Chapter 11
Ford
Violet was seriously pressing my buttons.
At first, it was pretty obvious she was just pissed about the situation.
Violet was fiercely independent, used to her own space, and I wasn’t about to indulge that defiant behavior.
If making me miserable was her plan, fine.
I’d handled far worse in my years as a bodyguard and my time in the military, and I wasn’t about to lose my composure because she was throwing a little tantrum.
But at some point over the week something shifted. What had started out as anger at the situation slowly, over the course of a few days, turned into what felt like a challenge in the way she taunted and goaded me. Something…more deliberate in the way she tried to rile me up.
I wasn’t sure if I was right about her motives at first. Initially I thought maybe she was finally adjusting to my presence even though Violet clearly thought that maintaining a 24/7 bodyguard was over the top when no other incidents had occurred.
Or, maybe she was just growing tired of her constant rebellion with no reaction from me.
It had to be exhausting always being on the offensive.
But then she started elevating the way she provoked me, and when things started taking on a more sexual connotation I was pretty damn sure I knew where this was going and what she wanted.
Initially, I ignored her attempts, but when she showed up wearing that ridiculous little sleep shirt at the table—thin, clingy, the kind someone wears only when they want to attract someone’s attention—I stopped pretending I didn’t notice.
Admittedly, that shirt did something to me. It was casual enough to pretend innocence and intimate enough to be a come-on. It showed more than it covered. Her nipples made tiny, dark silhouettes against the fabric, and the hem barely skimmed the swell of her delectable ass.
Violet had been clear after our one time at The Players Club. One night, no strings. No aftercare, no repeats. I’d tried to honor those boundaries she’d established—tried to move on—but finding anyone else who gave me the level of sexual satisfaction Violet had proved to be my problem, not hers.
I loved taming a brat—it was my kink—and this woman was brat-personified.
She pushed, she tested, she fought me at every turn, and instead of frustrating me, it lit me up and made my cock ache.
Every eye roll, every smirk, every deliberate act of rebellion felt like she was tailor-made to challenge me.
She didn’t see it yet, but she was the perfect fit for the way I craved control.
And that constant opposition of hers…it was the ultimate invitation.
As much as she tried to frame it as resistance, I knew in my bones her willful nature was exactly what drew us both back to that need for me to dominate, and for her to physically surrender to my demands.
Violet was built for me, even if she’d rather chew glass than admit it.
She’d given me a glimpse of that sweet submission at The Players Club, and it had left me hungry for more.
Seeing her yield, even for a moment, had been like striking gold—rare, unexpected, and addictive.
It showed me there was more under all those sharp edges of hers.
Violet wanted to be seen, wanted to be pushed past the walls she erected around me, even if she’d never say so.
So, if we were going to do this again, it would be on my terms. I’d make her pay for the week of rebellious stunts and all the ways she’d blatantly teased me by teaching her that there was a price to pay for her provocations.
All those quiet but intentional challenges she’d issued, including her most recent antic of masturbating in her bedroom with a vibrator, loud enough for me to hear through the thin walls the buzz of the device and her moaning my name when she came?
Well, I was about to collect on every single one of those unspoken dares.
She was going to learn that good girls got fucked and defiant brats got punished.
The next day Violet was off from work and she slept in. I was up early, as always, and it gave me time to plan exactly how I intended to teach her a lesson and enforce her obedience.
It was after eleven o’clock in the morning when she finally emerged, hair disheveled and that t-shirt tempting me beyond reason.
She made herself a cup of coffee, and I sat in the living room watching a crime documentary while she ate breakfast, no words exchanged after how we’d parted ways the night before.
I waited until she showered and changed and returned to the living room in a pair of faded, worn jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt that read, I don’t have an attitude problem, I have a personality you can’t handle.
I didn’t doubt it was for my benefit and I would have chuckled if I wasn’t about to show her who set the rules around here, in a way that was going to really test that attitude of hers.
She returned to the living room, ready to grab the TV remote and start another afternoon of baiting me. I stood up from the couch and intercepted her.
“Not today,” I said, my voice steady and low. “I’ve got something planned for us.”
Her brows shot up. “Us? Since when do I need you planning my day?”
“Since you spent the last week trying to push me past my limit,” I said, closing the space between us, eyes locked on hers. “I’ve let all your antics slide long enough, and now it’s time you learn what happens when you forget who’s in charge here.”
Her expression betrayed her for half a second—eyes brightening, that tiny, almost startled inhale of breath—before she caught herself and instead tilted her chin up and crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Oh, let me guess. Another lecture? Or do you hand out detention slips now, too, for bad behavior?”
I let a slow smile curve my mouth. “No detention, sweetheart. I hand out lessons. And you’re about to get one you won’t forget.” I scooped up my car keys from the coffee table. “Let’s see how well you follow this first order. Get in the car. Now.”
Oh, yeah, she bristled, and her eyes flared with that arousing obstinance that made my cock twitch.
“Make me,” she sassed.
I’d been prepared for her resistance and didn’t hesitate to call her bluff. In one smooth, unexpected move I picked her up and hefted her over my shoulder, fireman style.
Violet cried out in surprise. “What the—Ford!” She thumped her fists against my back, more indignation than a real fight. “I swear to god, if you don’t put me down—”
I gave her a firm swat on the curve of her ass, just enough to sting and shock her into stillness. “You’ll do what, Violet?”
She went quiet for a beat, then huffed, the sound equal parts outrage and…something else. Something I wasn’t supposed to hear…that this dominant part of me excited her. “You can’t just keep hauling me around like a caveman!”
“You dared me to make you get in the car,” I said, striding toward the door, keys jangling in my free hand. “I’m done ignoring your dares and challenges. Today you’re going to be taking orders from me, not the other way around.”
I felt the shift in her body, tension giving way to reluctant acceptance, her hands curling against my back instead of pounding petulantly. “Fine,” she muttered, clearly not happy that she was acquiescing to me. “You win. Just…put me down.”
I stopped and let her feet touch the floor, but I didn’t step back. I kept my hands firm on her waist, holding her in place until she looked up at me, her cheeks flushed, eyes flashing with equal parts annoyance and something undeniably close to excitement.
“That’s better,” I said, treating her to a bit of praise. “Now, we’re going to the car. On your feet. Willingly this time, right?”
Her lips parted, ready with another comeback, but instead she blew out a sharp breath and gave me her trademark glare instead. “This isn’t over.”
I leaned in, smirking. “You’re right about that. We’re just getting started.”
Violet put on her shoes, grabbed her phone, and stalked to the front door, muttering under her breath as she yanked it open. I followed her to my vehicle and she slid into the passenger seat with an exaggerated, and annoyed, huff. “Happy now?”
“Getting there,” I said, right before I shut her door for her.
I circled the hood, got behind the wheel, and started the engine.
“Whatever this is, I didn’t agree to it,” she said, still fighting me when I knew how flimsy that argument was becoming. “You know this is kidnapping, right?”
I glanced at her, amused. “If it were kidnapping, you’d be in the trunk.”
“Very funny. Where are you taking me?” she demanded to know.
I pulled away from the curb and drove toward Summerlin. “You’ll see.”
That’s all I gave her, knowing she’d figure out our destination soon enough.
Violet remained quiet during the drive, but I saw the recognition dawning on her face as she glanced at the passing streets, the familiar route, and then back to me.
“You’re taking me to the club?” Her tone was incredulous, but the spark of anticipation I saw in her eyes betrayed her indignation.
“Yep,” I said, no explanation needed.
No doubt about it, her realization heightened the awareness between us and by the time we pulled up to the club the air felt rife with sexual tension.
She didn’t rebel, didn’t resist, didn’t demand I take her back home as I led her inside.
That reaction told me everything I needed to know…
that I’d made the right decision bringing her back here.
She was about to learn what happened when she pushed the wrong man—or in this case, the right man for her—and I couldn’t wait to educate her.