Page 6 of Unexpected Sweetheart
Once the chief is off the property, I open the front door and practically throw her inside, dropping the bag at her feet. “Be gentle!” she yells, her features pinched tight as she stands in front of me, her shoulders squared in defiance.
“Gentle?” I close the door and flip the deadbolt before I stalk toward her. “You just made a fool out of me in front of the chief of police, and you want me to be gentle?”
“I just wanted to get out of here, OK? I was trying to find cell service so I could call someone to get me out of your hair. It’s obvious you don’t want me here.”
“You’re right, Lorelei,” I start. “I don’t want you here. Dealing with attitudinal wards and helping them live their best life was what my father did. Me? I’m the guy who got out of this hellhole the moment I was old enough to pave my own way. So,I don’t want to be here either.” That last part comes out as a yell and she jumps slightly. I take a breath to calm down, running my hand through my hair back and forth. “I get that you don’t want to be here either. But for the next few weeks, we’re stuck with each other. Throwing a tantrum and running away in the middle of the night just because I said no to having sex with you is just foolish and childish, and it’sexactlythe reason you’ve been sent to a place like this. You’re so spoiled and out of touch that you don’t even know how to act when you hear the word no. I have got so much on my fucking plate that I don’t have the energy to fucking deal with that, heiress. So this is how it’s gonna go—you are here to work until someone comes back to get you. If I say jump, you say how high. Now, get the hell upstairs, get in bed and sleep until I fucking wake you up in the morning.” I’m yelling again, and I swear I can see her nipples getting hard and her knees pressing together. “Don’t visit me in my room. Don’t go for walks outside at night. And don’t pull shit that has the cops dragging you back here and making the ranch look bad. Do I make myself clear?”
Her chest heaves, her eyes bright and cheeks pink as she rapidly nods. “Yes, sir,” she whispers, and fuck if I don’t love the sound of those words.Down boy.
Rory
He yelled at me. He yelled at me and my panties were soaked through by the time I got to my room.That’s new…
I’ve been yelled at before, of course. My father was very fond of telling me how disappointed in my behavior he was. But for some reason when Ryan does it, his commanding tone vibrates through my body and tingles in my core. I want him to yell at me some more.
What is going on with me?
Sleeping has been impossible. There was a throbbing sensation between my legs, and a hollowness inside me that made me so restless I could barely stay lying down. I tried rubbing at the ache to make it go away, and that helped until the climax hit and then all I wanted was more, more,more.
Something inside says that the only way that ache is ever going to leave is if Ryan takes it from me. I’m just not sure what I need to do tomakethat happen. Three weeks isn’t a long time to seduce a man who isn’t easily tempted. I threw myself at him once already, and he completely turned away a sure thing, so I’m not too keen on repeating that humiliation. And since my bravado is far greater than my experience with men, I’m not quite sure how to proceed.
I’ve never been in this situation before.
A knock startles me from my thoughts before a deep rumble of a voice speaks through the door. “Breakfast downstairs in five.”
“OK.” I don’t even need to yawn. I’m wide awake, up and dressed in a brand-new pair of jeans, a button-up shirt, and boots. I braid my hair as I race down the stairs and make it to the kitchen with thirty seconds to spare.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He gestures to my outfit with just his eyes and frowns.
“Clothes…” I play with the tie at my waist, feeling self-conscious, but I don’t know, kinda liking how unsteady and off-balance he has me. I’ve grown up with more power and confidence than I probably deserve.No onespeaks to me the way he does, and I’m reeling inside over how quickly I’ve realized that I’m willing to get down on my knees and crawl across the floor to lick his boots if he asked me to. It’s like a magic spell has been cast, and I’ve stepped into another world where he’s the ruler and all I want to do is please him. It’s insane, I recognize that. But I’m also unable to resist it. Ryan Oakley, from the moment he reprimanded me like no other has before, owns me.
“And those.” His eyes move to my boots. “What are they supposed to be?”
“Boots. They’re Lucchese.”
“They’re brand new and have a heel. You’re gonna end up crippled with blisters.”
“I can do anything in heels. And the leather of these is so soft, I doubt I’ll even get a red mark.”
He quirks his brow and moves closer, stopping right in front of me as I suck in my breath and he meets my eyes. I can feel the heat coming off his body, the manly scent on his skin and the soap from when he washed his hair. Then I suck my stomach in as his fingers brush against my skin, working the knot in my shirt loose before he buttons it all the way to my waist and tucks it into my jeans like I’m a child who can’t dress herself. The entire time, I stand there silent, almost combusting from the contact. “This isn’t a fashion parade.” His eyes move up to mine, and I swear I see a dark heat in them. “It’s cold out. We keep our shirts tucked in.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, and if I’m not mistaken, a subtle groan rumbles out of his chest.
“Sit.” He steps away then kicks the leg of a chair and it shoots out for me. “Can you ride a horse?”
“No.” I’m quick to do as I’m told, taking a seat as he drops a bowl of what looks like oatmeal in front of me.
“Eat.”
I pick up the spoon and stir it about in the sticky concoction. “Do you have honey? Or fruit?”
“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ as he turns to face me, leaning against the counter as he stands and eats, watching me like he’s daring me to argue.
I lift the spoon and slide a mouthful of flavorless goop past my lips, forcing myself to swallow it down. I’ve never been a fan of oatmeal. But if this is what Ryan wants me to eat, then I’ll choke it down to please him.
On the final mouthful, I almost gag, but I get it down, running my tongue along the seam of my lips as I look back up at him. “That was gross,” I say.
He grunts out a laugh and takes the bowl away from me, dumping it in the sink along with his and quickly washing them out. I’m wriggling in my seat, pressing my knees together because, fuck it, I love what being around this man does to me. I think he’s the first person to be completely unimpressed by me, and that just makes me want to impress him soooo bad.
