“No, he wasn’t. He was being horny.” There had been nothing at all friendly about the way James Glen’s hand had been ready to cup her ass. It had been a prelude to an invitation to go back to his ranch where he would have done any and all manner of nasty things to her.

James Glen had been looking for a lover for the night. Stef should know. He was desperate as hell, too. Why had he brought her back here? It was too quiet and intimate.

“Well, good for him. Maybe I should take him on. It’s been a long time for me,” Jen snarled. Her foot stomped at the floor, her face blushing in frustration. “Damn it. Stop it, Stef. Stop it now. You’re making me say things I don’t want to say.”

“I’m not making you do anything.” This was what he needed. He needed a good fight to remind him why she was a bad idea. She was a little brat who always tried to push him. She’d tried anything and everything to get her way. Maybe now she was trying to make him jealous. It was working. “You were the one making a spectacle of yourself. You were the one flirting. Tell me something. Is your taste in men really that bad? James has fucked just about every girl in southern Colorado. You really want to be one in that long line?” Her face flushed, her eyes narrowing to angry little slits. Her mouth opened, and he knew venom was just about to spew out of that pretty mouth of hers. Then it closed. Her shoulders relaxed, and her hands went, shockingly, to the waistband of her pants. He watched in a mixture of abject horror and rampaging desire as she pushed her jeans over her hips and presented that gorgeous ass to him.

“How many, Sir?” Her voice was calm, but there was a throaty, aroused quality he couldn’t mistake.

He coughed. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find air to breathe in. Her hands were pressed against the wall, her ass thrust out and prepared for the slap of his hand. She was a little awkward, but her presentation was close to perfect. Everything about her called to him, and he wasn’t sure he could refuse the invitation.

Those twin globes were beautifully round and juicy. There were two perfect dimples above her ass, calling to him to kiss the skin there. The line dividing her cheeks was a sweet arrow leading to her pussy. Of their own volition, his hands moved out to caress her ass.

Her skin was soft and hot against his fingers.

“Ten,” he heard himself say. Ten smacks. Two for letting James Glen touch her. Two for smiling at Logan. Six for leaving him. Even as he thought it, he knew he wasn’t being fair. Nothing about this was fair. His brain felt fried. The only thing he could see was her soft, white flesh. She was ready for him. She was submitting to him.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll count.” Her voice was breathy and deep. Her jeans were around her knees. They were skinny jeans, tight when she wore them, and they formed a near perfect binding now. She couldn’t move freely. Her legs were tied together as surely as if he’d wound a rope around them. If he shoved his cock in, it would be tight, so tight. He would have to fight his way in. Thrusting would be hard. He would have to force his dick in and then grind in a slow circle until she moaned and he felt her cunt vibrate around him, sucking at him, milking his cock. Then he could let go. He would spew his cum until he had nothing left. He would grind into her until he was dry and she was full, the exchange complete between them.

Fuck, he didn’t want to wear a condom with her. He hadn’t the first time and didn’t want to now. He wanted to fill her up with nothing in between them. His cock was obsessed with getting inside her bareback. He couldn’t do this. This wasn’t some sub he was training. This was Jennifer. He couldn’t send her away at the end of the weekend. He had to see her every day.

Stef tried to take a step back, his thighs coming in sharp contact with Zane’s desk.

“Is there something wrong, Sir?” Jennifer asked. She hadn’t moved from her position, but her head was turned as she attempted to look at him. “Did you change your mind? I did spend some time with the doctor. Maybe I tried to seduce him, too.” It was the smile on her face that did it.

He reached out and picked up the ruler on Zane’s desk. It was flexible metal with a corked back. He tested it against his palm and then brought it down on her ass.

Jen gasped. Her body stiffened for a moment. Stef waited for her to get back up and tell him to go to hell.

“One,” was all she said.

His cock felt like it was trying to claw its way out of his pants.

The ruler in his hand felt good, but something was off. “This is wrong.”

Now she stood, a fine sheen of moisture in her eyes. “No, Stef, don’t stop. I want it. I like it. This isn’t some lifestyle I want to live, but I love to play with you.”

Stef turned quickly, looking for what he needed. Earbuds. They were connected to Zane’s laptop, but Stef easily removed them. She wasn’t where he’d left her. “Did I tell you to move? That’s two more.

Now, give me your hands.”

She turned, hopping a little because her jeans were caught at her knees. “Sure, let me get out of these.”

“Two more for questioning me, love,” Stef said with great pleasure. Ten had been far too easy, but Jennifer seemed determined to give him more. She didn’t seem to fear him at all.

Her mouth opened, then closed, and she held her wrists out to him without another protest. He wound the earbuds’ plastic wire around her wrists, palms together. He worked quickly, winding it in a pattern that would restrict her movement, but not cut off circulation. Now that he was tying her up, a sense of calm, almost fatalistic acceptance had come over him. He should walk out the door, but he couldn’t. He needed her. He’d never needed another woman the way he needed her. She’d haunted his dreams since the day he met her.

She was an addiction, and he’d decided, just for the night, to fall off the wagon.

“I like the way those jeans keep your legs together. They make a good binding.” He picked her up and moved her to the desk. “Lean over, put your hands out, chest against the desk, ass in the air. I owe you some discipline, love.”

Discipline. Even saying the word made his cock jump. Saying the word while he contemplated Jennifer’s gorgeous ass had his breath ragged. He had to remember to stay in control.

She did as he asked, sliding seductively against the desk. Her eyes were hot as she craned her neck to look up at him. “Is that all you owe me, Sir?”

He brought the ruler down on her perfect ass. A pretty line of pink formed, and her flesh quivered. He owed her so much more than a little spanking. “What else do you want, Jennifer? What else should I give a bratty little submissive who obviously doesn’t know her place?”

A couple of hours at his feet might start to satisfy the Dom in him.

She could kneel at his feet in the studio while he worked. When he needed to relax, he’d open his pants, and she would suck his cock.

Otherwise, she would sit there, and he could stroke her while he worked.

A slow smile crossed her face, like a cat who had just found the most perfect cream. “Where’s my place, Stef?” Beside him, underneath him, with him always. But he would never let her know that. He wanted something she couldn’t give him.

He wanted something that it wasn’t fair for him to ask of her. He was a selfish bastard. If he had his way, she wouldn’t have a career at all, and she was far too talented for that. Tonight was all he could allow himself. “This is your place, Jennifer. Right here. Right now. Bound and waiting for me.”

He brought the ruler down in short arcs, spreading the spanking all across her gorgeous ass. He counted in his head because he didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice. He preferred the breathy, desperate gasps and little moans that escaped her lips. She was trying so hard to hold still for him. Her chest hitched, and her ass swayed as though anticipating the next stroke. He slowed down after stroke number five. Anticipation was part of the game.

Her skin was pink and perfect. No welts, just a nice, hot color. By the time he reached eight, her head was pressed to the desk and not a single snappy remark had come out of her mouth. She simply whimpered, and the sound went straight to his cock.

“I didn’t like that rancher’s hand on your ass, love,” he explained as he put his own hand on her warm flesh.

“Yes, Stef,” she said, a dreamy quality to her voice.

She was so submissive when it came to this. She would rail and rage at him outside of sex, but she was a little kitten when he got her pants off. The combination was intoxicating. “No more ranchers. He wouldn’t understand you anyway.”

“Yes, Stef.”

That’s what he wanted. Yes, Stef. Just yes.

His hand moved up and down, the ruler snapping back after each tap. He rained down on her until he was perfectly satisfied that she was on the edge. Her breathing was choppy, and she was trying to clutch the front of Zane’s desk with her bound hands.

Stef stopped. What was he doing? He’d lost count. He wasn’t sure how many he’d given her. Damn it. He never lost count. He was shaking as much as she was, his breath sputtering in and out of his chest. He’d come close to losing control. He could have hurt her. He hadn’t even talked about her safe word. Had he hurt her?

“Are you okay?” he heard himself ask, though he was afraid of her answer.

“No, damn it. I am not okay.” She pounded her bound hands on the desk.

His heart felt like it would fall out. This was just one of the reasons he’d stayed away from her. He couldn’t keep himself in check around her.

Jen made no attempt to get up. She wiggled her ass, pressing her legs even closer together. “Look what you did. I ache, Stef. I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll hate you for life.” The way she moved had her pussy on full display. He felt his mouth fall open as he caught sight of her wet lips. She was swollen and so wet she glistened in the low light. His hands came out. He put his left hand on her hips, steadying her, while his right hand slid through her juices. He was fascinated by the way his hand looked against her soft, pink flesh. It was a gorgeous coral color, but the juice gave it a sheen he’d love to capture on a canvas. If she were his submissive, he’d order her to spread her legs so he could paint her. He would look at her pussy until he could get its perfection just right.