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Aston came to stand in front of her before he dropped down to his haunches. Gosh, he was so gorgeous. He cupped her face, and she drowned in his stormy-blue eyes.
"Just give us a name, sweetheart. We’ll take care of it."
Oh, god, she couldn’t take any more of it. Her entire body was on fire. Her nipples ached to be touched. Her clit had started to pulse every time Beckett touched her, as if her body couldn’t differentiate between pain and pleasure and took everything as pleasure only.
She was losing her mind. She didn’t think it was possible, but she could feel herself getting wetter and feel the evidence of her arousal leaking onto the gray sweatpants that Beckett wore.
No, she cried on the inside. How could he not feel her wetting his clothes?
If he carried on spanking her, she was going to drench him, and that by far was worse than telling them what a mess she had gotten herself into.
"Okay, fine. I’ll talk. Just let me up."
Completely off balance, she wobbled a little when Beckett set her on her feet.
She had left such a huge stain on his sweatpants that she wanted the earth to suck her up and never return her.
"Talk, or I’ll take you back over my knee."
"Fine. But just know I don’t like your bossy attitude, your arrogance, and your outdated methods."
"Says the girl who left a puddle on my friend’s pants just from being spanked," Keaton volunteered.
There was no reason to state the damn obvious.
"About a month ago, I went out with a few of my work friends to a nightclub. We went dancing. And then there was this girl, and she bumped into me, but she said I bumped into her. Long story short, I spilled my drink down the front of her top, and she said she was going to damage my face if I didn’t pay her for the damage to her clothes.
Obviously, I insisted on paying to get it dry cleaned, despite it not being my fault, but then she told me it was going to cost me thirty thousand dollars. She thought I was rich because I had designer shoes. I tried to explain to her that I’m literally actually about thirty thousand dollars in credit card debt, but she didn’t believe me and called me a spoiled princess. So now I’m going to meet her tomorrow under a bridge; she’s going to rearrange my face, and it’s going to hurt real bad, but at least she’ll see I'm just a poor girl with good shoes. And if I have to take a beating to my face for that, then so be it," she said, swallowing her sob. She was going to be pathetic and start crying because she was shit scared.
"A girl?"
She nodded. "A girl is going to beat me up, and I’m going to take one for the team, so to speak."
"She’s not going to beat you up. You’re going to take her down."
"What? Oh no. Look, I know you know many ways to kill people, but I am not going to kill her. Are you insane? Not everything in real life is like a spy movie, okay?"
"You’re not going to kill her." Aston supplied.
"No girl of ours is going to get her ass kicked when we’re around," Keaton said. "Come on." He took her hand and dragged her along. Beckett and Aston lead the way.
"Where are we going?"
"To the basement."
"Why?"
"To teach you how to fight."
"What? Are you insane? I can’t fight. I’m unteachable. Worse, you know how people say they can’t dance because they have two left feet? Well, I can’t fight because I have two left hands, and they’re all thumbs. I have zero hand-eye coordination. Zero muscle. The last time I went to the gym was last week, when I sat in my car, ate a honeycomb, and finished a book. Once, I mistakenly hit the wall with my knuckles when I was trying to open a jar, and my hand swelled to twice its size. True story. The doctor couldn’t believe I had done that tomyself.I’m a walking health hazard in heels. I’m—"
They had reached the basement, and Rayne’s eyes widened. It was huge and equipped with every kind of death contraption, or what other people considered exercise machinery. In the middle was a massive, padded boxing ring.
"I have a better chance of talking her to death than learning how to throw a punch to knock her out." She turned around and made her way out.
But they weren’t having it. Beckett caught her around the waist and carried her into the ring.
"Okay look. I can’t learn anything in this short amount of time. I’m going to need six years at least. Just let me go and get my face rearranged."
