Chapter 6
Ifucking love a brat. I bite my thumbnail, considering how I’m going to spank her later, but the things coming out of her mouth are keeping me entertained.
“Some free advice.” I pause, chuckling low in my throat. “Life’s easier when you stop giving a fuck.”
“If only.”
I squeeze her thigh as the gravel crunches beneath my tires, my cabin coming into view through the pines.
These thighs—I can’t wait to see them bare, wrapped around me instead of wrapped in denim.
I release her leg to press the gate button.
Metal groans as it slides open, the sound cutting through the silence.
I glance at her, heat rising in my chest at how quickly my night has turned.
Gorgeous. Witty. Full of fight. She wants to let go. To not think. To submit. I haven’t been able to play like that in a long time.
“This is a lot of security for a place in the middle of nowhere,” she says, her gaze flicking to the cameras along the fence.
“I need it.”
She arches a brow, curiosity sparking.
Maybe she wouldn’t give a shit about what I used to do, but she should. She’s too trusting of a stranger—not that I would do anything she doesn’t want to do.
What if she’s never played like this before? What if she’s looking for something else?
No way. Not this one. I fight back a smirk; she reminds me too much of others who lived for the edge. That’s why she’s in my car instead of tangled in the cheap sheets above the bar. She’s different. I haven’t been this drawn to a woman in years. We need time.
“If you gave a shit about other people,” I say, my voice dropping, “you might be too scared to be with me right now.”
“I give a shit about people,” she fires back, almost too quickly.
“I don’t think you give a shit about anyone.” I glance at her as her earlier words echo in my head—two peas in a fucked-up pod. She’s right.
This girl … I have a thousand questions, but I don’t need answers. Answers ruin the fantasy.
I park and kill the engine. “Let’s go,” I say before opening my car door and getting out. She follows, and we step inside the cabin.