in this cold chest of mine— squeezes. Katie looks like a lonesome little girl who ran away from home. Her hair is scraggly and messy, all sweaty from her long walk, and yet she’s beautiful to me.
I speed up, pull a few paces ahead of her, park the car, and get out.
This little girl is in so much fucking trouble.
She doesn’t notice me at first, not until she’s only paces away from me. And when she sees me, she freezes. She drops her bags to the ground and wraps her arms around herself. She looks up at me with those big, beautiful eyes of hers.
I shake my head and shove my hands in my pockets. “Going somewhere, little girl?”
She swallows hard. “Home,” she whispers.
My body tightens, and I take a step closer to her. “We had an agreement.”
“I’m a menace to you.”
“You broke our contract.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
I clench my jaw. “You left without telling me anything.”
“I won’t burden you.”
We talk like this, at each other without really communicating at all, until we both just come to a halt. She looks so lonesome, I can’t help but reach for her, even though I want to drop to the sidewalk on one knee and drag her across the other one and redden her ass for this.
I crook my finger at her, my relief at finding her quickly morphing into the need to punish this transgression.
“Come here.”
She flinches at my tone of voice.
Good.
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll chase you. I’ll catch you. And I’ll put you right over my knee, right here, for anyone to see.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth parts. She blinks once, then twice, and finally manages a feeble protest. I know that look, the way her pupils dilate and her cheeks flush. She knows she’s in trouble, but she’s turned on. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” I flex my palm, fully ready to follow through. I beckon her again. “Now come. Here.”
She drags her feet as she walks to me, her eyes downcast. I want to gather her up in my arms and kiss her. I want to bring her home and fuck her until every nerve in her body feels my desperate need for her. I want to comfort her, punish her, lecture her for being so willfully defiant and stubborn.
In short, I don’t know what the hell to do with her.
When she reaches me, I pinch her chin to hold her gaze.
“Did you think you solved anything by running?”
She swallows, but doesn’t look away. “They were talking about you all over the TV, and I—”
I give her one sharp shake of my head. “That’s not what I asked you.”
She sighs. “Yes, I did,” she says truthfully. “I eliminated me from your life, which would… simplify things.”
Simplify things? Jesus.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Talk to you?” she says, and for the first time, I see my own anger reflected in her gaze. “When? When you were busy on a conference call? When you were doing an interview? While we were fucking? When you were sleeping?”
Ahhhh. So my cold, aloof nature has kept me from making yet another connection. But this time, I’m finding myself actually caring about the possible loss.
“You still could’ve talked to me.”
“I still could’ve done a lot of things, but I didn’t,” she snaps, a petulant tone in her voice. “And you could have done some talking yourself, mister.”
“I will be doing some talking. Back at my place. With you laid over my lap.” My palm seems to have a mind of its own, patting my knee.
She jerks her chin away. “I’m not sure I’m up for... talking.”
I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Oh, you will be, little girl. You displeased your daddy very much by doing this.” Even through my anger, a deep, abiding need thrums through me. “And daddy’s going to take you over his knee and spank your bare ass for this.”
She squirms, and her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.
I go on. “You signed a contract, Katie, one I won’t let you simply break by calling Miranda. It isn’t that easy.”
She squirms harder. Good.
“And in that contract, nowhere is there anything about you protecting me. I love that you’re so innocent, I’m not gonna lie. But baby, I’m on the news every other fucking week about something. I’ve got a team of lawyers and a cutthroat publicist that work for me.”
She stills. This likely didn’t occur to her. “You… do? Can they... fix this?”
“Yeah, baby. It doesn’t even