2. Dimitri
2
DIMITRI
W hat. The. Fuck.
It takes me a second to react because I honestly can’t say anyone has taken such liberties with me in my twenty-seven years. Not once. For good reason.
What. The. Ever. Fucking. Hell ?
The kid has the gall to dart her tongue out, licking my lower lip.
I stopped smoking in fucking high school and I need a cigarette.
I’ve always known that girl was trouble. Most people, her own sister included, approach me with caution, like they know deep down what kind of man I am. Not this kid. Not from the very first.
I met her the day after her sister’s kidnapping. She smiled at me and offered me a stick of gum.
Me .
I’m not the guy people give gum to. I hadn’t even had gum for a dozen years. But I took it for what it was.
I’m good at reading people. She was a smart kid. Everyone had been smothering her, trying their best to hide the extent of what was going on, but she understood something bad had happened to her sister, and realized that I helped. She didn’t have anything to her name, but she wanted to show some gratitude. So, gum. That, I really got.
But fast forward two years and that brat is honest to god, seriously fucking kissing me .
I react on instinct, taking a fistful of her hair and tearing her off me. I don’t even think. Pinning her to the closest wall, face down, is automatic.
Fuck . She’s a cub. “Almost seventeen” sounds exactly like sixteen. What I would have done next with anyone else is out of the question. At least, most of it.
She took that kiss from me without earning it, without asking for it, and without fucking deserving it. She needs a lesson, and I’m about to give it to her.
I’ll look back on this moment and likely wish I’d handled it very differently in the future, no doubt, but there’s no thought, no rational to my reaction.
I take the hand around my sleeve and lock it behind her back. As she winces, I twist it further. Her upper body lowers itself to the marble breakfast table to escape the hold.
The kid’s wearing light, cheap PJ shorts; her ass is half hanging out of them in this position. I refrain from lowering the fabric before I bring my palm up and spank the pale cheeks. Hard .
“Ah!” she yelps.
I spank her again.
“What—” she starts to say, but I’m done listening.
“I warned you,” I grit between my teeth. “I fucking warned you, you spoiled brat. Now, count.”
“C-count?” she echoes, voice breaking as she twists her upper body to look back at me.
There are unshed tears in those big blue eyes.
Tough shit, petal.
“You’re going to get the spanking you fucking deserve,” I explain, reminding myself she’s completely new to any of this.“And you will count how out how many I give you. We’re at two.”
Something tells me I need to be myself now. I need her to see who I am, what I am, so she never, ever has the audacity to do that to me again.I’m not out of control; my actions are completely deliberate.
“T—three?”
I’m not gentle on the fourth, or the next. Even in the dim lighting, I can see her pale skin turn red under my hand. It’s going to bruise. She’s going to feel this, feel me, all day as she sits at her sister’s wedding.
My free hand falls on her ass in swift, harsh, punishing slaps, as I grip her flaming, messy, bird’s nest of a mane.
The brat has the nerve to gasp in surprise.
“That’s six. You’re getting ten, for not fucking listening to me. I warned you. Find. A. Boy .”
I punctuate the last word with a resounding swat on her butt cheek, through her thin clothing. I try not to notice it’s firm.
The brat wriggles her ass, pushing it up as she huffs a moan.
If she was anyone else, I’d rub my hands all over it, but she’s mini-Morgan. I only just came in her sister’s ass. Not to mention, and at the risk of repeating myself, she’s fucking sixteen.
In half of the world, I could legally bend her over and shove my cock right inside her. No one would blink. It would be legal in France, the UK, most of Australia, and Canada, to name a few.
I don’t know the age of consent in Hawaii. It’s not the kind of thing I’ve ever had to check. Even if it were her age, that doesn’t change anything. I’m not fucking a sixteen-year-old, however willing. I’m just not. She’s under Cam’s protection, and I like her sister. I won’t breach their trust by taking what she’s so brazenly offering.
Instead, I administer the last harsh, unyielding slaps she damn well deserves, ignoring her fucking moans as best I can, and I let her go, wrenching my gaze away from the livid pale skin.
She’s not the only one breathing hard when I’m done. I step back and flex my fingers, struggling. In this situation, I’d usually rub the girl’s ass now, before drawing her a bath, then massage her sore skin.
I can’t do that. She’s only getting the punishment, none of the rewards. My jaw flexes. There’s no denying I hate it.
Heaving, she turns on her heel, pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, and lifts her gaze up to mine.
I’m startled by what I see when our eyes meet. Her parted lips, her dilated pupils, the sheer, unapologetic desire in those bright green eyes.
Fuck .
I shake my head in disbelief. Fucking trouble. Camden, Morgan, and most likely, I, will gain a fair few gray hairs trying to manage her.
“What was that?” she breathes, her voice rough, tainted with heat.
“Another warning.” I barely recognize my voice, dark and low. “Consider yourself fortunate. I don’t often issue a second one. Stick to boys your age. ”
At least for now. They won’t be able to handle her soon enough.
“Is that my punishment if I don’t?” She has the temerity to jut her chin. “A spanking?”
I narrow my eyes at her daring, teasing tone.
This was meant to be a lesson, and I know, listening to that tone, watching her lips curving upward, that it didn’t land as intended. She learned something very different from the point I was trying to make.
“Because it’s totally worth it,” she clarifies, in case her smug expression didn’t make her opinion clear.
Never mind going gray. This girl is going to lead all of us to an early grave and dance on our tombstones.
“I’m not fucking you,” I remind her, determined to stick to those words.
I leave her in the kitchen, stopping myself from accompanying her to her door.
Because I know what would likely happen if I did, and that can’t be good for either of us.She’d push some more. And I would likely snap.
Moments ago, when I decided she needed to experience the consequences of her actions, I was completely rational. Now? Not so much. I can’t remember ever being this out of control. What the fuck?
Under the cool jets of my shower, I still shake my head at the entire episode.
She kissed me.
No one kisses me. I kiss people. Sometimes. Occasionally. Usually because I want something from them.
What does she want from me?
I struggle to sleep.
I struggle to think.
My hand is twitching throughout the wedding, the next day.
My mind isn’t my own the next week.
I learn her name after that night.
Willow. Born December 19th. She was indeed attending Cross and Roses, until last summer. Straight As, with four advance placement classes. But she got into college two years early. Several schools have rolled out the red carpet for her: Stanford, Harvard, Columbia, Rothford. She has a full ride guaranteed to all of them. Willow chose Columbia in order to stay in the city, close to her little brother.
Where Morgan’s a smart, clever little hacker, Willow Brown is brilliant, with a bright future ahead of her, and a dark past that explains why she’s drawn to the shadows.
Drawn to me.
She has a security detail she’s not aware of beginning the day after the Hunt wedding, and I receive a monthly report on everyone who gets within ten feet of her. Frankly, I’m surprised Camden didn’t organize something like that for her; but then again, she’s not directly associated with him. He likely thought no one would target him through his wife’s little sister.
She has my number—courtesy of her sister. I think she’s had it for years.
But on her seventeenth birthday, she makes use of it for the first time.
I ignore it.
I ignore it for an entire year.
Then, the next summer, I do what I must and she stops texting. I tell myself to ignore that, too.
And it works. For a while.