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“My truck is outside. I’m fitting to put you in it now.”
“What?” Once again, I’m propelled from my stupor. “No, Dusty. You can’t just come here and abduct me. I live here.”
“You were given a warning, Bianca. You ignored it.” I squeak and spin in a circle when he begins to skirt the counter, coming around to the back where I’m standing. There’s no escape, nowhere to run. And when he hauls me onto my toes, breathing hard against my mouth, I don’twantto escape. A dangerous feeling, to be sure. “Where is your apartment, darlin’. I’m going to bring you there and remind you what’s between us. A few hours of whining and scratching at me and you’ll come with me. As docile as a lamb.”
I gasp, shoving at his strapping shoulder with the heel of my hand. “What has gotten into you?”
“A broken heart,” he rasps.
“Dusty.” Hot, gloppy tears spring to my eyes. “Please try and understand. I live here. I don’t want to leave.”
Do I?
That clean country air tasted so sweet…
“The lady in the flower shop says women don’t know what the hell they want.” Before I can track his movements, I’m being picked up and thrown over Dusty’s shoulder. His big palm cracks down on my backside, then again, giving me two rough spanks. “Well, listen to me good, darlin’. Daddy will keep chasing you and bringing you home until you figure it out.”
* * *
For several blocks,I’m too stunned to speak.
Toxic masculinity is not supposed to turn me on.
I liked Dusty because he was sweet and humble.
But this Dusty? This side of him? I can’t pretend he isn’t putting my hormones in overdrive. I’m being kidnapped against my will and I can barely focus on anything but the way his ass flexes in those tight suit pants. I can only marvel over the loose-hipped country confidence he embodies as he carries me in a fireman hold down the avenue, stopping pedestrians in their tracks. Not one man tries to intervene or help me, which is a perfect indication of what I’m working with in the city, dating pool wise.
There isno onelike Dusty here.
He’s like Bigfoot showing up at a company picnic full of dudes in polo shirts and light beer, simply putting them all to shame. This is aman. And this man has decided to keep me.
Despite what I’m telling him I want.
I should want to kick him in the balls, but instead I’m just…relieved?
Oh no. Maybe womendon’tknow what they want?
No. Screw that. I’m not going anywheredocile as a lamb.I’m not going down without a fight. This is my home. He can’t just come here and abduct me back to his magical farm that somehow felt more like home than my own apartment.
I sniff indignantly and punch him in the butt. “Put me down, Dusty.”
“As soon as we’re in your apartment,” he drawls calmly. “I’m happy to walk in circles until you give me the address.”
“I’m not telling you!”
“I’m going to rip that little bandana off your tits as soon as we’re in the door and suck them until you scream.”
“Seventy East Nineteenth Street. Apartment 3A.”
His dark chuckle makes me frown. I punch him again in his firm, perfect butt.
I’m shaking with the erotic imagery he has put in my head. I know I should fight with him and demand he leave me alone. I know I should probably call the police or something, but as soon as we’re in my building, climbing the stairs, Dusty’s hand smooths over the curve of my bottom and squeezes, a growl emanating from his chest.
And I know I’m useless to battle this attraction.
He sets me down in front of the entrance to my apartment, flattening me against the door while he fishes my key out of my pocket, ignoring my struggles, which are half-hearted at best. I slap at his shoulders and “try” to wiggle free, but I’m also tilting my face up, hoping he kisses me—and when he does finally get the door open and plants one on me, I scale my giant like a tree, moaning into the explosive kiss, the touch of him like a breath of air after a day of inhaling soot, my heart pounding a hundred miles an hour.
Oh yeah. I’d say I’m in pretty big trouble.
