Page 97 of That Girl is Trouble

I release her and throw another seething glare at Kat, who looks all too fucking pleased with herself.

Temper slipping, I stalk across the room, push through the back stairwell exit, and then stomp up to my apartment. I slam the door a little too hard when I get inside. Clenching my fist, I expel all the air from my lungs, working to calm the anger building in my chest.

Five deep breaths. It’s how I pull myself out of my rage. Each one brings me a little farther from that edge. It’s all I hang on to as I strip off my wet clothes.

Shirt off, I pull on a new pair of boxers and jeans, but my skin’s still damp, and the scent of beer lingers.

With a growl, I pick up my belt from the floor. I’m angrier than I should be. A small, and I mean really fucking small, part of me liked it. That Kat was so pissed when she saw another woman grinding her ass against my lap that she felt the need to exact a little vengeance. I just don’t like that I ended up wet, sticky, and smelling like a goddamn frat house.

The door of my apartment clicks open and then closed. After a moment, Kat slips into my bedroom, her attention quickly dropping to my bare chest and then lower, and I take another one of those calming breaths.

“Sorry about that,” she says with a smirk as she crosses her arms and props herself up against the doorframe.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.” I can’t help but grip the belt still dangling from my hand tighter.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“I mean next time you decide to throw a few pints of beer in my face, maybe don’t be so obvious about it.”

She pushes off the jamb, slams the door shut, and then treads towards me, arms still crossed, an infuriating smile sliding over her face. “And maybe next time some skank drops into your lap, you’ll think of this moment, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

My heart pulses in my ears, and I clench my jaw, expelling another one of those breaths that usually cool my temper. Except right now it’s not my breathing that’s chilling my anger; it’s the leather in my hand. I show my teeth when I smile back at her, and the grin she’s wearing falters.

Her eyes drop to my hand, and she tilts her head. “You wanna hurt me, Axe?”

I shake my head. “Not hurt, Kitty. Punish. I told you. You act like a brat, I treat you like one.”

Kat doesn’t back away when I stalk towards her, and even when I’m towering over her, she’s pinned in place, eyebrow arched, arms crossed. It’s the defiance in her that makes my dick hard. It’s the submission I get after that keeps me coming back for more.

“You can punish me all you want,” she says steadily, “but I’m not sorry.”

With a deep chuckle, I say, “Good, then this will be even better. Bend over, Kat. Elbows on the bed.”

She hesitates, searching my face. She’s assessing, deciding whether she’s gonna fight this or take what I want to give her.

I see the moment she submits. The tension in her body drains away, the scowl on her face slips to neutral. But the way her chest heaves belies the calm she’s trying to affect. Like I told her to, she turns and bends over, dropping her elbows to the mattress.

The belt is cool against my heated skin as I step behind her and take her in. With my free hand, I flip up her skirt so I can see that perfect ass. I snap the belt, and she flinches.

“Is this gonna hurt?” she asks.

“I would hope so. It’ll leave marks. Want me to stop?”

She looks back at me over her shoulder and shakes her head.

That’s not enough for me. I need her words. I need her to tell me she wants it. Maybe I need her to beg for it. Because shit like this? It gets Kat off. Anything that gets her heart moving, her spine tingling, her fucking adrenaline pumping. It makes her thighs clench together. I’d bet if I were to pull down that little thong of hers and slide my fingers between her legs, they’d come out soaked.

“Tell me, Kat,” I say to her. “Tell me what you want.”

“I’m not giving you that satisfaction.”

I scoff out a laugh. “Oh no? Then how many do you think, Kitty? How many reminders do you need to understand who it is you’re fucking dealing with, who you tried to humiliate tonight?”

“I didn’t—”

Slap.

Kat’s cry is guttural, and she tightens her grip on the sheets as she lets out a deep breath.

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