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We are headed to the family cabin to meet up with everyone else after helping Duke clean my truck when I see her.
The little shit is walking along the side of the road with her back toward the oncoming traffic.
Anyone could take her!
I press on the brake, slowing the truck as we pass her to get a better look. She doesn’t even lift her head!
Anger rolls through me like never before.
My palm itches, the kind that only the feel of her reddened skin can cure. A solid spanking would certainly gain her attention.
Loosening my grip on the steering wheel, I use it as a scratching post, scrubbing my palm against it.
I’m torn about what to do. Tonight, that’ll be easy. Natural. But this? It goes against everything I have ever felt.
The sight of her small frame in my side mirror is all it takes.
I barely look at Michael before pulling sharply on the wheel, sending us into a quick U-turn.
His booming laughter fills the cab of my truck. I ignore him, along with the need to punch him in the throat.
I appreciate him not actually saying anything. Still . . . asshole.
Oblivious, Charlotte keeps walking. I swear to God, this girl.
Walking along the dirt between the wide road and the trees, Charlotte does not hear us approach until I accelerate and merge onto the dirt path, heading straight for her.
I watch as she spins, a startled look making her big doe eyes pop wide, her mouth dropping open in fright.
My cock swells.
I don’t stop the truck until it’s between her and the forest, placing her at my door. The sudden stop of the wheels sends puffs of dirt around the truck bed.
Shoving the door open, I simply glare.
Her Converses shuffle back and forth, scratching at the dirt. She meekly looks at the ground, peeking at me every few seconds as if to check if I’m still mad.
I am. With every fiber of my being.
But I know it’s not all directed at her. I’m the one who turned the truck around. I’m the one whose mind has locked itself on a target of a whole new kind.
Taking a steadying breath, I point at the ground next to me.
Charlotte reacts instantly.
She’s a natural at taking orders.
Once she has stopped in the small gap of my open door, I mimic my earlier action from our first meeting and click before pointing at the spot I want her in more harshly.
Her bottom lip disappears into her mouth, but she doesn’t argue and shuffles closer.
Her stomach is firm and flat beneath the back of my hand, which I leave pressed against her as I move it up and over her body.
Her sweater rises with my hand, baring a sliver of her tummy. By the time I get between her breasts, we’re both panting.
Her eyes flutter closed, and her lip pops out of her mouth, wet and inviting. A gasp shoots out of her tempting lips when my hand snaps around and takes hold of her neck.
I can’t take much more than this. I have never needed anyone like this.
