“Did you tell your parents what happened?”
He continues working, still focusing on what he’s doing to his bike and not me.
“Nah. But I doubt they noticed the ones on your arm, because if they did, they definitely would’ve said something. They noticed mine though.”
He flexes his hand toward me, the blue and purple coloring clearly popping out on three of his knuckles.
“I told them when I was taking my bike apart, I messed up and smashed my hand. So, that’s what they think these bruises are from.”
“Oh, Ben. I didn’t even notice the bruises on your hand yesterday. I’m so sorry you got hurt too.”
I bend over and grab his dirty, grease slicked hand and raise it up to my mouth, gently kissing each knuckle.
“You’re too adorable. That does help…”
His arm holding the wrench drops and rests on his thigh while he stays squatted down. A mischievous expression washes over his face.
“I have bruises in other places that could use some attention too.”
I smirk and drop his hand to stand up, setting my hands on my hips for a sassier effect, not caring I just smeared oil onto my dress from them.
“Oh yeah? Where exactly are these other bruises and how did you get them? I only remember you throwing one punch and then dipping out.”
“I threw three, mind you, and it was all done to protect you. That’s an important detail.” He winks.
I blocked out to the moment when he punched Jared square in the face, practically flying off his motorcycle to come save me. Thatwaspretty hot.
“Have I left you speechless, baby?”
Heat sears in my core at his tone change and being called baby. I curl my toes, forgetting I’m wearing sandals.
He lights up in delight when he notices my feets reaction. “Good girl,” he utters roughly.
I bite my lip, a small whimper escaping as I continue getting utterly wet from this electric banter.
He drops his tools and squats up just enough, so his shoulder dips down. With one quick movement, he grabs the back of my knees and throws me over his shoulder, his arm holding my dress down as he carries me away.
“Ben! Ben! What are you doing?”
I squirm and kick my feet in the air, his shoulder digging into my stomach.
“Stay still,” he demands, giving me a sharp spank on my ass to shut me up.
He puts me down behind the back barn where we’re out of sight and immediately throws his hand up, pinningme to the cool metal siding, his other hand clinging roughly to my low back pulling me into him,hard.
“If you want me to stop at any point, tell me a word…” he pants.
I blink, confused, not sure what he means.
“What word do you want to use if I need to stop? Tell me now.”
My eyes widen in understanding and from intimidation at how intensely he’s staring at me, even with his half-gelled hair falling over his eyes. I cower underneath him but not from fear of him, but from fear of how turned on I am. He breathes heavily, his hand flexing against my back, making it seem like it’s taking everything in him to stop from pouncing on me. Fuck, what word do I use. I blurt out the first word I think of.
“Barn.”
The word barely leaves my lips before he crashes his mouth onto mine, kissing me passionately, our tongues intertwining with each other. I allow the moans to freely escape, tearing at his pants, pulling on his belt to undo it. My fingers fumble as I struggle to get it undone. Damn, I’m so clumsy.
He grabs my fingers to help me and aggressively whips the belt off all the way. He flips me around, pushing me against the siding with one arm, and spanksme with his folded belt. A sharp sting shoots through from my limbs and into my toes and fingertips, a residual throbbing lingering on my ass.
