these men away.
But why?
I’m sure I’m on the right path but when I say the words out loud, they sound almost ridiculous. “Did you—say something? To keep the men away?”
He gives a shrug. “Maybe I did.”
So, he did scare the eligible bachelors off!
Damn him!
All my contouring and blowouts and padded bras and squeezing into uncomfortable dresses for nothing. He’s sabotaged me. Anger rises in me, burning hot. “Why would you do that, Luke?”
He gives a shrug, as if bored by the conversation, disinterested in my livelihood. “It was the right thing to do. I was doing my job and keeping the Brothers out of trouble.”
“You think I’m trouble?” My temper flares. I look for the closest weapon. The soda water sprayer. I grab it, holding it up to his face. “Tell me what you said to them. Right now. Or so help me God, you’re going to be one very wet bartender.”
He narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare, little girl.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I hold it closer to him, my hands shaking with rage. I aim it at his shirt.
“I’m warning you, Victoria. Pull that trigger and you’re going to one sorry little girl.” He raises one dark brow and his gaze is so threatening, a trill of fear shoots through me.
What would he do to me?
Nothing.
He can’t do anything to me. And he deserves a good soaking. I pull the trigger. The water shoots out, hitting him in the chest and soaking his shirt.
I give a laugh at my little prank, but when I see the look on his face, it lodges in my throat. He’s furious. I’ve crossed a line.
Setting the sprayer down, I back away from Luke, suddenly scared of him.
He grabs my arm, bringing my ear to his mouth. Leaning down, he growls, “I’m going to spank your ass, then you’re going to be one very wet bartender.”
“You’re going to—spank me?” Fear and shock run through me, a white heat covering my face. He can’t be serious, can he?
“That’s what happens to little girls that act like brats. They get their asses spanked till they’re crying and apologizing.” He tugs my arm hard, pulling me into the storeroom.
He shuts the door behind us. The other door, the one that leads to the alley where we keep the dumpsters, is cracked, letting in the cool night air. He releases my arm but before I can make a run for it, he’s got his foot propped up on a cart and me bent over his hard thigh.
It’s all happening so fast I can barely think. The only words in my mind seem to be ‘I’m going to spank your ass,’ running on repeat. When I finally wake up the connection from my brain to my tongue, I lash out. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let me go, right now!”
But I’m already hanging over his leg, my hair around my face, my toes barely reaching the floor. Being in this position, it’s so humiliating; the man has full control over me.
And he’s going to spank me like a naughty little girl.
His hand comes down on my bottom and the pain is more than I could have imagined. I’m shocked at how quickly it spreads over me. “Ow! That hurt.”
“Maybe you’ll think twice, next time you want to spray me with water.” He spanks me hard, once on both cheeks, the thin fabric of my skirt offering me little protection.
“You deserved it!” I shriek, trying to wriggle from his grasp.
He tightens his hold around my waist, making it impossible to get away. “And you deserve this.” He brings his hand down again, spanking the curves of my bottom with hard, stinging smacks.
“Ow! Please stop!” I wriggle harder, to no avail. “This is not an appropriate response to a little prank!”
“It was disrespectful.” He spanks me hard and fast, right cheek, left cheek, over and over again.
He yanks up my skirt. The cool air caresses the tops of my thighs.
“Ow! I am sorry.” And I am. But mostly because my ass is in so much pain and he’s pulled up my tiny skirt, exposing my panties. The spraying him with water part still gives me some satisfaction.
“I don’t think you’re sorry at all, little girl. Let’s get these panties down and see if we can get you to a place of regret.”
He’s going to pull my panties down? Exposing my ass and who knows what else he’ll be able to see... no way in hell can I let this happen.