windows—no witnesses—and the gym equipment was unburied.
“What is this?” I asked.
“No muscles and slow here,” he tapped his head.
I almost flipped him off, but I wasn’t sure what was going on. Was he mad? Did he bring me down here to torture me in some new way?
He reached out, quick as lightning, and tapped my arm in a way that made it swing loosely at my side.
He chuckled.
“No muscle,” he repeated.
I didn’t react. I watched him as he circled me. He was stalking me like I was some type of prey. I only wished I knew why. His focus was freaking me out.
Lightning fast, he rushed me, and I found myself on my back again.
“Where is your fight now, Hannah? Will you give up? Will you let me do whatever I want?”
I swallowed hard. What was the right answer? What was he thinking?
In a blink, I found myself face down on the mat. One of his big hands held my thigh. My eyes went wide in understanding a moment before his other hand came down on the same damn butt cheek. I couldn’t even squeal, it hurt so much.
“Does your backside sting?” he whispered in my ear.
Chapter Thirteen
Rage fueled my so-called weak muscles. I twisted out of Merdon’s hold and scrambled to my feet.
With a feral smile, he bared his teeth.
“Make me pay, Hannah,” he goaded.
I flew at him. My fists bombarded his chest for a fleeting moment before I was on my back again. The stunned second it took for that to register was all he needed to flip me over. I swore, knowing what he meant to do, and tried to scramble away. But, I wasn’t fast enough to avoid his iron hand.
The crack echoed in the basement.
Snarling, I struggled to my feet. This time, I didn’t fly at him. We circled each other. When he lunged for me, I tried to swivel out of the way. Again, I wasn’t fast enough. I was mean, though, just like he said. When he had me on my back, I bit him.
He retreated with a grunt, and I shot to my feet.
Now that I understood his game, I fought hard to stay off my back. When he did manage to get me there, I did everything I could to avoid being flipped to my stomach. Sometimes, I wasn’t fast enough or strong enough or smart enough, and my ass felt the pain of that failure. Each smack refueled my rage and gave me more will to not end up on the floor.
We went on like this until my limbs shook with effort and sweat coated my skin.
I landed on my back, yet again, not even sure what I’d done wrong to get there, and quickly rolled to escape his grasp. It was a move I’d used before to avoid a spank and regain my footing. This time, everything felt slower, and when I tried to stand, my legs gave out. I tried once more and collapsed to my knees, panting.
“Enough,” Merdon said.
I looked up. He wasn’t crouched, ready to attack, but standing with his legs braced and arms crossed as he studied me. The bastard wasn’t even winded.
“Go upstairs and shower.”
My gaze went to the stairs, and my legs wanted to weep. I couldn’t even stand; how in the hell was I going to manage two flights of steps?
“Or do you want me to carry you?”
I focused on Merdon. Everything ached, and I was exhausted beyond reason. I’d like nothing more than to be carried upstairs, but I knew his offers were always double-edged. There was no way I was in any condition to take him up on another challenge. I was certain that my ass was hot enough from all of his spankings to heat a living room in the Arctic.
“I’ll walk,” I managed.
It took two tries to get to my feet. He watched impassively, without making any offer to help as I shuffled forward. I wasn’t sure my legs would handle the stairs. My thighs threatened mutiny after the third step, and I had to grip the railing like a lifeline as I continued to ascend.
He followed me quietly, his silence making me as nervous as his proximity to my backside. There wasn’t much I could do about the latter, and he and I weren’t so good at the conversation thing.
The sight of my bed almost made me weep. I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers, but I knew what would happen if I tried