Beautiful Bitch(8)

When she pushed against my arm so she could sit up, I shifted in my seat, reaching to zip my pants and fasten my belt.

“What the hell?” she asked, looking out the window. Her surprised tone burst through my sex haze. “Is this your house? Why are we here?”

“You wanted to go to your place?”

Shrugging, she said, “I just assumed we would. I don’t have any of my things here.”

“I don’t have anything at your place, either.”

“But I have spare toothbrushes. Do you have spare toothbrushes?”

What the f*ck is she talking about?

“You can use mine. What the f*ck?”

Sighing, she opened her door and mumbled, “Such a man.”

“To be clear,” I said, getting out of the car and following her up the walkway, “I brought you here because this is where I was going to bring you after San Diego. I was going to tie you to my headboard and spank the f*ck out of you. And I intend that again, after everything you put me through.”

Chloe stopped where she stood on my porch, her back to me for several long, confusing seconds before she turned to stare at me. “What did you just say?”

“Did I stutter?” I asked, and when she just continued to stare, I explained, “Yes, we were apart because I was a jerk. But so were you.”

Her eyes narrowed and grew dark. I was half scared, and half thrilled as f*ck that she was about to blow up at me. She backed me to my front door, her fist curling tight around my tie before she yanked down, pulling me so our faces were nearly even. Her dark eyes were wild and wide. “Give me your keys.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled them out, depositing them in her waiting palm without question.

I watched as she flipped through them and actually found the right key on the first guess. “It’s the top lock and the—”

She cut me off with a fingertip to my lips. “Shh. No talking.”

I tried to puzzle out what was happening. Obviously she hadn’t expected me to tease her about leaving me the way she did. Maybe she suspected we’d left all of that discussion in the conference room where we reunited. And I suppose in many ways we had. I didn’t need her to apologize, and I didn’t feel like I needed to apologize anymore. But our separation had been a shitty few months, so it didn’t feel like the conversation about it was entirely over. Besides, spanking her seemed like the most appropriate way to work it all out of our systems.

Her hand didn’t fumble behind me as she slipped the key into the lock. I heard the familiar squeak and click, then she pushed the door open and backed me over the threshold.

“Straight back to my living room,” I offered. “Or down the hall to my bed.”

I could sense her steering me to the living room, her eyes moving between my face, her hand on my tie, and the house behind her. It was, after all, the first time she was seeing my home.

“It’s nice,” she whispered, seeming to decide what she was doing with me as she pulled me up short. “It’s so clean. It’s so . . . you.”

“Thank you,” I said, laughing. “I think.”

As if remembering that she was punishing me for something, she threw me a stern look. “Stay here.”

She left and although I was tempted to see what she was up to, I followed her instruction. After only a few seconds she returned with one of my high-backed dining room chairs. Once she had it situated behind me, she pressed on my shoulders to urge me to sit down.

Turning, she walked over to my sound system, picked up the remote, and scanned the buttons.

“First turn on the—”

“Shh.” Without turning, Chloe held up a single hand to quiet me.

I closed my mouth, jaw tense. She was stretching my patience a little. If she hadn’t indicated that I was supposed to stay seated, and I didn’t suspect she wanted to play, I would have had her flat on her stomach by then and already yanked her ass in the air for a spanking.

After only a few moments, a smooth, pulsing rhythm slid into the room with a woman’s husky voice layered on top. Chloe hesitated at the stereo, shoulders moving with her deep, nervous breaths.

“Baby, come here,” I whispered, hoping she heard me over the music.

She turned, returning to me and standing so close that her thighs pressed against my knees. My face was at her chest level, and I couldn’t help but lean forward, kiss her breast through her shirt. But her hands came up and pushed my shoulders back so that I was again sitting up straight.