Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“I... don’t know.” I was still trying to figure out what he'd meant. Still trying to decide whether this was real or I was in some drink-fueled dreamland. My head was still screaming, and my hands were beginning to shake and sweat.
Bile danced at the back of my throat and the dark fingers of the black pit where I lived my life began to tug at me and pull me toward the bottom.
“You! God damn it. You drive me crazy.” The furrows in his brow deepened, and for the first time in as long as I could remember I saw genuine emotion from this emotionless former Green Beret.
Anger. Sorrow. Frustration.
At least I'd brought something out.
The thick, broad muscles in his chest raised and lowered with his restrained breaths. The voice in my head was bellowing, incessant and beyond demanding. I needed my oldest and worst friend.
“Just let me get a drink..." I turned, grabbing the door handle. "I need--"
All 6’6” and 250 pounds of iron muscle and ferocious determination leaned forward, bracing his foot against the bottom of the door. Then he scooped me up around the waist, bouncing me on his hip for a few steps like a bag of helpless potatoes before he flipped me over, dropping himself with me in tow down onto the sofa.
“Jesus, Jesse—”
Whatever else I was planning on saying evaporated as he ripped my jeans down over my rear end without so much as unbuttoning them, something I would not have thought possible, especially with all the junk I keep packed in my trunk, if you know what I mean.
I wiggled and strained as he grunted and tugged, rehoming my pants around my knees as I screamed and kicked with whatever power my sick, weakened body could muster.
“Stop it!" I screamed. " What the fuck are you doing?"
I couldn’t see his face, only the walls and the floor and those sexy black boots he was wearing. But his hands moved like a fury, the cool air of the room washing across my naked ass as he ripped my panties off.
The wisp of white fabric flew through my visual field, landing in a soft flutter near the door as the weight of his broad palm in the center of my back pushed me hard onto his thighs. My disheveled hair stuck to my face as I hung at an odd, uncomfortable angle over his lap, vile words streaming from my mouth.
The first blow exploded in a fiery dance across my flesh, lighting me up with white light from the inside out.
Smack.
Smack smack.
I just got spanked.
Chapter
Four
I’ve had two other moments in my life where time seemed to alter itself. Where it became flexible and stretched itself out before me.
The first was when the police showed up at my house and took me from my parents.
The second was the moment I saw Jesse, standing in the hallway at the hospital. His first night home on leave in six months, and he and Kent had gone out to decimate the local Golden Corral buffet. And there he was, waiting for me, the look in his eyes telling me everything my nightmares were made of.
My brother was gone.
Jesse had always had power. Not just over me, but over everyone he ever met. As I lay across his legs in that office, completely at his mercy, I felt it in the deep strike of his blows, restrained as they were. But it was so much more. It was something deep inside every fiber of his being that made him almost vibrate. Elevate. The energy that surrounded him made people take a step away, give him a wide berth, without even knowing why.
Holding my breath, the next stinging smack layered upon the last and dots of white light speckled in my vision.
Smack.
“Holy shit, stop it!” My pitiful voice was barely above a whisper as I lay over the legs of the man that had been the object of my fantasies back before I should have had fantasies.
His open, bare hand made sickening smacking noises against the naked flesh of my upturned bottom.
The force of his blows was immeasurably more intense than a mere spanking.
Like smack smack to the n’th degree.
The world seemed to tip over on itself. I felt the flex of his muscles against my belly. The warmth of his body holding me down as much as his hands were.
There was pain, sure, but under that prickle of nerve endings the connection went deeper.
Deeper.
God, so much deeper.
My eyes exploded in stinging rivers of tears, along with soul-shaking sobs that emanated from a place so walled off and fortified deep within me, that no light had penetrated since Kent died.
There was a pause, a silence so ear-splitting I filled it with words I barely recognized as my own.
“More. I need—” My throat closed, fists balled, eyes squeezing shut to block out everything but this, right here, right now.