Page 18 of Her Bad Boy

When she was nearly asleep, and so was he, he pulled them up the bed, then tucked the two of them in beneath the covers.

"Good girl. You took your spanking and your fucking well."

She was too sleepy to protest too much, but she did huff a bit at his praise.

"Sleep while you can," he whispered. "Round two in a few minutes."

Chapter 6

Three months later, Lucas was behind his desk, supposedly working, but he was having one of the least productive days of his life.

All he could think about was her and their altogether too brief encounters—from his Galahad impression with the tire and her later upset about the idea that he might spank her—which, granted, he shouldn't have even come close to introducing until he knew her better. It was his bad, all the way.

To her trying to change herself—for what reason he had no clue—he would never have asked her to do that for him. He was endlessly intrigued with her as she was—and drunk texting him from a bar—something which he would never have expected of her, not that he was objecting, of course. And he was certainly glad that it was him she'd contacted and not someone else—some other man.

He didn't think he'd be able to handle that idea very well at all. Sometimes being obsessed by an anal retentive, workaholic nerd-type had its advantages. He couldn't see her wandering much—she hadn't had a relationship with a man of any type other than adversarial or work related in a very long time, for which he was eternally grateful.

She'd surprised him that night—in the most pleasant of possible ways—although he had been somewhat wary, which was understandable considering how she had reacted before. But she seemed committed to leaf turning, and, after she allowed him to make love to her that first time, surrendering herself to him so completely, he found himself unable to maintain any objective distance from her at all. He wanted her too badly for that, and he spent that entire evening making sure that she knew just how much.

But they had talked, too, in the dark, intimate hours of the night—and he had whipped up some snacks when they became peckish—and she remained surprisingly loose lipped—both sets—the entire time, sharing with him things he had already guessed, really, but he liked that she felt comfortable enough with him to tell him herself. Of course, he had done so much more than she had and was a relatively experienced dom, which, rather than being jealous as some women would, she seemed to find a curiosity, instead, asking him question after question, even getting him to expound on his philosophies about it, as well as confiding about things he'd done that had gone well—and terribly wrong. He'd done nearly everything she'd ever read about and wanted to do, which he considered a good sign.

She had only ever had one other lover, she'd confessed in a charmingly shy manner, who sounded like a selfish idiot who had no idea of the treasure he had in his hands in her. The asshole had fucked her and left, never calling again, not having bothered to even begin to try to satisfy her in any way whatsoever.

Lucas had grimaced, wishing he knew the man so that he could teach him a thing or twelve. "I will never understand men who are like that."

"How many partners have you had?" she asked quietly, and he took her hand, tickling the palm with her fingertips.

"None of any import, until you," he replied, and she rolled her eyes, making him chuckle. "You didn't find that in the least romantic, I take it?"

Her eyes flickered away from his. "I'd find it more so if I thought that there was the slightest possibility that it was true."

If he had been soberer, himself, he might have been upset at that, but he kept it to himself, standing up suddenly to prod her off the bed, stripping the bedclothes from it with one tug.

"What are you doing?" she asked from just behind him.

He turned and took a moment to drink her in as she stood there completely naked before him.

Suddenly, she saw a glint in his eye that she'd never seen before, and it made her a little nervous. "Stop looking at me like that, Lucas."

He took a step towards her. "Like what, Allyria DuPres Barstow?" he asked, his voice a velvety growl as he advanced on her.

"As if you're going to devour me once you get to me." She tried to giggle, but there was something disturbingly intent about his look—it created a fissure of fear that tingled up her spine and remained on the edges of her consciousness. His use of her full name, too, only added to that titillating spark of fear, reminding her that he knew probably just about as much about her as she did about him, the difference being that learning about him was like reading a thrilling true crime novel or the latest mafia bestseller, where the dashing, GQ cover model crime boss hid a surprising heart of gold.

The details of her life were much more likely to have put him to sleep.

His laugh wasn't really much of one, and it added to her fear, especially since he hadn't stopped staring at her, his gaze never wavering as he backed her up until she could go no further. He didn't stop walking into her until her shoulder blades were pressed against the bedroom wall by his muscular bulk. "You should be so lucky, my dear, to feel my mouth on you," he rumbled as he kissed the side of her neck. "That is a reward for very good behavior—and you have recently confessed to me that you are a bad girl. In fact, you even asked me to spank you again, didn't you?"

She peeped up at him as he raised her hands above her head and held them there, watching her breasts rise even further as he did so, bending down to suckle at first one, then the other.

On a long groan, Allie begged, "Can I go back to being a good girl now, please?"

Lucas straightened, asking, "So soon? The dark side a little too dark for you?"

She surprised him again by straightening her shoulders and looking him in the eye. "No. I was just kidding. Do your worst. I can take it."

He chuckled, as if she had no idea what she was asking for. "Do you trust me, Allie?" he asked, and she could see that it was a serious question.

"Not as far as I could throw you, no," she answered truthfully.

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