Page 5 of His Captive Pet

“I’ll figure out something. I can’t save them all at one time.”

“Do you understand who you’re dealing with?” He couldn’t keep the fierceness out of his tone.

“Yeah. The Pecadores. As long as I stay under the radar and keep to myself, it’ll be fine.”

He wiped his face with his hand, trying to make some sense out of her. Before him sat a powerful, intelligent woman, yet she behaved like an innocent fool.

“You need to stop. We’ll find another way to help.”

Her eyes narrowed, her posture straightened with his dictate. Ah. She wouldn’t give in easily.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her words still slurred just enough to let him know the rum still coursed through her body.

He went to her on the couch, leaning over and trapping her between his arms. He brought his face right to hers. With a soft gasp, her eyes widened.

“If you go to another dog fight, Aubree, I’ll take a strap to your ass.” He kept his voice tight. No room for confusion with this situation.

“Are you threatening me?” Her attempt to match his tone failed. Smiling would give her the wrong impression, so instead, he grasped her chin.

“I never threaten. I’m making you a promise. If you step one toe in another dog fight, I will strap your ass until it’s red and swollen.”

She trembled beneath his touch, but the dilation of her eyes assured him he’d been right.

“I really need to get home. Samuel’s probably starving by now.” She turned away, and he let go of her chin.

“Promise me.” He didn’t let her off the couch yet. Not until he had some assurances.

“Blake.” She smiled, forcing a laugh. If she thought he was letting her walk out of the bar and into the hands of the Pecadores, she had a big surprise coming to her.

“I’m not messing around here, Aubree. If you were mine, you’d have one hell of a punishment coming for going alone today.”

“But I’m not yours.” True enough but not good enough. Not for him.

“Maybe not yet.”

She scoffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “Right.”

“Promise me.” Her eyes glossed, and he could see the exhaustion starting to build. She needed to get home and get to sleep.

“If I was yours, you’d really try to keep me from going?” The question sounded more out of curiosity than accusation.

Go ahead, test the waters, sweetheart.“If you were mine, I’d do whatever I thought was needed to keep you safe. If you were mine, there wouldn’t be an ounce of reprieve for disobedience.”

Her pink tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth.

“Promise me, and I’ll walk you home.” He’d be walking her home anyway, but it would go faster if she would give over.

After a long moment of silence and watching her think, she finally granted him with a nod. “Fine. I promise.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to her lips and standing up. Damn. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. But, now he could taste her on his lips; he could feel the brief warmth the kiss left, and he wanted more.

She touched her lips; apparently, she did, too. She was still tipsy. There wouldn’t be anything else. With a fresh blush, she tried to recover and stood up. “Where’s my purse?”

“Greg put it behind the bar. We’ll get it on the way out.” He walked ahead of her. “He went home about an hour ago. It’s late.” Once he reached the bar he grabbed her bag for her, holding it out to her.

“You don’t have to walk me home. It’s just down the block, I’ll be fine.”

“Your jaw is swollen.” He leaned over the bar and captured her chin in his hand, tilting her face to get a better look. He cursed and released her. If he hadn’t been fantasizing about kissing her, he would have noticed sooner.

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