Unforgettable: Book Two (A Hollywood Love Story #2)(27)

“Jesus, Brandon!” I fumble for my seatbelt. Before I can fasten it, he grips my hands so tightly I yelp.

“Let go of me!”

“Turn around and face me, Zoey.”

“No!”

“Do it, Zoey, or I’ll do it for you.”

Slowly, I turn to face him. His violet eyes are still blazing with fury.

“Who the hell is that guy?”

“M-my brother.”

“Pete’s kid?”

I nod. While I mentioned Pops and Auntie Jo had a son when I told him about my family, I deliberately never revealed his name.

“Why did you lie to me?” He fires the words at me.

“I-I don’t know.” My voice wavers.

“To make me jealous?”

My silence is his answer. Shaking, I’m so close to bursting out in tears I can taste them.

His gaze burns a hole in me like acid. And then his face softens just a little. “You know what, Zoey? You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute. You should have a boyfriend.”

Me? Smart? Funny? Cute? My body clutters with flutters.

“Um, uh,” I stutter until he shuts me up without warning.

His luscious mouth crashes onto mine like a meteor. My body is sparking; my heart’s on fire. Swirling colors explode behind my eyes. The kiss is open-mouth, savage, and all-consuming. He cradles my face in his palms, heating my cheeks and deepening the raw, hot kiss with his deft tongue. Anchored in place, I melt into it, losing myself to him with each potent stroke. Moans fill my ears as I tear at his T-shirt, and he gnaws at my lips. Arrows of arousal shoot to my sex. I can barely breathe. There’s no other word for it. Possession. He’s taken complete and utter possession of not only my mouth but also of every cell in my submissive body. And then as fast and unexpectedly as he initiated the fierce kiss, he breaks it, leaving me bereft and confounded.

“Why did you do that?” I pant out, my heart pounding, my * pulsing with need.

“To show you what you’re missing out on.”

“Oh.” As I squeak out the little word, my eyes lower and then grow as round as marbles. Holy shit! He’s got a beast of a boner. It may even burst through the fabric of his sweats.

He tilts my chin up with his thumb, pressing hard against my tender skin. His eyes burn into mine, glinting with mad lust. “I’m not done with you.”

My just-kissed lips quiver. My body shakes. My throbbing clit aches. Oh my God! Is he going to f*ck my brains out? Right here in the car?

“Zoey, you need to be punished.” His voice deepens and a Satanic look sweeps over his face. “And I’m going to be the one to do it.”

He jams a key into the ignition, and on my next heated breath, we peel away from the curb with a roar.




A short ten minutes later, we’re almost back at his house. A tense silence prevails as he zooms up the narrow winding streets, expertly navigating them. Entering the gate, we pass the patrol car on duty. Brandon zips into the garage and parks next to the Jag. Apprehension and anticipation are still whipping through my veins as he clicks open the Lambo’s switchblade doors and undoes our seatbelts. Rounding the vehicle, he grips my upper arm and drags me into his house. It’s pitch black, lit only by the glitter of the city below. The dark silence is mesmerizing, almost haunting.

Letting go of me, he sinks into his sofa. His gorgeous face is shrouded in shadows. His violet eyes glow. I stand there motionless like a statue, too scared to move a muscle or say a word.

“Zoey, have you ever been spanked?” His voice is pitched low, almost melodic.

“No,” I mumble. Mama and Papa didn’t believe in that kind of corporal punishment. Nor did Pops or Auntie Jo.

“For taunting me, you need to suffer the consequences. A good spanking is what you need.”

My heart is in my throat. I gulp it down. A curious blend of tingly erotic sensations swarms me. Fear gives way to desire. I want him to spank me. Badly.

“Are you okay with that?” he queries.

I silently nod like an automaton. I more than want him to spank me. And I want him to give it to me hard. My throbbing clit is begging for it.


A wicked smile curls his lips. “Good. Then, please come here and get over my knees.”

As if induced into a trance, I do as asked. His hard muscular thighs press against my abdomen and I can feel his gigantic rock-hard erection against my pulsing sex. My arms are folded on a cushion, my head buried between them.

“Perfect,” he growls as he shoves my tight dress up above my ass, leaving my thong, a mere piece of butt floss, intact. I can feel his eyes on my bottom.

“You have a gorgeous ass, Zoey. It’s a shame you don’t have a real boyfriend to appreciate it.”

I’m too entranced to say a word.

“This is going to hurt. I want you to choose a safe word and use it if it becomes too much for you.”

Shit. I can’t get my mind to work. Or my mouth to move. Think, Zoey, Think.

“Well, Zoey…”

“Please,” I murmur. Mama’s magic word.

“Any word but that.”

“Mama,” I say without overthinking it.

“Excellent. Now, tell me, Zoey, you’ll never lie to me again.”

Before I can I get my mouth to move, a firm hand crashes down on my right cheek. I feel the sting as the sharp sound echoes in my ears. A moan escapes my mouth.