Page 82 of Whiskey Wednesdays

“Whore and cunt.”

“I’m coming over. Don’t open your door unless you know who it is. No, don’t open your door unless it’s me or your dad.” He hung up.

I set my phone down on the counter and stared at it. After finishing my cereal, I straightened up my apartment, folded some laundry, and then got ready for bed. The doorbell rang as I finished putting my laundry away.

When I let him in, Connor locked the door behind him and scanned me. “Are you all right?”

“Just annoyed and mad. What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenched and he looked up at the ceiling.

I tried again. “The tire store helped me out, and I reported it to the police. I figured it out.”

He scowled down at me.

I put my hands on my hips. “Why are you so angry?”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

His quiet voice didn’t fool me. “I didn’t call you because I handled it myself. It was my problem to solve. This isn’t about you, okay?”

“Bella, thisisabout–”

I interrupted him. “I’m the one who had my front tires slashed and filthy words scratched into my car. I’m the one who has to pay to get the tires replaced and the words buffed out.”

“You need to–” he started again.

“So excuse me if I’m not up to soothingyourtemper or makingyoufeel better. It’s been a long, shitty day and I’m tired.”

Connor stepped into my space and took hold of my arms. “Stop interrupting me. Someone told me a few months ago it’srude and annoying. And thisisabout me. Noah did the same thing to one of my cars in the same parking lot in December.”

I stared up at him as I processed this news. His large, muscular body pressed against mine, and I absently rubbed against him, then stopped when I realized what I was doing.

“Well, shit.” My anger morphed into lust.

“Yeah, ‘well, shit’ is right.”

“It’s still my car, so it’s my problem.”

He shook his head. “Bella, I know you can take care of yourself. I know you’re independent and fully capable. It drives me fucking crazy, but it’s also one of the things that drew me to you.”

I stilled in his arms. “Okay.”

“I want to be the one you call if something like this happens. Are we together?” He searched my eyes and waited for an answer.

Nodding, I relaxed against him a little. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I need to fuck you or spank you. Right now.”

When he said he needed to fuck me, my insides tightened. When he said he wanted to spank me, my insides contracted.

Rolling up on my tiptoes, I put my lips on his mouth. “How about both?”

He groaned, then slanted his head and kissed me until I was dizzy and short of breath. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me to my bedroom. The room was small, and my nightstand and double bed took up most of the space.

Connor sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me onto his lap so I straddled him. He brushed his thumb over my mouth, then ran his lips across mine again. My mouth throbbed where he’d kissed me.

“Your lips are so pink and soft. Just like your sweet pussy.”

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