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"You can’t."
She stares. "What do you mean?"
I click my tongue. "You didn’t read the fine print on your employee contract, I take it."
She pales a little. "It was, uh, a standard employee thingy. The HR woman gave it to me and—"
"—you signed on the dotted line like a little lamb. Ergo"—I raise a finger—"you’re trapped."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"You’re my employee until I decide otherwise."
She scoffs. "That’s stupid. I have a choice in this."
"Do you?"
"I’m quitting your job, and I’m going to take a loan and pay back what I owe you for covering my mother’s bills at the home."
I rub my nails down the front of my shirt. "Nope."
"What do you mean, nope?"
"Just that. It’s too late to fly away. You’re well and truly caged."
"No, I’m not."
I yawn.
It has the intended effect, for splotches of color pop on her cheeks. She manages to free her arms from under my jacket and begins to unbutton it from around her shoulder.
"Don’t you dare," I warn.
She huffs. "What’re you gonna do, huh?"
"Don’t test me, Penny."
She makes a rude noise. Then shoves the jacket off her shoulders. It begins to slide off, when I close the distance to her, then pick her up, along with the jacket, and throw them both over my shoulder.
She freezes then yells, "Let me go, you neanderthal."
34
Penny
He chuckles. The bastard chuckles like it’s all a big joke. I bring my fists down on his back, but he doesn’t feel it. He turns and strides up the garden path. My cheeks flush. I wriggle and swear, then yell out because he’s spanked my ass. "Let go of me, you oaf. You uncouth knucklehead. You dumb block of—"
He clicks his tongue. "I’d be very careful what you say next."
I draw in a breath. My heart begins to race. He sounds like he’s nearing the end of his patience. Well, so am I. If he thinks he can handle me like I’m his fuck toy, he has another think coming.
But would it be so bad if he did treat me like his fuck toy? No, no, no. Stop that line of thought. Have you no pride? When it comes to this alphahole, apparently not. Aargh!
I cannot stay here without putting up a token resistance, at least. I can’t accept that he’s going to drag me off to his cave and have his way with me and—my pussy clenches. I squeeze my thighs together. He has his arm banded below my hips, so of course he feels it.
"You turned on, Little Dove?" he asks in a voice that has a hard edge but also a certain confidence inherent in it that is so, so arousing.
I swallow down the small moan that rises up my throat and scoff, "Of course not."
