unable to bring myself to answer. The call buzzes on though, and I know not answering will likely only make things worse when Spider finally comes back.
As Pip instructed, I feel around the device until I find the button and press it. “Hello?” The shake in my voice is annoying.
“Hello, Wildcat.”
Spider’s low, growled voice heats my insides, creating a feeling not unlike the dizzying rise of adrenaline that hits right at the start of a mounting orgasm.
“Why did you take so long to answer?” The possessive warning in his tone makes me shiver.
I swallow.
“Answer me.”
Not about to admit how much the man unbalances me, I force my voice to at least sound calm. “Because I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Is that so?” There’s a soft blowing sound, and I realize he’s exhaling a drag from a cigarette.
My mind fills with an unwilling image of him sitting on his bike, looking sexy and perfect as ever. My heart twangs with awareness of his prolonged absence. I banish the image.
“Did Pip give you the package I sent for you?”
“Yes,” I mutter, glaring at it. “What is that thing, anyway?”
“Something you and I are going to have a little fun with when I get back.”
I suppress a frustrated sigh. Asking again is pointless. The inflection in his tone tells me he’s enjoying toying with me too much to let the opportunity slip through his fingers so easily.
Tossing the box on the bed, I lower myself onto the side of the mattress. After almost a week since he whipped me, my backside isn’t nearly as sore as it was that first morning after, but it still stings a little if I’m not careful when I sit. I can sleep on my back now, but only if I don’t move around.
“When are you coming back, Spider?”
“Why? Do you miss me, Wildcat?”
Oh, this man is infuriating. The urge to hurt him rises up, surprisingly sharp. “Not even a little. It’s been nice without you here.”
He snorts. “You fucking liar.” His tone drips with delight.
“What do you want, Spider?”
“You’re in a bitchy mood today, aren’t you?”
Indignation pricks me. The last time I’d seen him, I’d almost been shot, Gary nearly gave me a concussion, and Spider had the gall to behave as if I did something wrong. And now he’s spent almost a week off doing who knows what. He’s probably been off slaking his lust with every woman he sees between who knows what acts of violence in the name of the club. I force myself not to rise to his bait and say nothing.
“Lie down on the bed,” Spider orders.
“Why?”
“Do you want me to spank you when I get back?”
I gulp at the thought of his palm crashing down on my already bruised backside. “No.”
“Then do as I tell you.”
I sigh and lie across the mattress on my stomach.
“On your back, Emma.”
I lift my shoulders. “How the heck do you know I’m not already on my back?”
“Because you sound a little too comfortable. Your ass can’t be complexly healed yet. Now roll the fuck over.”
I growl my anger and roll carefully onto my back, wincing slightly as I find a comfortable position. The sting on my backside cheeks flares but eventually subsides.
He wants this. He wants to hurt me, delights in causing me pain. It hits home then that I was right. While what happened with Gary has changed things with the women, it’s done nothing to lessen Spider’s hatred of me.
“Sore?” he purrs, as if he heard my wincing.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I demand.
“Because I can.”
I mash my lips together and rake my fingers through my hair. Helplessness threatens to overwhelm me.
“I don’t understand this,” I tell him, anger sparking hotly.
“Understand what?”
“Why were you angry at me after what happened at the hospital?”
“Were you expecting a medal for your heroism?”
The sudden bitterness in his tone takes me aback. “Of course not! But you didn’t even…” I press my lips together again, unwilling to pay the heavy price of admitting the truth. I could have died, and he doesn’t even care. “Why did you stomp off like that?”
He’s silent for a long moment, long enough that I wonder if he’s hung up.
“No one endangers what’s mine, Emma. If I hadn’t had business to take care of, I’d have dragged you back to my bed and beat you until you howled for what you did.”
My throat goes dry. His voice is as frightening as the words. And yet, as much as his