by Jane Henry
He frowned, pulling her along with him. “You locked your keys in the goddamned car,” he said. “There’s no way of getting them out without drawing suspicion and causing a scene.” He growled. “I oughta spank your ass for that alone.”
God, there he goes again, she thought, ignoring the pulsing between her legs and clenching of her belly and the hitch in her breathing. She should have been pissed at his threats.
His jaw clenched and his grip tightened as he brought her to a sedate looking two-story Cape-style house with a porch swing in the front, a white picket fence surrounding it, and vibrant orange marigolds in a small flower bed in the front yard. It looked so… normal.
He lived here?
“Get inside and don’t say a word,” he said, releasing her arm and unlocking the front door. He opened it, gestured for her to go in, and when she merely blinked at him, he swung his arm and smacked her ass, hard. “Now.”
Afraid he’d make good on his threat right here on the front porch, she trotted inside, her head swimming with anger, her body teeming with arousal… the way she always felt when in the presence of Diego Santiago.
Chapter 3
Diego slammed the solid wood door behind him and took grim satisfaction in the way Nora jumped at the sound, spun around, and huddled against the staircase bannister across from the front door. His heart was still beating rapidly and fury was gnawing a hole in his gut. What had the woman been thinking, approaching the warehouse? Putting herself in danger like that?
“Oh, now you’re jumpy?” he demanded. “Well, thank fuck for that. I’d thought maybe you’d locked your fucking common sense in the car along with your keys.”
Nora sniffed and clasped her hands at her waist. “I’m not jumpy. And I have plenty of common sense.” Her voice quavered at the end, showing that she recognized the first half of her statement, at least, as a lie.
“Yeah? The same common sense that led you to a warehouse by the wharf in one of the roughest areas of Boston? To a warehouse that you knew was the headquarters of Chalo Salazar’s enterprise? I can’t imagine what other great ideas you might come up with. You need a fucking keeper.”
He threw his keys into a small bowl on the hall table and leaned back against the front door, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her reaction. The motion made his bruised knuckles ache, but the pain hardly registered, he was so focused on the woman in front of him.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the way she squirmed beneath his gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips while her eyes darted from his biceps to his boots and back again. She was nearly shivering in the cool air, her thin sweater and skirt doing little to combat the chill inside the house, and he inhaled deeply at the sight, smelling the faint tang of the lemon polish that the house cleaners always used.
What the hell was he going to do with this woman?
That thought was quickly followed by another, even more troubling: Why had he brought her here of all places, to the house that had been his mother’s? In truth, he wasn’t behaving any more responsibly than Nora was tonight.
He couldn’t think of anyone who even knew this house belonged to him, except maybe Slay, given that the annoying bastard knew everything. Though Diego kept the utilities on and the furniture just as it had been before his Mamá passed away, this was not the place where he crashed every night. He had a small efficiency apartment by the warehouse that suited that purpose. Instead, this house was his refuge, a place to commune with his ghosts and remember a time when the lines between good and evil, right and wrong, had been crystal clear. It was a place he came alone, on the rare occasions he visited, and he hadn’t come at all for months. Yet, when he’d realized he needed to get Nora to safety tonight, it had been instinctive for him to bring her here. And even now, with anger and frustration still riding him, he couldn’t deny that seeing her here, in his house, soothed something primal inside him.
“You have two seconds to explain exactly what the hell you hoped to learn at the warehouse tonight. And while you’re at it, I’d also like your sincere promise that you will never even contemplate stepping back into that neighborhood.”
She looked at him warily and didn’t speak, but his pulse kicked up as though she’d thrown down a gauntlet.
“No response, Norita?” he said. His voice was gruff as he challenged her. “Just gonna stand there?”
Her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed. “I was afraid to speak, lest you decide to… to make good on your threat.”
He felt his mouth twitch. “My threat?”
“To… to spank my ass,” she spat, standing up straight and raising her chin defiantly. “Like a Neanderthal.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He shook his head in mock sadness and continued in a silky voice, “That wasn’t a threat. That was a promise.” Her eyes widened with a combination of lust and anger, and his cock twitched. “Now answer my fucking questions.”
She swallowed. “I already told you why I was there. I want answers.”
“Because a little girl drew a picture of me,” he said, repeating her words from earlier and injecting a heavy note of skepticism. “Some kid draws a smiley face or whatever, and you say ‘Well, shit! That face has two eyes and a nose, just like Diego! Let me trot on down to the fucking warehouse, since clearly he keeps tabs on every kid in Boston! That’s the smart, responsible choice.’”
“No! The girl—Camila—she’s crazy talented. This was a picture of you. I-I know it.” She stared at him defiantly, as though she expected him to deny it again and was ready to argue her case all night. He was shocked to find that his cock swelled behind the zipper of his jeans. Christ. What was it about this woman?
He took a step forward across the small space, crowding her against the bannister again, consciously intimidating her, since clearly she wasn’t understanding his point. She smelled like grapefruit, and he willed himself not to notice how delicious the scent was. “I thought you said she drew a picture of someone who made her feel safe.”
Nora nodded, and he smirked. “And am I the kind of man who makes you feel safe, baby?”
He almost laughed at the shock on her face, at the “no” that clearly wanted to spring to her lips. But at the last moment, he realized he didn’t want to hear the denial. He was a dangerous man, and he was glad she recognized that, but he never wanted her to think he was a danger to her. “So how about you just promise me that you’ll drop this bullshit, and stay the fuck away from that warehouse?”
She sucked in a breath, and he waited for her agreement. Then you’ll take her home, he vowed to himself. Where she’s safe. And you’ll call Slay and explain this epic clusterfuck and get him to make sure she keeps her promise.
But when she glanced up at him, her eyes sparked with the intelligence and challenge that drove him crazy. “No.”
Diego grit his teeth to keep his mouth from falling open. Was she playing with him? Did she have no sense of self-preservation?
He lifted one hand and wrapped his fingers loosely around the base of her throat. It was a move of blatant ownership and power, designed to make her tremble and rethink her hasty response, but the tremor that rocked her as his rough fingers stroked her skin wasn’t one of fear, but anticipation and… Jesus. Arousal. And that look was what had him spinning her around with his hand on her hip until her fingers were gripping the stair rail. That look was what had him bending down to whisper in her ear, “Did you think I was joking, mamita?”
She shook her head minutely.
“Good. I fucking hope not. Because if there is one thing I have always taken seriously, it is your safety. Do you understand me?”
She was panting, and her hands spread out against the smooth wood, but she didn’t answer. He reared back his hand and then brought the palm of his uninjured hand down flat against her skirt-covered ass.
“Oh!” she gasped, a sound of surprise rather than pain.
He had to fight to keep the lust that clogged his throat
from sounding in his voice when he growled, “No more questions. No more sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Do you understand? It’s not safe.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her big brown eyes closer to his own than they’d been in years—or maybe ever. “I’m not dropping it. And you… you can’t bully me into dropping it. I have a responsibility to the women at Centered, a responsibility to Camila, and…”
He cut her off with another firm smack to her ass. “I don’t give a shit about what you think your responsibilities are! You need to keep yourself safe. You have no idea what you’re dealing with. And I swear to you, I’m not letting you go until you get this.”
“You’re going to, what? Hold me hostage? Spank me into agreeing?” she demanded breathlessly. And the way her voice hitched told him that she was not nearly as averse to this idea as she should be. Fuck.
Was he going to go through with this? Though it had started as a threat to gain her compliance, one look at the defiant, hopeful spark in her eyes made the decision surprisingly easy, and his internal vow to let her go evaporated like mist. Hell yes, he was.
He grabbed her long hair and wrapped it tightly around his injured hand, forcing her to stand straight. “If that’s what I have to do? Then, yes. You need some sense spanked into you. Someone should have done this a long time ago, mamita.”
He pulled her away from the wall with his hand in her hair, not harshly, but firmly, and forced her to walk ahead of him into the cozy living room to the left of the door. “Fortunately,” he whispered, as he guided her towards the big leather sofa, “I’m more than up to the task.”
He sat on the edge of the sofa and grabbed both of her hands, forcing her off-balance so that she landed over his lap gracelessly with a loud squawk.
“I’m not agreeing to anything!” she declared, as he tucked both of her hands firmly at the base of her spine and held them there. “You have no right to spank me. You’re not my dominant, you’re not my daddy, you’re…”
He stopped her squirming with another firm swat to her ass from his uninjured hand, but he couldn’t help but notice the way her skirt had ridden up as she struggled, giving him a clear view of her silky blue panties. He took a deep breath as a bolt of lust speared through him, and he delivered three more stinging swats in quick succession.
Those swats seemed to subdue her, to make her aware of the precariousness of her position for the first time. “Let me go, Diego!” she insisted. “This isn’t funny anymore!”
“Funny? Fuck, honey. This hasn’t been funny from the first minute that you rolled into my neighborhood. You came alone, into the most dangerous neighborhood in Boston, to demand answers from a criminal, and locked your keys in your car. You don’t have the sense you were born with, and you’re lucky this is the worst that happened! You need a daddy to protect you.”
He spanked her again through the silk of her panties, peppering her ass and the tops of her thighs with firm blows. The skin of his palm was tingling, and even in the low light spilling from the entryway, he could see that the flesh on the top of her thighs was turning pink.
“You could have been killed. If anyone had seen you, you would have been. The men in my crew don’t take too kindly to nosy girls.” He spanked her again, struggling to keep control of his temper as the possibilities that might have befallen her raced through his mind.
“If any of my men had turned around? If I hadn’t been making rounds of the warehouse myself, but had asked somebody else to do it? They would have caught you before I could save you, and do you know what would have happened?” He knew. He knew that if Ricky or any of the others had seen her, they’d never have kept their hands off her. And then Diego wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him, to kill them all.
“Stop!” she demanded. “Diego! For fuck’s sake stop!” But he wouldn’t. Not until she understood.
“I’m not Diego right now, baby. I’m not the guy you demand answers from, and whose motives you question. Right now, in this room, I’m your keeper. I’m your goddamn daddy. So you’d better be a good little girl and get what I’m telling you right now—understand it in every part of you. You will not endanger yourself on my watch!”
Slap after slap, painful enough to sting but not to really hurt her, landed on her round ass as she writhed against him, and despite the fear that clutched at him, his dick was painfully hard and an insidious voice inside his head told him that the only way to save her, to protect her, was to claim her as his own. Be her daddy. Make her your girl.
His hand came to rest against the upper part of her ass, feeling the warmth of her reddened flesh through the thin material of her skirt as he kneaded her soft curves. “Do you trust me to keep you safe, baby? Tell Daddy.”
She leaned against his leg, gasping for breath, and didn’t answer right away. For a moment, he doubted himself. Maybe bringing her here had been the worst possible choice. If she wouldn’t trust him, she’d never believe that this punishment had been aimed at forcing her to recognize the seriousness of her actions, and she’d only become more stubborn.
But a moment later, her gasps turned to quiet sobs, and she croaked, “Yes. Yes, I do. I don’t know why, but I trust you… Daddy.”
Diego sucked in a breath and shut his eyes against the rush of pleasure that swamped him. Daddy. God, that was so not his kink… or at least it never had been. But now, hearing it from her? He didn’t know how he’d gone so long without it.
He didn’t deserve her trust—if the woman only knew half the things he’d said and done over the years, she’d run screaming. And he knew that what little she did know had always made her question his motives. But there was a ring of truth in her voice that he couldn’t deny. She trusted him here and now. And since she did, maybe he wasn’t an entirely lost cause after all.
Wetness against his leg had him releasing her hands and hauling her up to sit across his lap with her head against his chest.
“Hush, baby,” he said, running his hands down her hair and over her light sweater. “Hush, my good girl.”
But she only sobbed harder, like a dam somewhere inside her had broken, and buried her face against his neck.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was impulsive and stupid. The minute I got there, I realized I was totally in over my head, but then you were there and I… I couldn’t admit it,” she hiccupped softly.
He understood that feeling only too well, but he needed to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. Not to her. “Your first priority, Nora, in every single thing you do, every single day, must be your own safety. You’re devoted to your job, to your family, to your friends, and so many people love you and want to keep you safe. But ultimately, the only person who can do that is you, understand?”
Her chin bumped his shoulder as she nodded, but her tears didn’t abate. He grasped her neck and pulled her back slightly, reaching over to flick on the nearby lamp so he could see her face.
He carefully brushed her tangled, damp hair away from her flushed cheeks. “It’s all done now, honey. You took your spanking like such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”
Her sobs mingled with laughter. “God, why does that sound so good?” she wondered with a groan. “I swear, I always thought the daddy thing was a little odd, but when you talk to me like that… it does something to my belly. Like I want to be all vulnerable and let you protect me.”
His breath caught at the confusion and trust that mingled in her wide eyes. “I want to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” he told her, carding his fingers through her hair and inhaling the citrusy fragrance.
“I believe you,” she said simply. And then she shocked the shit out of him by leaning forward and touching her lips gently to his.
Madre de Dios, had anything ever felt so good? Her lips were soft and cool against his, cleansing and nourishing him, and without conscious decision, he opened his mouth beneath hers, wanting to draw her closer. He’d given up hope years ago that th
is would ever happen, but as he gripped her blonde hair and tasted the salt of her tears in her kiss, he recognized that it had been inevitable.
His free hand wrapped around her back, pulling her chest more firmly against his, and she twisted until she could bring one leg over his lap to straddle him. Her skirt rode up all the way to her hips as she settled her sweet ass directly above the erection that was trying to poke its way out of his jeans. Fuck.
Mine, his brain chanted on constant repeat. Finally mine.
His hand coasted up her side and his thumb teased the underside of her breast. He swallowed her gasp and felt her nipple bead as he stroked her lightly. His lips broke from hers and moved to explore her jaw, alternately licking and sucking against her neck as she writhed against him, torturing them both.
He grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up and over her head in one smooth movement, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. He disposed of her lacy bra in exactly the same fashion, hardly noticing the sexiness of the garment in his quest to bare her—all of her, every inch of her luscious skin—to his gaze. He flipped them so her back was against the seat cushions, then knelt beside her, pulling her skirt and panties down with the same hurried determination.
But when she was splayed out naked before him, time seemed to stop, and he sat back on his heels, staring at the vision before him. God, she was beautiful.
She was pale and perfect, from her rosy-tipped breasts to the small patch of blonde hair above her pussy. He could feel her eyes on his as his gaze tracked a path from her shapely legs, over the curve of her hips and belly, to her face. She bit her lip and moved her hand to cover herself, but he stopped her with a firm grip on her wrist. There was not a single thing about her that wasn’t stunning, and he knew his voice was nearly drunk with desire when he whispered, “You’re perfect, baby. Let me look at you.” Let me figure out which part of you to worship first.
He couldn’t keep himself from bending forward and capturing one taut nipple between his lips, then tormenting the stiff flesh with his tongue while his fingers sought her other nipple. Despite the hunger he’d felt for her all these years, he’d never allowed himself to fantasize about this happening. He’d never allowed himself to imagine what she’d look like splayed out before him, how sweet she would taste, or how her breathless moans and gasps would drive him wild.
