“Were you seriously about to go out?”
“Yes,” she hisses. “That’s what I do, you know. I’m famous. I go out.”
“Yeah, not right now you don’t,” I mutter back.
“Oh, fuck yo—”
“Not when there’s a danger to your life.”
She starts to back away from me, like she’s going to get back into the car, and I growl, my eyes narrowing. Yeah, no. I’m not going to play the brat game right here in the fucking driveway.
My hand darts out to grab her.
“Get over he—”
I swear, she moves faster than I’d have ever given her credit for, and I never see her hand until it’s too late. Her palm smacks across my face, loudly, stunning us both.
I freeze, my muscles clenched as my eyes burn into her. And slowly, I see her face go white as she realizes what she just did.
“Oh, fuck, I’m—”
I growl as I snatch her up, throwing her over my shoulder just like I did before. Because she wants to act the spoiled little brat? Fine, I’ll play that game too.
Little. Fucking. Brat.
I turn and storm into the house, and she squirms against me like she did earlier, that body writhing against my bare skin. Fuck. My cock stirs. No, not stirs. Throbs. Swells. Pulses. I can feel it thickening, straining at the towel barely wrapped around my waist. My hand grips her tight little ass I stomp back into the house.
“You prick!” She kicks at me.
“Brat,” I bark back.
She squirms again, hitting me, and we tumble into the living room. I grunt, throwing her down across the huge L-shaped couch as she shrieks, her hair tumbling across her face, her legs going wide.
Fuck.
She’s wearing this little pink lacy thong. And goddamn does my cock react, which would be bad in jeans, but in a towel?
Yeah.
She goes to kick out at me again, when suddenly, her eyes drop to the thick tent in my towel, and her face goes red. Those eyes widen, her mouth opening in this adorable “O” shape as her gaze drops to my thick erection.
“Oh.” That’s all she says. Oh — this quiet, breathless sound.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I growl, eying her. “For this week, you’re mine. You’re under my protection and that means my rules,” I snap.
“You’re not my dad.”
I’d almost be hurt if she didn’t sass me back at this point.
“No,” I growl, smiling thinly at her. “Because if I was, I would’ve spanked your bratty ass years ago.”
She blushes wildly, eyes darting over my face.
“That what you want, huh?” she mutters breathlessly. “You wanna spank me?”
I growl, my eyes blazing fire.
Suddenly, Alyssa lunges, but this time, I’m ready for it. I catch her, ignoring her ear-piercing shriek as I pull her into my arms, turn, and yank us both down onto the couch. She squirms and struggles against me, making me groan as I feel her body undulate against mine.
No more bullshit. This little brat is about to learn what my rules means.
I yank her over me, bending her right over my knees, and she gasps loudly.
“Are you fucking serious?!”
“Yep.”
The word growls out of my throat thickly, my blood roaring through me as I pin her over my towel-clad lap. My muscles clench and ripple, my skin tingles with raw need, and my cock fucking aches for more.
“What are you going to do, huh?” she spits back at me indignantly. “Fucking spank me or something?”
“Yep.”
My hands tighten on her, and she gasps quietly.
5
Alyssa
Oh God.
I gasp as his rough hands pull me across his lap, pushing me down, my body draped across his thighs.
Oh fuck, he’s serious.
There’s a part of me that wants to rebel, and scream — the part of me that knows this is wrong, and dirty, and so inappropriate, or that I should be incensed or even horrified that he wants to put his hands on me like this. But, then there’s the other part of me — this dark, forbidden part deep inside.
The same part of me that watched him from behind dark sunglasses and thought all sorts of dirty, filthy things. He’s not like the men I meet in my life. He’s not a slick agent with a shark-toothed smile and a suit. He’s not a pretty boy actor or musician, or model-type looking to charm me. He’s just a man. Pure, dominant, alpha man.
Maybe that’s why he’s so hot to me.
Maybe it’s that growing up in tinsel-town surrounded by primped and pampered pretty boys has me aching for something raw and masculine. And Diesel is every fucking inch of that.
I gasp as his hand slides across the small of my back, holding me down as his other one slides across my ass. I moan, and part of me wonders if deep down, this is why I wanted to try and sneak out tonight. Not the last minute text from one of my phony friends about a party I should come to in Topanga Canyon. I mean, I’m not even sure I’d want to even go to that. So maybe I left knowing he’d know, and chase after me.