Page 63 of Sunshine
“You let me down right now, you asshole!” She hollers and continues with other colorful insults—some, admittedly, I’ll have to look up later, until we get to the cottage, and I dump her onto her bed. Her face is red, her eyes hard and her fists balled tight.
“Quit your hollerin’ and go back to sleep, woman! I knew you weren’t a morning person, but this is ridiculous.” I turn, my boots clomping out of her room, but just as I turn the corner a pillow flies at me. And not one of those synthetic ones either. It’s old, made of feathers, and heavy enough to piss me off.
Spinning back, I make it to the bed in two long strides. Grabbing her, I sit on the bed and simultaneously yank her across my lap. Swatting her squirming ass with fervor, I don’t lecture, I don’t speak at all. Mostly because I have no clue what to say. And anything I do say might scare her even more.
When she keeps fighting me, I grab her hairbrush off the nightstand. It’s not one of those cheap plastic ones either. It’s wood and make a damn good sound when it bounces off her ass. She screams at me, but I don’t stop. Instead, I wrap a leg over her and pin her down tighter. I even manage to wrestle down her tights and underwear.
The swats echo, loud and sharp, but she stops fighting. The former hellcat in my arms slumps defeatedly over my lap. I slow the pace of my swinging arm, listening hard for the sound of crying, but there’s only silence. She’s holding her breath again. Her ass is red, and she’s clearly had enough, so I set the brush back on the nightstand.
Rubbing her hot bottom for a moment, I say, “I’m mad as hell, Sunshine. But that’s not why I spanked you. I did it because you’re your own worst enemy. I care about you. And no matter how much you fight me, I’m not changing my mind.” I yank her up, pulling her into my arms. She’s stiff and refuses to return my hug, but she’s at least breathing again.
“You can’t push me away.” I tug her back from me so I can look at her face.
Her jaw ticks and her eyes pierce me with daggers, but I kiss her, hard, showing her all my frustration, and care. She softens after a few seconds and even starts to moan against my mouth.
My cock is hard, my gut tight with want, but I end the kiss.
Rising, I give her a hard look, and then I walk out, because if I don’t, I’ll make love to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Tess
I’m too tired and achey — good achey, sexy achey— to do anything after Case leaves, so I peel off my clothes, crawl into bed and fall asleep almost instantly. Nightmares of my past mingling with Case and Mack fade into nonsensical images in my mind, so I’m happy when the scratching sound at the end of my bed wakes me a little later.
I peel one eye open and see Jake perched on the footboard, pecking and scratching gently at the intricately carved wood.Tucking my feet up a safer distance from Jake’s beak, I decide I’m not ready to leave my cocoon. The movement stretches the skin on my bottom, reminding me of Case’s manhandling earlier. My bottom both burns and aches, but the feeling ignites a hotter fire inside my core.
Case, his words and his dominant display, play in my mind. The way he said he cared, that I couldn’t push him away — the way he took charge and was able to pin me, taking total control. I moan, long and drawn out.
What’s wrong with me? Why does even thinking about it make me hot?
I reach beneath the covers, touching my bottom. It’s warm and tender but just the simple touch ignites a fierce need in me, making my pussy spasm. I slip my hand between my thighs. I’m wet, soaked even.
My swollen nub pulses, begging for attention, but I don’t touch myself. Not when there’s a chicken standing at the end of the bed. I peek at Jake, his head cocks to the side as if he knows what I’m thinking.
“Go away, bird.”
He blinks and I narrow my eyes on him, my imagination running wild with what he might be thinking.
I protected you from him. And I’m getting the boot while he’s living rent-free in your filthy fantasies? I’m just saying, an apple slice and some spaghetti noodles go a long way, author-lady.
I groan at my ridiculousness. I should be thinking about what a jerk I was to Case, not what the damn chicken is thinking.
I was mean to Case, so I shouldn’t feel so sexually charged, but I do. I need to apologize, make it up to him. That’s what I need to be using my imagination for.
Jake hops off the footboard and gets right up in my face, digging at the blankets with his toes. I pull the covers over my head but there’s no stopping the bastard. He suddenly cock-a-doodles or whatever roosters do, so loud I have to cover my head with the pillow.
“Jake, for heaven’s sake!” I yell at the bird removing the pillow to see his smooth white feathers fluff indignantly. “I’m up!”
I moan as I rise, enjoying the feel of my tender rear as I sit on the side of the bed. I glance at the hairbrush on the nightstand and my gut instantly flips. Heat creeps up my neck to my face and the throbbing in my clit increases.
Standing, I turn my head and look at my backside in the mirror. My bottom is a rosy pink and to me it looks beautiful. I hiss automatically when I give it another test squeeze, but the bruisey feeling further engorges my clit. It’s something like having sore muscles after an intense workout; it hurts so good.
I frown down at the bird. His head is cocked, and one beady black eye is staring at me. If he were human, I’d say he was being a judgmental prick, but he’s a bird. A fucking bird with a pea-sized brain cannot be judgey.
I growl and grab my robe, shooing the living alarm clock out of the bedroom and down the hall.He zig-zags and scoots right through the flap door with a squawk that I’m pretty sure was rude in chicken language.
“Eff you too, you mother-clucker.”
