“We’ll put panties on our shopping list,” he says calmly before spanking me three times. “Although I’m tempted not to.”
I crane my neck to look up at him. He’s trying hard to keep a serious expression on his face. “Stop it. I mean it. And this is in no way funny.” My face feels hot.
“It’s funny from my vantage point.” He raises his hand to smack again and I squeeze everything tight, my eyes, my fists, my butt.
“What do you want from me?” I call out as I process the sting.
“Well, I’d like to turn your pretty little ass bright red for starters.”
“You’re a fucking Neanderthal.” I try to kick, but it does no good.
“And you have a very nice ass, Scarlett.”
“Fuck off.”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“No?” He smacks again and tears sting my eyes. Then he starts rubbing my butt in lazy circles and my wires must cross because all I should feel is pain. Pain and humiliation and brutal injustice. But his hand on me right now, him holding me like he is, that’s not all I feel.
“Look at me,” he repeats.
I do, a tear sliding down the side of my face.
“What did you think you’d do with a nail file strapped to your thigh like you’re some warrior woman?”
“What do you expect me to do? Not fight? Not try to defend myself? I was twelve when I started fighting. I don’t know any other way to be. Don’t expect me to roll over for you in a day. It’s not how I’m wired. I know I’m not a warrior woman. I know you’re stronger than me and that you’ll probably beat me every time, but I have to try.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Scarlett.”
“Yeah right, that’s obvious. I fucking hate you.”
He shakes his head and raises his arm.
I struggle, wriggle to get free, and that’s when I feel him. Feel his hardness against me. He’s aroused.
He’s fucking aroused.
And I have no idea what the fuck is happening here in the backseat of this SUV but it’s not what should be happening. It’s not me hating him.
I don’t speak. I don’t even breathe. Looking straight ahead at the door handle, I just feel his length and don’t move. I clench my butt cheeks and my fists and try not to panic because it could be worse than a spanking. He could do so much worse and no one would help me.
“Scarlett?”
I think he’s been saying something but all I hear is my name. I don’t answer. I can’t.
“Hey,” he says, leaning his face down a little.
I shake my head, trying to muffle a sniffle.
“Christ,” he mutters and in the next moment, he frees my legs, and hauls me upright. He lifts me onto his lap, keeping my wrists trapped behind me.
I lean my face down to wipe away tears on his shirt. Stupid fucking tears.
Fuck.
He just spanked me. He just saw my bare ass, spanked it and he got hard doing it. He’s still hard and I can’t even begin to process what I’m feeling.
I wipe my nose on his shoulder too because he deserves it. “Let me go,” I say, not looking at him. It’s not fully out of embarrassment either. I don’t want him to see the confusion in my eyes because he seems to read me like a book.
He cups my face, which I’m sure is as red as my butt, forcing my gaze to his, then wipes a tear with his thumb. “I don’t want to hurt you, Scarlett.”
“You liked doing it. You got hard doing it.” I twist, but it’s no use.
“I’m a man.”
I snort.
“Listen to me and I’ll let you go,” he says quietly, no laughter in his tone.
“Why should I?”
“Because you need to know that I mean it. That I don’t want to hurt you.”
“My butt will disagree.”
He smiles and it’s not a nasty smirk or like he’s laughing at me. It’s almost a boyish one. “If I really wanted to hurt you, you’d be down in one of those cells right now or worse. And as stubborn as you are, you’re smart enough to know that’s true.”
I swallow, twisting my arms but still he doesn’t budge.
“You have enemies, Scarlett. You and Noah both.”
“I know. I’m sitting with one.”
“I mean enemies who will do real damage. You know this. Tell me you know this.”
I can’t deny it, but I don’t want to confirm it either, so I grit my teeth and stay silent.
“I’m not going to hurt you or Noah as long as you don’t give me cause to.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s simple.” His expression goes dead serious. “It means don’t betray me.”
“You’d have to have someone’s trust to betray them. You and I do not have each other’s trust.”
“Not yet. But I’m a pretty good judge of character and I hope you’ll be trustworthy.”
I snort.
“Will you? Because I can name at least two men who’d love to get their hands on you. If they did, it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“So what? You’re helping me? Is that what you want me to believe? Maybe I should be grateful to you?”
“This is serious.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think watching my brothers executed didn’t clue me in?”
He squeezes my wrists. “You are so god damned stubborn.” He shakes his head, looks away momentarily. “I’m helping me and if in the process that helps you then so be it. I have vowed to avenge my family’s murders. My mother’s assault. And even given your name, I don’t believe you or your brother should be punished.”
“Well, thanks. It’s big of you to acknowledge since I was twelve and he was five at the time.”
“Christ—”
“If we shouldn’t be punished then why not let us go?”
“I can’t. And you don’t want me to. You know what’s waiting for you out there. You’re safest under my protection.”
“I’m not safe and neither is my brother.”
“Not on your own. You’re right about that.” He’s dead serious and the way he looks at me, it’s unnerving. I almost can’t keep eye contact because he’s really looking at me. Seeing something inside me. “Are you all right, Scarlett?”
“Apart from enduring this latest humiliation, I’ll be fine.”
He lets go of my wrists and slides me to the bench before strapping me in.
“I’m not in agreement about Noah. I’m just not,” I say.
“Then you need to find a way to accept it. There is no alternative.”
I turn my gaze out the window because I’m crying again. Stupid. I don’t even know why. I should just be angry. I should just want to claw his eyes out.
“Do you need a minute?”
I shrug a shoulder, refusing to look at him. I’m unable to speak because my throat has closed up and I know if I open my mouth, I’ll just sob, and I can’t do that. Not now. Not in front of him. And I’m relieved when, without another word, he knocks on the window signaling the driver who gets in behind the wheel. We head off to wherever it is we’re going.