Page 98 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

“You brat!” he snarled, losing sight of all the things he’d just told himself and giving in to the urge to give this East Coast princess the spanking she so obviously needed.

Grabbing her by the arm, he put his foot on the log and jerked her across his raised thigh. Without giving her time to react, he brought his hand down hard on the denim-clad rump. A very satisfying gasp—part outrage and part pain—escaped her mouth. A small part of his brain told him he needed to stop, but that part wasn’t in control. He swatted her ass again, and she yelped. That felt and sounded even better. He peppered her backside with an additional six sharp slaps, each accompanied by her crying out, increasingly loudly, until he landed the last one, which elicited a small scream. Much as he’d really like to blister her butt, he still had to get her to Phantom Ranch. As quickly as he had tugged her off her feet and over his knee, he righted her, placing her back on her feet.

“I’ve had enough. One more lie, hit, or snarky remark and I’ll tan your hide.”

“How dare you! Do you feel all big and studly because you spanked me?”

“No darlin’.” He grinned. “I’d feel all studly if I used you like a broodmare—strip off those jeans, bend you over that log, and mount you from behind. The only screams you’d be making would be the ones echoing off the canyon walls from the repeated orgasms I force from you.”

“Bastard! If you don’t think I’m going to tell your boss, you’re crazier than a shit house rat. There’s no way Willa McDaniel would condone your behavior.”

“First, my boss isn’t Willa. Willa is my boss’ wife. I’m pretty damn sure, given the hell you’ve put me through today, my boss would gladly turn a blind eye and would ensure Willa had nothing to say about it unless she wants to find herself in the same sorry state. Now, get on the damn mule, or I’ll take you to Phantom Ranch flung over the front of my saddle.”

God, his balls ached, and his cock was throbbing. Finlay Reid was the last thing he needed or wanted—needed, anyway. His dick was telling him how very much. he wanted her. No, he told himself, not her—a woman, any woman. He really needed to find intimate female company after he found out whatever he could about her brother.

She huffed at him and stalked to Jasper, put her foot in the stirrup, and seemed ready to hop up, then thought better of it. Finlay started to take her foot out and turn to him as he was moving past her. He delivered another sharp blow to her rump.

“Get mounted… now,” he ordered.

Finn shrieked, more in outrage than in pain. At least, that was his conclusion. He hadn’t really spanked her hard enough for it to have caused much pain, especially over her jeans. Not that he wouldn’t like to have her naked and over his knee as he delivered a spanking that resulted in her tears. Then he’d take her in his arms and lecture her about her foolish behavior beforesupplying both of them with some much-needed pleasure. He absentmindedly wondered about the color of her areolas and nipples.

He shook his head again. He needed for his mind to quit going in that direction, but damn, even in her jeans, her ass had felt good. He wondered how it would feel naked?

His hand connecting that last time with her ass hadn’t been all that painful, but more than just uncomfortable and was completely inappropriate. Yet there was no denying it stirred something inside her—something she’d never known existed. It was too disquieting to acknowledge, much less think about. She felt her nipples bead, and moisture gathered between her thighs.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, Finn.

It had been far too long since she’d been intimate with anyone and had never, ever enjoyed anything even remotely resembling rough sex or any kind of power exchange, but it didn’t take much to imagine either with Croft. He definitely had that alpha male swagger—something she’d never been attracted to before. She smiled as she considered her use of the term ‘alpha male.’ Only recently, she’d discovered a niche of romance books that dealt with power-exchange relationships, and while they sounded sexy, Finn was quite sure she had no interest in ever being part of one, especially as the submissive partner.

She had a responsibility to Christian, she reminded herself. If his kidnappers didn’t have the flash drive, she had stashed down her bra, at the designated area by the appointed time, Christianwould die. The man on the other end of the phone had made that very clear.

She lifted her leg to put her foot up in the stirrup, stretching the denim across her buttocks. Involuntarily, she winced and moaned. Finn glanced at Croft to see if he’d seen, and the slow grin that spread across his chiseled features said he had.

“Think you can handle the flat land, or do you want me to lead Jasper?” he asked solicitously.

“I am perfectly capable of riding this mule,” she said, settling herself gingerly in the saddle before heading west.

“Ms. Reid?” Croft called; she looked over her shoulder. “You’re heading the wrong way.”

She was forced to turn Jasper around and head back the way she’d just come.

As she rode up beside him, he said in a soft but very authoritative voice, “I lead, you follow.”

Finn couldn’t help but shiver as his words sent delicious tingles up and down her spine until they settle in her lower pelvic region. He clucked to his mount and headed east.

“Last time I followed you, you tried to get me killed,” she muttered.

“No,” he said in a reasonable tone of voice, his anger having been apparently abated by spanking her, “I tried to take a shorter, more direct trail down from the rim because you lied to the firm about your riding abilities. I would also like to point out the last time you wandered off on your own, you almost got snakebit,” he drawled laconically. “In case you missed it, this isn’t a drawing room in Boston. You need to watch where you’re going and know what you’re doing.”

“I no longer live in Boston. Besides, what would you know about drawing rooms in Boston, and what makes you think I know anything about them?”

He snorted. “I know plenty about Boston and its old-money neighborhoods. As for you, that’s obvious. Everything about you screams more money than sense. Do you even have a job? Won’t they miss you? Why don’t you go home and let us find your brother?”

“Because he’s my brother, and I’m the paying client. Last time I checked, that put me in charge.”

This time, Croft laughed out loud. “Then you’d best check again. Out here, money doesn’t buy you squat except a nice helicopter ride back to the top.” He nudged Sam to a trot. “Let’s go.”

He really was the most exasperating man. If she thought she had any other hope of finding her brother, she’d use language that would make a sailor blush. While he certainly didn’t know the events that surrounded her search for her brother, he had nailed her background. She and Christian had grown up in Beacon Hill, the children of wealthy parents. Her father’s family had been bankers for international concerns for as long as anyone could remember. Christian had been expected to go into the family business, which he had.

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