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He grabs my wrists, pulling me against him. The heat of his body, his masculine scent, those green eyes, all hold me captive. He’s taller than I remember when we were dancing. Impossibly strong. I can feel the power in his hold.
Pinning my wrists like this, it’s only a sliver of his strength, of what he’s capable of.
The heat of desire kisses the soft place between my thighs.
I tear my gaze away from his, humiliated I allowed myself to be momentarily enthralled by him. Remember I’m frightened, that I need to get away.
“Get off of me,” I say, struggling against him.
“I’ll let go of you when I’m ready.” He tightens his hold. “No one trespasses on Bachman property and gets away with it. Even someone as beautiful as you.”
“Beautiful?” The word slips off my tongue before I can even stop it.
I’ve gotten comments calling me pretty. Or cute. No one’s found me beautiful. Guess that’s why I didn’t win any beauty pageants.
“Beautiful,” he says with a shake of his head. “And terribly naive.”
Naive. Innocent. Inexperienced.
I thought I was some big shot journalist and now here I am, trembling in his presence. He’s my target and I’ve lost all control. I’m the one who’s supposed to be investigating him and here I am, locked in his private chamber.
About to be punished…
A wave of nausea rocks me as I think about what that really means. The whispers I’ve heard, the endless research we’ve done, all the while only finding little bits of information. However, one thing is clear.
Bachman men spank their women.
On the ass.
Taking them over their laps like naughty little girls.
And that’s what he thinks he’s going to do to me?
I try to keep my words commanding, but they come out in a jumbled mess. “What—why—what are you planning on doing to me?”
“I think you already know.” Anger flashes in his eyes as a small, tight grin lifts the corner of his lips.
Just behind that temper there’s a hint of something else.
Desire.
He wants me.
My nipples constrict as I stare into his gaze, reading the message written there. I’m not imagining it. It’s the longing, the wanting of desire. Burning hot and bright.
He moves his hold from two hands to one, circling tightly around my wrists as he brings them above my head. My arms stretch tight, up toward the ceiling. It’s humiliating, having him imprison me with only a few fingers.
I know I’m trapped. In the air. On this plane. In this cubicle. I already know from our research that they make all their spaces soundproof.
No one will hear my cries.
Besides, the staff are all working for the family. They’re probably used to having their guests do these naughty sorts of things. This is what I wanted, right? To investigate? To find out just what sorts of kinky things go on behind closed doors?
I need to give into him, let him do what he will.
Get home safely, mission complete.
“You’ve been bad and now I’m going to spank your ass till you can’t sit down. Till your skin is cherry red and there’s tears in those pretty, innocent eyes of yours,” he growls.
