“So when does your deal with Thorpe expire?”
He clenched his jaw. Where the hell was she going with this? “Thursday night.”
“In less than three days?”
“Yes.”
“I hope you’re prepared to miss strutting down Dominion’s halls in your leather pants, because if you think for one damn minute that I’m going to stand here like a brainless twit while you decide my whole life without ever once asking me what I want, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
So quickly that she had no time to scramble away, Logan grabbed Cherry’s wrist and pulled as he backed onto the bed and threw her facedown across his lap. Without pause, he slapped one firm cheek of her ass, barely covered by one of those little sheer dresses. She gasped, and before the sound even died, he smacked the other cheek.
“I don’t like you throwing out f-bombs. Do it again, and I’ll spank you more.”
“Fuck you!”
“Cherry, Cherry, Cherry . . .” He sighed with regret.
Even so, he couldn’t deny that this feisty side of her had him revved up. She wanted this spanking—wanted him—but her fear and her pride wouldn’t let her admit it. She was angry, and maybe she had every right to be. Maybe he should have handled his invocation of the club rule differently, told her in advance of his plans, and given her the opportunity to resolve it without involving Thorpe. But she would have only freaked out. She’d still been engaged to Brad at the time. She hadn’t been ready to hear that he wanted a lifelong claim on her.
But he’d concede that maybe he should have told her sometime between then and now.
Because he’d said he would, Logan whacked Tara’s ass twice more and held down her squirming form, trying desperately not to think about how badly he wanted inside her.
Damn. He’d bet she was dying to call him twenty kinds of asshole and let loose on him, but the spanking had curbed the worst of her tongue. They both needed to be a bit more calm.
The moment he let her up, she jerked to her feet, rage spitting from her eyes. “Don’t do that again. I’m not one of your club bunnies, waiting around for your discipline.”
“Don’t discipline you?” He stood slowly, walking toward her, crowding her personal space, almost proud when she stood her ground. “I came back into your life because I’m a Dom. Guess what? I’m still a Dom. I’m always going to be one. And I’m going to bet that, even though you’re spitting mad, your pretty little pussy is dripping wet.”
She gasped in an offended breath. “That’s low.”
“But true.”
Suddenly, she cocked her head, tightened her little fists, and glared at him through eyes narrowed with purpose. Uh-oh. What the hell was going through her head now?
“Okay, so I’m wet. I admit it. Just because you get me hot doesn’t mean that you get to decide the rest of my life. I won’t let you use my desire against me.”
Is that what she thought? Hell, he adored Cherry because she was smart and compassionate, kind. She showed the world a roaring tiger willing to fight for injustice and those weaker, but underneath that front, she was vulnerable.
No matter what he did, he managed to push her buttons. She put protective walls between them. Yeah, he could stand here and argue with her. He might actually win the battle. But he was in this fight to win the war. If that meant that he needed to back off and let her have more control, he’d do his best to stifle his need to dominate and give it to her. Because at the end of the day, he wanted her by his side because she wanted to be there. Not because he’d coerced her.
“Then help me. I keep fucking this up, and that’s not my intention. If you think I’m trying to use your desire against you to decide your life, then take control. I’ll step back. If, after this mission, you tell me to go away, then fine. I’ll go away and I won’t come back.”
Tara recoiled, her brown eyes wide and startled. Her mouth gaped open, but silence followed for a long moment until she finally said, “Thank you.”
“But not until I’m convinced that you know the difference between me trying to lead you around by your pussy and me trying to bond your heart to mine, Cherry. When I’m sure you know exactly how much love you’d be giving up, I’ll give you all the space you want.”
With an angry jerk he hoped to hell communicated that he meant business, Logan tore off his shirt.
Chapter Seventeen
WITH unblinking eyes, Tara watched Logan peel the tight black T-shirt from his body, revealing an incredible work of masculine art to her slowly. Her helpless gaze caressed the bulges of his shoulders, lingered on his meaty biceps, devoured the tight slabs of his pectorals, widened at the sight of his rippling abdomen above low-slung jeans. And the sight of that tattoo crawling up his ribs in Japanese transfixed her. Though it had to have hurt like a bitch, it was oddly beautiful on his bronzed skin.
It didn’t matter how many times she looked at Logan. Each and every time, she melted. Her heart stuttered. Her blood warmed, while her fingers itched to touch him all over. Now his gaze snared her attention. Stark and midnight blue, that stare he locked on her rooted Tara to the spot with its intensity and savagery. He was like a powder keg. Tara had a suspicion that she’d already set him off and that his fuse was burning down toward the inevitable explosion.
He reached for the snap on his jeans and flicked it open. Tara’s gaze darted down nervously as anticipation sliced through her. She shivered, swallowed.
“Nervous?”
“You won’t hurt me,” she stated with a lift of her chin.
“Ever,” he vowed. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you, Cherry.”
That fact was stamped all over his demanding stare. She backed up a step.
His low laugh resonated through her, daring, challenging—sexy as hell. “Going somewhere?”
No. Behind her a step, two at most, Tara knew she’d find her back against a wall. But in front of her was two hundred pounds plus of determined male willing to do whatever necessary to make her whimper, beg, and surrender.
The prickly part of her nature reared up. He wasn’t going to pleasure her into giving up her anger. At least not yet, damn it. She had a point.
Because sometimes the best defense was an offense, Tara crossed her arms over her chest and put on her best glare. “Why are you trying to intimidate me?”