Page 5

F uck, she’s gorgeous when she’s afraid.

I know it makes me a monster to think it, and an even bigger one for getting so fucking hard when her eyes widen like this. Her mouth drops open, and I can practically smell the panic rolling off her.

“You don’t know that’s yours,” she tries to deny me my victory.

I drop the bag of peas back into the freezer and shut the door, pocketing the drive to keep it safe.

“My car dropped you off at ten fourteen.” I move in her direction. “I’ve had four hours to find out everything I need to know about you, Megan Reed. Twenty-five-year-old administrative assistant to Carl Swinkler at Cinders Industries. Not some little college girl rushing Delta Omega Phi, a sorority that doesn’t exist.”

Her throat works when she swallows hard as I get closer to her. The nightshirt she’s wearing is too big. The neckline dips enough in the front; the swell of her breasts show.

“Oh.” The word pops out so softly, I’m not sure she meant it to.

“After you went to sleep two hours ago, it gave me plenty of time to search your apartment. I even had time to watch you sleep. Do you know you grind your teeth? You should probably wear some sort of mouth guard for that.”

Her cheeks flush, just a little. A dusting of pink brushes her cheeks, enough for me to know she’s thinking about what else I might have seen while I was lurking in the shadows.

I’d been too late for her playtime with the bullet vibe in her nightstand, but she can keep wondering if I was here or not.

“I’m going to give you a chance to tell me why you wanted the drive. And then I’m going to take you back to your bedroom, put you on your hands and knees, and punish you until you beg me to stop. And then.” I stop just in front of her. “I’m going to start all over again.”

She blanches.

“I’ll scream,” she threatens.

“I’m looking forward to it.” I nod.

“The people upstairs will hear.” She backs up a step. Catching her in this shoebox of an apartment won’t be hard.

“They’re on vacation,” I say with a tilt to my head. “Don’t you talk to your neighbors? The drunk across the hall is probably passed out by now. And I doubt any of the other people in the building will care if they hear you.”

This entire building is probably on some FBI watch list. The criminals that live here won’t lift a finger to help her, and the other tenants are smart enough to stay out of business that isn’t theirs.

She can’t believe she lives in a safe neighborhood. She sleeps with a dull butcher knife next to her vibrator.

She should have a better weapon. Something with actual power behind it that she can utilize without getting close to the attacker.

“So, here’s your chance, Megan.” I like saying her name. It feels good on my tongue. “Tell me why you wanted the drive.”

“It must be really important for you to be here in the middle of the night.” She retreats another step, then another, until the back of her legs hit the couch.

“Why did you come looking for the drive on Dexter Thompson? How do you know him?” I advance on her, soaking in the way her pupils dilate as I get closer.

Those pretty blue eyes of hers flick to the right, looking for a way of escape.

Fuck me, I hope she runs.

“You’re going to tell me all of your little secrets, Megan Reed.” I capture her face in one hand, pinching her cheeks inward until I feel her teeth through her flesh.

The leather makes it harder to get a feel of her skin, but her eyes tell me everything when they go wide. Her pupils all but eviscerate her blue irises.

“I don’t have any secrets.” Her words squeeze out from my grip.

“Such a little liar.” I lower my face to hers, inhaling the sweetness that she is. “Don’t worry, I know how to deal with little liars like you.”

With my free hand, I unbuckle my belt and yank it from my pants.

Her entire body goes stiff.

“I was going to put you on your knees, but I think this couch will do fine.” Releasing her face, I spin her around and push her over the back to the couch.

She’s short, so her feet barely touch the hard wood of the floor. For such a shitty building, the floors in the main rooms are actually nice.

As soon as her face hits the cushion, she screams.

She wiggles her arms in front of her and tries to shove off the couch, but there’s no escape for her. Not now.

“You had your chance.” I push up her nightshirt and find she’s wearing a pair of white cotton panties. She’s changed out of the black pair she wore earlier.

If her innocence shines through anymore, I might mess my own fucking pants.

“Stop! Stop!” she yells as I pull the elastic of her panties upward until they bunch between her ass cheeks. A wedgie never feels good but couple it with a belting and it’s really going to piss her off.

I take a moment to lean over her body, making sure to press my erection against her ass so she knows how happy her discomfort is making me.

“I told you, no mercy,” I whisper in her ear.

“Please. Don’t.” She tries again to get up, but I fist her hair and shove her farther into the couch cushion. Her screams are soaked into the foam of the cushions.

I manage to double over my belt and tuck the buckle into my palm, then take aim at her pretty ass.

She howls after the first lash, kicks and cries as I continue to lash her ass until even in the dimness of the room, I can make out the markings being left by the thick leather.

“Little liar,” I mutter as I bring my belt down on her thighs.

She kicks her legs out, but it’s no matter. This isn’t my first session with a naughty girl.

Her shoulders shake and her sobs are soft when I finally stop the punishment. Laying the belt across her back, I move my attention to her panties.

Using the tip of my middle finger, I run it along the seam of her ass, then farther down. Following the material of her panties, I slide between her thighs, to where her panties have become soaked with her arousal.

She moans, but I can’t tell if it’s due to embarrassment or her libido. And there’s a difference. A woman’s humiliation can be as much of an aphrodisiac as any little blue pill.

“You’ve soaked your panties.” I try to sound admonishing, but I’m not at all upset.

I trail my finger farther down until I find her clit, hard and eager to be touched.

This time, her moan is all arousal.

“Not yet. You haven’t earned it.” I press down on her clit, rubbing it in circles until I’m sure she’s starting to ignore the pain in her ass for the pleasure of her pussy.

And then I stop.

“Fuck,” she groans.

“Do you think you can be honest with me now?” I ask the back of her head. I wait for the little nod, then help her to her feet.

As soon as her feet are on the floor, she spins around and spits at me. I barely manage to dodge the assault. She needs to get better about her attacks if she’s going to keep this up.

“You got what you came for. Just leave.” She digs the heels of her hands across her cheeks, wiping away tears.

Shame. I didn’t get a chance to enjoy them before she wiped them off.

“You’re not going to tell me why you took it?”

Game time is over. It’s nearly three in the morning and I have shit to do tomorrow. If she’s not going to cooperate, I have no other choice.

Her gaze doesn’t meet mine. She’s looking everywhere else, my chin, my chest, my ear, but she won’t meet my gaze.

“I can’t.” She sounds tired. Like she’s had enough of this, too. “You have it back. Just go.”

As I stare at her, I notice her nipples pressing against the nightshirt.

If she’d stolen something useless, like an embossing press with the club logo on it, I could walk out right now and ignore this whole thing. I could go home, wrap my hand around my cock, and play this scene over in my head until I unleashed my climax.

But she hadn’t.

She stole Dexter Thompson’s flash drive.

And that can’t be ignored.

My decision made, I give her a curt nod.

No going back now.

For the second time tonight, I spin her around until her back is to me.

“What are you doing?!” She squirms as I pull her arms behind her. With one hand, I hold her wrists together as I work the zip ties out of my back pocket.

“Enough.” I jerk her back toward me when she keeps wiggling.

“Ow! No. That hurts!” She tries to wrench her wrists apart, but I have one zip tie already on. I’m sure it does fucking hurt; that plastic is going to cut into her skin if she keeps this fight up.

I put the second one on, then spin her back to face me.

She brings her head back, like she’s going to try and headbutt me.

I only sigh, then bend over and throw my shoulder into her stomach.

There’s a groan when I have her hoisted up.

“No! No!” She kicks and I wish I had brought the straps for her legs. But I hadn’t thought things would get this far.

She should have been scared enough to spill the truth by now.

Carrying her around makes me move a little slower, but I manage to grab a few things, then head out the door, locking it once we’re outside.

“Help! Help!” She’s doing her best, but really, it’s the middle of the night and no one’s coming to help her in this place.

She groans more when I jog down the flight of stairs. I parked in front of the building, so it’s not a far distance.

The trunk pops as soon as I get close enough.

“Boss?” Yogi steps up to the car.

“I have it from here,” I assure him. “But go inside and make sure there’s no lingering issues.”

“Not a problem.”

I dump her into the trunk. Thankfully, she’s too stunned at first to do much other than shake her hair away from her face.

I don’t have any more time to spend on her yelling and threats, so I start to close the trunk.

“Wait!”

I pause. She looks surprised, like she didn’t think it would work.

“You had your chance, Megan. Remember that. I gave you every chance.”

“Please!”

The trunk slams on her cry.

Once inside the car, I turn the music on to cover any noise she’s making back there.

Pulling away from her shit apartment building, I head back to my part of town.

We have a place for people like her. For those who cross us.

And she’s going to hate it.