Old Man's Ride: Dust Bowl Devils MC (10 page)

“I can be good,” she said, squirming beneath the gaze, clamping her legs tight against the moisture gathering there.

He took a loose lock of her hair between two fingers, twirled it around. She imagined those hands elsewhere on her, how warm, how encompassing they would be, and her mouth went dry. She licked her lips, and he smirked.

“No,” he said, and released the hair. “I don’t believe you. Girls like you only learn from punishment.”

Punishment? What on earth was he talking about? Did it mean he would touch her? She abandoned all worries about what the other girls or Leonard or anyone else would think if they found out she'd come alone to Arthur's wagon. It made no difference if they found out what was happening, though she didn't know what it was herself. All she wanted was whatever Arthur wanted in that moment. And to have his hands on her.

“What did you have in mind?” It came out like a squeak. That sort of question suggested acquiescence. A small grin touched just the corners of his mouth.

“Go to the back. Put your hands and elbows on the table.”

She obeyed without hesitation, though her mind race. Did this mean he was going to fuck her? It seemed pretty sudden. They hadn’t even kissed just once. Despite her brain’s objections, her body followed the instructions with alarming haste. She had to shove a few books aside, which in turn knocked more books off the table, but Arthur didn’t comment. She positioned herself over the desk as he’d demanded, and waited in silence.

Crack! His hand came down on her ass. She yelped in surprise. The impact shocked her more than it hurt, though her backside heated where he’d struck. A part of her wanted to turn and snarl at him, scream at him or hit him back, but something held her hands firmly on the table. Something bowed her head and raised her ass, ready for the next assault. He’d awakened something unknown, something a little scary deep inside her that she’d always buried, ignored.