking your ass?”
She blinked and the color in her cheeks deepened. “Maybe.”
“I think you did.” He let his gaze dip very pointedly to her chest. “At least, your body did.”
She shrugged, obviously trying to be cool and just as obviously not doing a very good job. “Yeah, and?”
“Did it make you hot, little one?” He kept his voice soft, kept his gaze on hers. “Did it make you wet?”
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, her blush deepening even more. “Well I . . . liked it. So?”
He moved forward, keeping his arms folded, slowly closing the distance between himself and the bed. “Did you want me to keep going? Pull down your jeans and put you over my knee? Spank that sweet ass of yours until it was bright red?”
Zoe’s soft mouth dropped open, her cheeks crimson. “I . . . I . . .”
“But you wanted more than that, didn’t you?” he went on. “You wanted to be taught a real lesson.”
“What lesson?” She was trying to pull herself together, he noticed. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t affecting her in the slightest, as if men dirty-talked her all the time. “If you’re talking about more spanking then sure, why not?”
He bent and put one hand flat to the bed on either side of her hips. Then he leaned forward so they were almost nose to nose. “I don’t think you want me as your teacher, little one. In fact, I’m pretty fucking sure of it.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “W-why not?”
Jesus, she could give a mule a run for its money.
“Because when you’re over my knee, I’d tie your hands behind your back so you couldn’t move.” He leaned forward even more, making her rear back. “Then I’d spank your ass red for being such a fucking brat.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh? Well, I could—”
“What? You think a spanking is all I’d give you?” He didn’t take his gaze from hers as he began to move forward, steadily forcing her backward. “I like dealing out punishment. It’s my favorite. It’s what I’m good at and spanking that ass is not the only way to do it.”
Zoe had pushed herself away from him until she was in the middle of the bed, but he didn’t stop. “I’d hold you down, spread your legs, play with your pussy.” He leaned over her, forcing her onto her back. “Make sure you were dripping wet and desperate to come. But I wouldn’t let you.”
Her mouth was open, a look of open shock on her face, her blush fire red.
“I like a woman to beg and I’d make you beg for me, Zoe,” he went on relentlessly, because giving her a glimpse of the kind of man he was, the kind of man he’d been hiding from her, was the only way to make her understand. “I’d make you beg for my cock and if you were a very good girl, I would fuck you with it. If you were a very bad girl, I’d make you suck it instead.” He paused, staring down at her, holding her there with the sheer force of his gaze. “Think you can handle that?”
She said nothing, staring up at him as if she’d never seen him before in her life.
It hit him then, like a blow to the head, that he basically had her on her back, right underneath him. That he could smell the sweet lavender scent of her, tinged with feminine musk, and feel the warmth of her slender body. That the hard tips of her nipples were almost brushing his chest, and the pulse at the base of her throat was racing.
That he wanted to put his mouth over it.
A kick of desire punched right through him, stealing his breath.
All those things you told her, you actually wanted to do them to her.
He couldn’t move. For some reason he was caught there, holding himself above her, looking down into her familiar, delicate face, watching the ebb and flow of color in her cheeks, the shock and confusion in her golden eyes.
This is Zoe. She’s your foster sister. And you can’t do any of those things to her.
No, he couldn’t. So why the fuck was he hard?
“Gideon?” Zoe said hoarsely.
He shoved himself off the bed with a sharp movement, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, his stupid dick like iron in his jeans.
What a fucking dumb idea that had been. He’d only wanted to put her off, scare her. He hadn’t wanted to be turned on by it. Christ. Clearly, all those mornings spent jacking off in the shower weren’t enough. He needed an actual woman, not his own palm.
He turned toward the door. “I wouldn’t tell the others, if I were you,” he said, unable to keep the harsh note from his voice. “And you won’t be leaving this apartment again, not without me.”
There was a silence behind him.
“If you try and keep me here, I’ll call the police.” Her voice sounded as thick as his, but there was no hiding the stubborn anger in it.
“They know me, Zoe. That won’t work.” And it wouldn’t. He’d gone to some lengths to keep the chief sweet, make sure they were on his side. They kept a lookout for anyone who might be a threat to him, while he passed on any info that they might need to keep the place safe. It was an understanding that worked very well for all concerned.
She made a soft, frustrated noise. “Okay, look, give me one thing and I promise I’ll stay here. That I won’t give you any grief.”
His inconvenient hard-on fading, he swung around. “What do you want?”
She was sitting back up again, her arms folded over her tits, hiding those pretty little nipples. Which was probably a good thing. “Take me to Anonymous.”
“Why?”
“You won’t let me get a different job and you won’t let me go to college. You want me to stay inside for God knows how long.... The least you can do is help me get laid.”
The words made him feel like someone had taken a defibrillator and applied it directly to his chest. “Jesus, Zoe. I’m not—”
“Yes, you fucking will,” she interrupted fiercely. “I have never asked you for anything. Not one single thing. You can damn well give me this.”
Anger hooked into the remains of the desire still pulsing inside him, and he had no patience left with which to fight it. “If you think I’m taking you to that fucking nightclub and leaving you there for some asshole to pick up, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not asking you for that.” There was a familiar, determined light in her eyes. “You can help me choose the guy, vet him for me. And then, I’ll bring him back here and—”
“Oh, fuck no.”
“If you don’t do this then I’m leaving.” A thin thread of hurt wound through her voice. “And I won’t ever come back.”
She meant it, he could see that. She meant every word.
Of course, he could lock her in, tie her up. Watch her twenty-four
seven. But he had a suspicion that would break something fundamental between them. A trust they’d always had.
He’d already put a crack in it with that performance he’d given just now. Could he really break it entirely?
Stupid question. Of course he couldn’t.
But her life is at stake.
However, there were other ways to skin a cat. Such as doing something he almost never did. Compromise.
He dredged up a last shard of patience. “You’re seriously asking me to me to find you a guy to take home?”
“Yes.”
A baser, more primitive instinct inside him growled at the thought of anyone else touching what was his. But no, he was a different man now and anyway, Zoe wasn’t his. Going out to Anonymous with her wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do, not when Novak was hanging around, possibly searching for her. Then again, at least if he was with her, he could keep the chances of her being discovered low. And hell, if it meant she’d stop all this rebellion crap and do as she was told, then wouldn’t it be worth it?
“Okay,” he said flatly. “I’ll find you someone.”
Then he turned around and left before he could change his mind.
Chapter 5
Zoe sat on the comfortable, old, blue velvet couch in the living room and reached for the stretchy red dress that sat on top of the pile of clothing Rachel had brought for her. “What about this one?”
Rachel, sitting at the other end of the couch, frowned at the dress. “Sorry, but you might need more tits for that one.”
Zoe looked down at her admittedly not very well endowed chest and wrinkled her nose. “Good point. Would a push-up bra work?”
“It could. But I’d go for something more like this.” Rachel held up a narrow band of leather.
Zoe blinked at it. “Is that a . . . skirt?”
“Yeah. You could wear it with . . .” She reached out and unearthed something else from the clothing pile. “How about this?”
It was a simple top made out of black lace. Zoe was vaguely disappointed. She’d asked Rachel that morning to come around with a selection of clothes that would be good for looking hot in a club, because God knew, she didn’t have any. Rachel had duly brought some with her, but Zoe had been expecting something eye-poppingly sexy, not a plain leather skirt and lace top.
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