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“What?”
“You never answered my question earlier,” I remind her. “Did you finish what I started on that roof?”
She stares back at me, refusing to drop my gaze. “Yes.”
“Did you think about me while you were doing it?”
I picture Dixie’s reaction, how she’d blush and stammer, refuse to meet my gaze or answer the question.
But Gloria just nods. “So what if I did?”
“I told you not to do that,” I say, turning and walking to my truck. I unlock it and open the passenger side back door, climbing onto the seat. When I turn, I’m not surprised to find Gloria behind me, all full of fight.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do with my body,” she snaps. “Or my mind, for that matter.”
“No,” I drawl. “But you love it when I do, don’t you?”
“If I loved it, I would have obeyed.”
“Or maybe you disobeyed because you wanted the consequence.”
She pulls up and glares at me. “What’s the consequence?”
“You haven’t earned it,” I say flatly, reaching for the door.
She grabs the door before I can pull it closed, blocking the way. “How do I earn it?”
“You want to earn a punishment for your disobedience?” I ask, smirking at her. “Gloria Walton, I think you’re asking for it.”
“I am,” she says quickly. She glances around, looking scared though her face is flushed.
“Then kneel,” I say, my voice hard.
“The ground is wet,” she points out.
I laugh and lean back on my hands.
She glares at me a long moment, then clenches her jaw and lowers herself to the ground outside my truck. For a moment, neither of us move. I can hardly believe I have the queen on her knees right now. My cock stiffens at the sight of her kneeling there, waiting for instruction.
“Happy now?” she asks.
“Lick my boots,” I command.
“Fuck no,” she says. “I don’t know where those have been.”
“Then get up and leave.”
I wait for her to rise, but she doesn’t. And that’s the difference. As fucked up as this attraction thrumming betweenus is, I can still walk away. And for whatever fucked up reason, I’m beginning to realize she can’t.
She swallows, glaring daggers at me, and then leans forward.
Slowly, her eyes on mine, she pokes out her tongue and touches the tip to the toe of my boot.
“Come on, you can do better than that, Butterfly,” I taunt. “Lick it like the cum slut you are. Pretend it’s my tip and give it a good slob.”
She glowers at me like she’s going to murder me. “Fuck you.”
“Nah,” I say. “If that’s the best you can do, I’ll pass.”
