Page 14 of Her Bad Boy

Yam sitting, mister!

Good. When the waiter comes by, order a coffee and a water. Drink them both and wait for me right there. Sit there quietly. Don't leave. Don't even move.

Not the bossa me

Well, I think we're going to have to work on that. Do as you are told, young lady. I'll be there shortly.

He received several other texts from her, most of them quite defiant, one of them with a picture attached that he thought might have been her boobs, but it was so out of focus that he couldn't really tell. He responded to some of them so that she would know he was still on his way and to try to keep track of her long distance.

Still sitting?

She sent him an angry emoji like a petulant child.

Answer me, little one.

YESSSSSSSSSSS

Did you order what I told you to?

The next text was a picture of a large glass of ice water and a cup of coffee.

Good girl. Drink up.

NOT A GOOD GIRL

As if he wasn't already rock hard at the mere idea of seeing her, that emphatic statement ratcheted things up several notches for him.

You're not, hmmm?

Not anymore.

Well, that's too bad. Good girls get treats, he replied.

Her next response had him nearly flooring his car.

& bad girls get spanked—whats ur point

When he finally got there, he double parked outside, ran into the bar, threw some money on the table to cover any tab that was left, scooping her up into his arms and squeezing her into his small, non-descript car.

She was dressed in the same prim and proper manner as usual, so her new "leaf" hadn't extended to that, and he wasn't sure whether he was happy about that or not. He liked the idea of seeing her looking a lot less buttoned down, but he wasn't at all excited about the idea of anyone else seeing her that way.

But she was definitely a bit polluted—there was absolutely no mistaking that, especially when she leaned her head on his shoulder while he was driving.

He was busy shifting and battling Friday night traffic, but he was dying to touch her when she had gotten so close to him voluntarily.

"Feeling sleepy?" he asked, looking down at that golden blonde head of hers. Her hair was down when it was usually raked ruthlessly into a nice neat bun, and he adored it. It was just a bit past shoulder length and wavy, and his imagination was tormenting him with thoughts of just how soft and silky it was and how that might feel trailing over very sensitive parts of his anatomy.

But then he nearly ran into the back of a car that was stopped at a light, and he forced himself back to reality, taking the opportunity to arrange her in an upright position in her own seat, all while his zipper made an indelible imprint on the underside of his cock and he cursed himself roundly for going commando.

Chapter 5

Once he got her back to his place, he put her on his couch and gave her a large glass of water, telling her sternly—for the fiftieth time that evening—to drink. "Since you didn't obey me and drink what you'd ordered at the restaurant," he chided.

Another order which she promptly ignored. Instead, Allie frowned, standing up, if a bit unsteadily. "I tole' you. Not a good girl anymore."

He couldn't help but be amused at her statement. "Honey, you are the anal-retentive poster child for good girls. I've heard tell about the famous fifteen-minute rule from your partner in wiping out crime, Mr. Bloomer, who is not fond of it in the least."

"I can still be bad and care about punctuality," she groused. "He's mad because I left for court without him one time because he was late." She downright snickered.

---