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In an embarrassingly short amount of time, his cock swelled in his hand, and white jets of his cum splattered across the window. Breaths ragged, he leaned his forehead against the cool glass and closed his eyes.
He was the worst kind of asshole. Not just because he’d so readily taken advantage of his best friend’s daughter.
But because he couldn’t wait to do it again.
* * *
LOTTIE
Report to my office this evening at seven o’clock sharp. You’ll be given a uniform and assigned a trainer after our discussion.
Glaring at her phone through puffy, tired eyes, Lottie just barely resisted the urge to throw it at the wall. He had some fucking nerve, ordering her around like that after he’d humiliated her and kicked her out of his home the night before. She was tempted to just ignore him. Master O had marked their transaction complete, and the money should be in her account any day now. Braden Elliott could go to hell, as far as she was concerned.
Just as she was giving serious consideration to the ‘throw the phone against the wall so she wouldn’t have to read his stupid message again’ plan, Frankie’s face popped up on the screen.
Shit. She hadn’t even thought about what she was going to tell Frankie. But then, if anyone would know a way out of her current predicament, it would be Francesca Legare. Blowing out a breath, Lottie hit the button to answer the call. “Hey.”
“Uh oh. Was he really that bad?” Sympathy wound its way around Frankie’s words. “Do we need to call in reinforcements?”
Reinforcements meant calling the other girls in their group, and Lottie still wasn’t quite ready to let them in on the truth of her situation. “No. Nothing like that. We never actually got to… you know.”
“Really? What happened? Do you still get the money?”
“Yes, it’s complicated, and yes.” Groaning loudly, Lottie flopped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I met the guy who bought my you-know-what at the club. And he was fucking gorgeous. But I’m pretty sure he’s in the mob or something.”
“Holy shit. This is already a hell of a story. Go on.”
“Well. He took me up to the bar area so we could have a drink, get to know each other. And then Mr. Elliott showed up.”
“Going by the tone of your voice, I’m guessing that didn’t exactly go well.”
“Not in the least.” The story came out, in halting stops and starts at first, but by the time she got to the part where Mr. Elliott had dragged her to his house for a spanking, she was practically word-vomiting in Frankie’s ear.
“And then he stuck that fucking soap in my mouth and it was so gross I just sorta reacted and I kneed him in the balls and?—”
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait. You kneed a Dom in the balls while you were in the middle of a punishment?”
Lottie let out a watery laugh and swiped at the tears she’d barely noticed streaming down her cheeks. “Out of this entire story, that’s the part you find the most outrageous?”
“Umm, yes. I’ve met Braden Elliott. You are one brave, brave girl.”
“Brave or stupid?”
There was a long pause, followed by Frankie’s loud laugh. “I’m not entirely sure. Either way, I’m in awe of you. So what happened after you kneed him?”
“He took me back out to his office and spanked me. Hard. And then he used a ruler on me.”
“Wood?”
“I think so. It looked like wood.”
“Ouch. Poor Lottie.”
“Definitely ouch. But after my spanking, he hugged me, and that was kinda nice, but then he started asking me about why I needed the money again and I kinda panicked and I might have sort of… kissed him.”
“That’s hot.” Frankie’s imitation of Paris Hilton’s famous catchphrase was dead on. “Tell me he at least got you off, even if you didn’t fuck.”
“No. That was the worst part. One minute he was kissing me back and it was fucking amazing, the next he was practically patting me on the head and telling me to run along home. It was humiliating.”
