Page 66 of The Prodigal

She backs up as I eat up the space between us. “You think you can answer my phone without permission?”

Halting mid-step, she smiles. “You think I’m scared of you?” She moves closer until her chest is shoved up against mine. “You think I give a shit about your empty threats? Well, guess what, sugar?” She grabs my chin like a psychopath and spits, “I. Don’t.”

I warned her, right?

Ripping her hand away from my face, I haul her over my shoulder and walk to the car, setting her down not so gently on the hood.

“Say it,” I bark, grasping her chin as she did mine. “Say you will never answer my phone again.”

This crazy woman pinches her fingers together and slides them over her lips as if she’s zipping her mouth shut. My dick goes rock-fucking-solid in seconds.

“Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to make this right.”

Without another word, I flip the button on her shorts and yank them to her knees.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes go wide. “Someone could catch us.”

I’m not even shocked that her warped brain isn’t so much upset by the fact that I might be about to fuck her on the hood of this car, but she’s more upset that someone might catch us doing it. She deserves what’s coming to her for that reason alone.

I enjoy the excitement in her eyes just long enough that I’ll remember it later before I flip her over on her stomach and whisper, “If you don’t want anyone to see us, then I suggest you stay quiet.”

Shoving her chest against the cool metal of the hood, I skim down the leather jacket, using only the pads of my fingers. With each pass, her breathing grows more erratic than before. “Are you scared, love?”

“No.”

“Should I stop, then?”

She shakes her head as goose bumps appear along the backs of her thighs.

My cock jumps at the sight of my enemy lying exposed across my most cherished possession while wearing my leather jacket.

“Good,” I whisper against the shell of her ear as the length of my body covers hers. “Because the next time you think of disobeying me, I want you to remember that it wasn’t the sun that left your cheeks pink today.”

Eden

As soon as his finger slips under the edge of my panties, I gasp.

“Should I stop, or are you a brave little lamb?”

The humid air kisses my exposed skin as Remington moves the fabric aside, exposing more of my bare cheek. I’ve never been spanked before, but that doesn’t mean I’m not completely thrilled to be in this position, taunting the most hateful man on the planet while I break down his walls one comment at a time.

“Depends,” I goad, “are you going to teach me a lesson, or are you going to keep stalling by asking stupid questions?”

Remington’s returning growl sends tingles throughout my body. I love when he’s this way—unhinged and angry that I don’t cower at his threats.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look beneath me,” he whispers into my ear. “A sacrificial innocent atoning for the sins of the guilty.”

The seductive words swirl in the pit of my stomach.

Sacrifices.

Innocents.

Guilty.

A tragic story ending in hope.

“You called me your friend earlier,” I note boldly. “Which is it? Am I your friend or your sacrifice?”

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