Page 8 of His To Protect

Chapter Three

The hotel was twenty minutes from the downtown core in a quieter section of the city. The reception desk uniquely also served as a lobby bar, and they were each given a drink to sip while they registered. Jack didn’t touch his, but she sipped hers wandering around looking at the art on the walls, snapping pictures with her cell as she went.

It was modern and the art pleasing, and although Jack was focused on the task of getting them into a room as quickly as possible, he still glared at her when she finished her drink. She was glad he wasn’t looking when the bartender slid her another.

The receptionist was chatty and Alexis could tell by Jack’s impatient expression that she was slower than he’d like. Alexis kept her mouth shut when Jack told the woman they were on their honeymoon. He was already mad enough at her and rightly so. She had lied to him. Therefore, she didn’t contradict him.

Alexis watched him fill out the paperwork using his surname for both of them and it gave her a weird tickle in her belly. Alexis Cole, she thought with a shiver, admiring Jack’s sexy profile. He was a lot older than her, that she knew, but he didn’t look old, and he was hard bodied and tatted up like one of those mixed martial arts fighters, with broad shoulders and a chest that had no trouble filling out his white t-shirt. His jeans were well-worn too, not designer worn either, he’d worn them out himself.

“Give me that drink,” he said when she started fanning herself with a few of the tourist pamphlets from the pile on the desk. “You’ll need all your faculties while we’re here.”

The receptionist turned to answer the phone, and Jack leaned just a little bit closer to Alexis. She swallowed as he held out his hand for her drink. She didn’t know why, but she quivered.

“I don’t want any of your pain receptors dulled when I put you across my knee, little one.”

He’d said he was going to spank her but she hadn’t thought he was serious, and now that she knew he was, she realized the butterflies fluttering wildly inside her were totally justified.

“Alexis.” Her eyes flew to his at the warning in his tone, and she caught her lip between her teeth, quickly passing him the drink.

“Sorry. I was thirsty.”

He cocked his brow at her and mumbled what she thought was ‘you will be’. He looked to the bartender, pointed at Alexis and said, “Agua, por favor.” The bartender smirked, filled a glass with water and handed it to her. She shoved the pamphlets into her purse and took the glass.

Shivering, she took a long pull of the cold liquid. The way her knees got all weak at Jack’s dominance, it may as well have been straight vodka.

If Jack thought telling the receptionist it was their honeymoon would speed things up, he was wrong. The receptionist ushered them to a little table and waved over the bartender with champagne as soon as check-in was complete, promising their room would be ready in fifteen minutes.

Alexis reached for the champagne, hopeful, but Jack’s brow arched at her. She considered drinking it anyway, after all, would he really make a scene? But she changed her mind quickly when he leaned back and crossed his muscled arms as if he knew what she was thinking. His expression dared her to disobey and Alexis’s gut warned her not to.

But fifteen minutes to soak up as much alcohol as she could would give her some liquid courage for his interrogation and bravery for the spanking he’d promised. Her belly was still nervously fluttering, but she felt something else too. A bit of heat. Down there. Was the thought of Jack spanking her turning her on? Jack was hot—like rugged, dangerous, sexy hot. Even in his current broody state with that frowny-hardened stare and that tense square, stubbled jaw.

Alexis let her chin fall into her palm as she stared at him. She liked his eyes. There was something genuine and honest about them, and they were a gorgeous green, not emerald, but bottle-green. They deepened and darkened when he was grumpy, like sea glass changed when it was wet.

Twenty-five minutes later, with a big smile, the receptionist passed Jack a key and sent them to their room. Alexis had read on one of the brochures that each room had been decorated by a different artist, and she wasn’t disappointed when she entered.

Their suite was modern, clean and bright, and filled with interesting bold art. Jack didn’t seem to notice. He mumbled ‘good’ when he saw the kitchen, complete with coffee maker, toaster and dishes. Alexis, admiring the fireplace in the corner of the living area, jumped when Jack started smacking a wooden spoon off his palm. She spun, swallowing hard but then his attention was stolen.

“Jesus!” he swore and she laughed when she saw what had pulled his gaze. His plan to get them into the room sooner had definitely backfired. The bedroom was filled with candles and rose petals. There was also a fruit basket and more champagne that sat chilling on the side table.

“Get freshened up. I’ll make coffee,” he grumbled, setting the spoon down.

She nodded and went to the washroom, thankful for the reprieve. Her purse had everything she needed for the moment. She washed her face with cool water and then simultaneously combed out her unruly curls as she brushed her teeth. It felt so good after their long day of travel, but every time she heard Jack moving out in the room, her gut flipped.

“Hurry up in there!” he hollered when she stalled at the door. “You have a spanking coming.”

Jack’s arms were crossed when she came out. He looked even more annoyed, and it made her gut fall.

“Jack?” She licked her lips and tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

“Hm?”

“Are you really going to spank me?” Her heart jumped in her chest when he closed the distance between them.

“Little girl, I’ve known you’ve needed a spanking since the moment we met, so yes, god-damn-it, I’m going to spank you.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the couch.

Following along behind him, she felt like a puppet with no control over her body. His strong hand was wrapped tightly around her upper arm as he marched her. He dropped to the white leather couch and yanked her over his lap. She gasped at the swiftness of the movement but didn’t protest. This whole situation was strange, and even if she protested, it wouldn’t do her any good. She needed him. But more importantly, she wanted him and dammit if this whole situation wasn’t turning her on.

“Jack, you keep calling me a little girl and I’m not. Just because you’re older than me, it doesn’t make me a child.” In truth, she wanted him to call her little girl again. Whenever he did, she felt all swoony. Ooh, and ‘little one’. She liked that one too.

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