Page 60 of The Fangirl and the Grump

“Ha,” I scoff. “First of all, my sister is a charlatan. She’s no more a witch than you or I. But, I did sense something between them at the lake. His interest is definitely peaked. I even remember him giving her the goo-goo eyes the first night we saw each other right here in this very bar.”

“Oh, you mean the night I called you––”

“Zip it, Woman. Or I really will acquaint that perfect ass with the palm of my hand.”

“Promise?” she sing-songs, batting her eyelashes at me.

“I solemnly swear,” I say, placing the aforementioned palm over my heart.

“Well, if I can’t call you…you-know-what…I’ll just have to come up with another reason to earn the punishment,” she says coyly, tapping the tip of a finger against her chin. “Maybe I’ll tell Willow what you said about her being a charlatan. She won’t like that at all.”

“Don’t test me, baby,” I growl.

“Oh, I love tests! I was always a good test-taker in school.”

“Finish your drink,” I grumble. “We can eat back at the lodge.”

“Oh, I’m counting on both of us doing a lot ofeating,” she says with a playful eyebrow waggle.

Lord, this woman is going to be the death of me.

ChapterTwenty-Six

Keegan

We’re mostly naked and all over each other within seconds of the door closing behind us. I’m not even sure it latched properly, but the concern vanishes as Trace picks me up with a growl and carries me toward the couch.

Instead of laying me down like I expected, he sets me on my feet, spins me around, and applies pressure to my upper back until I bend over with my ass in the air. Trace’s hand slides up between my thighs, and a satisfied moan vibrates in his chest when he finds me soaked and ready for him.

But instead of immediately giving me that D, he drops to his knees and eats me from behind, his hands spreading me open as his tongue fucks into me. His thumb finds my clit, massaging it just the way I like, and I widen my stance to give him better access.

He brings me right to the edge, and I don’t even try to suppress my sound of frustration when he pulls away just before I fall over it. Trace chuckles and stands, his palms smoothing over my ass for a minute before he speaks.

“You’ve been baiting me all week,” he says slowly, sliding a single finger deep inside me before pulling it right back out. “You’ve been begging to be punished, haven’t you, baby?”

My heart leaps into my throat, half-anticipation, half-fear as he rubs my right ass cheek in slow circles.Oh, God. This is it. And even though I’m kind of freaking out, I lift my ass a little higher, presenting it to him like some kind of gift.

His hand disappears, and I tense, waiting for the crack of his palm. The anticipation makes me even wetter as I hold my breath. But the slap doesn’t come, and I crane my neck to look back at him.

He’s watching me with an intense expression as he says, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything you don’t find enjoyable, and you seem tense.”

Warmth fills my chest at his worry as I nod. “Please. Do it.”

I face forward once more, my blood racing as he begins smoothing the skin of my ass again. His touch disappears, and before I can react in any way, his hand cracks against my flesh, sending waves of heat through my core.

His palm soothes away the sting, leaving me panting as he growls and buries his cock deep inside me. I cry out at the pleasure of it, then again as he grips my hips roughly and pistons his body, driving into me again and again as the sounds of our slapping skin echo off the walls around us.

His right hand releases me, and before I can even think about bracing myself, another slap stings my ass, setting off an orgasm. I shout as my inner walls clench down, and Trace grunts and drives deep one last time. He rolls his hips as his hand smooths my stinging skin, both movements setting off a round of aftershocks that have me groaning with pleasure.

“Jesus,” he mutters between heavy breaths.

“I concur,” I gasp back, and he chuckles.

Pulling out, he wraps his arms around me and spins, pulling me down onto his lap as he sits on the couch. I curl up there, my head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat gradually slow as he runs his hand up and down my back.

“It wasn’t too much, right?” he asks softly, breaking the silence.

“Definitely not,” I say. “I might have to bait you more often.”

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