Fills me with the kind of heat that gathers in the dampness between my thighs.
And it makes me want to disobey.
Because what would he do then, huh?
Would he lean me over his knee and spank me?
Punish me until my cheeks are red and raw and every step back to my desk twinges with the reminder of his hands on me?
Would he call me a good girl when he’s through?
I dream about being called into a meeting with the three of them, admonished for my poor attitude.
About them hiking up my tight skirt, drawing my soaking panties down my thighs and stuffing them in my mouth to keep me quiet as they rub my bare cheeks…
Before the first swat lands.
My yelp is swallowed by the ball of fabric in my mouth.
Each of them taking turns swinging, stroking, soothing until I’m a puddle of need and satisfaction.
Until I’m barely able to keep my legs under me.
Would the slickness between my thighs—evidence of my arousal—break them?
Would their hands slipping lower to find the spot that makes me ache for them?
Could I make them snap?
Take what they want from me?
Let them ruin me?
One after another—or at the same time.
They’ve been circling closer since Dad’s death.
They were his friends.
His shadows.
And now, they’re mine.
It should scare me, maybe, but it doesn’t.
It makes me want to turn up my brattiness until I have every ounce of their attention.
Until they snap.
I want to be their toy, their girl, their little obsession.
2
HARPER
Isnap my journal shut when Sunny slides into the seat across from me, and I offer her a smile to look a little less guilty.
I don’t think she falls for it, yet she brandishes me with a dose of her sunshine smile.
