Page 23 of Such a Naughty Girl

A flicker of rage filled her face.

‘I didn’t want any ofthis. Youmademe.’

Beneath the rage, there was doubt. Denial. It wasn’t me she was mad at. It was herself.

‘I didn’t, Izzy. I may not have turned your offering down, but you suggested the sexual stuff. You pursued it.’

Izzy stood, her chest rising in anger.

‘Do you think I’dchooseyou? That I would want you to be the man I first gave myself to? You’re a creepy old man.’

I’d been in enough heated exchanges to know when it washumiliationand self-loathing driving an exchange. While her words hurt, it wasn’t about me. Guilt made her lash out with vicious little claws.

‘Gonna go clean up for dinner,’I said, rising with a sigh.

‘Can’t help yourself, can you? Don’t like the idea of having forced yourself on someone half your age?’Oof. She’d moved to spitting venom.

‘Keep telling yourself that,sweetheart. Bet you’ll still be begging for my fingers in the middle of the night. Not long until you need to go back topretendingto be a good girl, right?’

She let out an angry screech.

‘I’d rather be there than here. It’s like being holed up with a big hairy yeti. Heck, that would be better. He might want to stick his gross dick in me, but at least he’d have a Christmas tree. Not you.No. I’ve landed in the only snow-covered cabin that screamsjoy and fun doesn't exist. It’s like Scrooge and the Grinch had a baby and it made you.’

I closed the bathroom door behind me and leaned back against it, closing my eyes and taking a breath.

Fuckin’ women.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IZZY

Staring at the bathroom door did nothing to calm me down. I wanted to tear through it and kick Emmett right in the shins. To kick him until he pinned me down in a rage and took me.

Dammit.

No!

Somehow Emmett hadinfiltratedmy brain and filled it withdisgustingurges, which I had no businessentertaining.

I didn’t want to have sex withhim.

I didn’t want to have sex at all.

The twinge from my groin called me a liar.

Truly, I didn’t know who I was madder at. Him for getting me into the mess or me for enjoying it. Or my dad for making my so-called purity such a gigantic ball and chain in my life. Most people just had sex. Sure, they made stupid mistakes and sometimes regretted it. But they also hadfun. No guilt.

The lights flickered in the cabin before returning to black. It must mean workmen were nearby fixing downed lines.

They could help me. They’d have a big truck and could get me to a town to call my parents.

Hastily, I pulled on my clothes and coat, shoving my feet into my sneakers. Still no signal on my phone. My car keys jangled in my coat pocket, waiting to be returned to normality.

No more sitting around and waiting to be rescued.

No more bartering with the loner to swap cookies for cock-sucking.

The sun was already dipping as my feet crunched in the first footsteps of snow outside. I needed to get to the road and then I’d wait until the trucks came by and plead for help.

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