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“Thank you,” I say with a clipped tone, even if I blush. “And I was not trying toseduceyou to let me go to The Slipper. Because I don’t need you tolet medo anything.”
His jaw ticks. “This is beginning to sound an awful lot like ‘Noel, please bend me over this desk and spank my ass red for being such a brat,’ you know.”
My face burns hotly. My thighs squeeze together.
“Well?”
His eyes blaze into me, the muscles in his neck rippling.
“Go see your friend. You’ll get your punishment when you get back.”
Disappointment sinks into me. I just got what I wanted, but it turns out, it’s only half of what Ireallywanted.
I slide off the desk.
“Okay, fine, I guess. If you don’t have it in you to—”
I gasp, moaning as he surges out of his chair, bends me hard over the edge of the desk, and yanks my skirt up. My panties drop next, and I cry in ecstasy as his palm slaps against my bare ass.
“There’ll be ten.”
I groan, squirming in anticipation.
“Count them.”
“Yes, sir.”
An hour and a half later—afterten spanks led to me on my knees on his desk chair while Noel fucked me silly from behind—I’m in the backseat of the Bentley headed to The Glass Slipper. Liam’s driving, of course, but I’ve got the partition raised as I touch Jacob’s number.
“Congratulations,” he chuckles, wheezing into the phone and then coughing.
My brow furrows. “Jacob—”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he grunts, clearing his throat. “Honestly, I’m fine, Ella. Just some lingering shortness of breath from the accident.”
Accidentmakes it sound so casual. So benign. I also wasn’t the one that needed the medical attention that he did. I wasn’t nearly as close to losing my life as he was. So, maybe small things like calling the attack “an accident” are his way of distancing himself from the trauma.
“How do you feel?”
“Oh, fine, fine,” he chuckles again, not coughing this time.
“But more importantly, how are you? Ella, you must be ecstatic on the Crown dropping that ridiculous case.”
I grin.
“I… yeah. It’s not really sinking in all the way. But the weight lifted feels incredible.”
He chuckles. “I’m sure.”
“You’re really doing okay?”
“Oh…” he sighs. “The physical therapy helps. I’m just a bit bored basically being cooped up in my townhouse all day and night. I get antsy when I can’t go out. But they’ve got me on this strict schedule of when I can actually be moving around. And when I am, I have to use this bloody cane.”
I make a face.
“Ugh, I’m sorry, Jacob.” I smile. “Want some company?”
He laughs.
