Chapter Four
Archer
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should’ve closed the door. I should’ve walked away and ignored the fact I even saw her, naked, in my chair, touching that pretty pink pussy.
“Fuck.” I back away from her slowly, noting the dark red handprints on her ass. “Jesus… that was fucked up. I’m sorry… you’re—”
“A tease.” She grins sweetly, the echoes of her sweet little whimpers filling my mind.
Jesus Christ. I’m going to hell. I’m going to burn in fucking hell, and I think I’d do it all again.
I can’t imagine what people in this small town would think if they knew what an old man was doing in this back office with a sweet little virgin. We’d lose the distillery, our investment, and my brothers would lose their minds.
“Get dressed. I—”
The sound of a bottle smashing catches my attention.
What the fuck?
I don’t want to deal with that right now. I want to stay locked in this room, doing filthy things to a woman I shouldn’t be touching, or at least watching her do filthy things while I memorize every fucking second.
Another smash echoes.
“Get dressed.” I brush my hand against Marin’s shoulder in some attempt to comfort her, then swing open the door and peek into the hall to see a redneck from down the street going to town behind my bar.
These fuckers won’t quit.
“I’ll be back for you. I’m going to shut the party down.”
She nods slowly, soft red lips in a natural pout as I force myself to leave the office and head into the main bar where I see the redneck handing out coupons for free beer. It’s their favorite pastime these days, reminding all the locals in my distillery where they should be drinking.
I’d love to say it’s not fucking everything up, but it is. Mullet’s bar has been an establishment since the fucking watering hole was invented. A lot of folks feel like they’re betraying an institution by drinking here and the rednecks that run the place know to prey on that.
“Hey,” I groan, shoving the mustached kid back, taking the handwritten coupons out of his hand, “this is a private party.”
“Oh, I know. I’m just reminding all these nice couples where they can come to party afterward.” I’ve never seen this kid before. He’s young, maybe in his early twenties with a trucker cap and working jeans. He looks like he moonlights at the bar after his farm chores are done.
“Actually,” a woman at the table grins nervously and slides up, “he said they have a band playing tonight. I think we’re going to go check that out.”
A band. I need a fucking band. Why didn’t we think about live music? Of course we need live music. Everyone knows live music draws people in and keeps them drinking.
The kid in the trucker cap loves this, leading the crowd of dildos and nipple clamps into the dark street toward his bar, leaving shards of glass from the broken bottle behind.
What the fuck?
I’ve gotta get a handle on these assholes. I scrub my hand down over my face, attempting to reconcile my life with reality… whatever that is these days.
How the hell did I walk in on my employee masturbating in my office? Why did I watch her? Why did I edge her on? Why did my cock grow so damn hard? Why did I spank her little ass for being a brat?
What the hell was I thinking? She’s my employee. She’s twenty-two years old. She’s a virgin. A sweet, soft, innocent, little virgin and I’m some old fucking pervert taking advantage of that innocence.
I need to get a fucking grip. It was dumb and I need to apologize, but when I finally make it back to my office, she’s gone.
Gone. Her pocketbook, her shoes, her skirt, everything but a note.
‘I messed things up tonight. I’m sorry. I should go. Thanks for the opportunity.’
My chest tightens and my fists clench. What the fuck? I shouldn’t have left her. I shouldn’t have spanked her. I shouldn’t have walked into the room to begin with.
I’m a fucking mess.
What now? I don’t even know where to find her. She wrote her city address on her employment paperwork. I know because I’m the one that allowed it. She promised to update everything when she got her rental sorted out but that was weeks ago.
Fuck!
I glance down at my swollen knuckles, frayed and bleeding from the fight with the ass pincher. God, the fight with the ass-pincher! I’d nearly forgotten about that with all the excitement tonight.
I’m really throwing a perfect game here.
I need some fucking air. I need air and a moment to jog my memory.
She must’ve told me something about her new place that will send me in the right direction.
A landmark, a restaurant, a smell, or a flower.
I know this mountain pretty well, but as I’m standing out back filtering through every conversation I’ve had with her, I realize she’s always kept her location rather vague.
Last night for instance, she told me she spent the night reading in the moonlight.
She could read in the moonlight anywhere on the mountain.
I’m fucked.
I’m halfway through a sigh when I catch the flash of something from the corner of my eye. It’s a car parked in the back lot near a row of cedar trees. The lights are off but there’s a small flashlight waving back and forth as though someone is looking for something inside the car.
Without another thought I know who’s there, and I know right now she’s coming home with me.
I stalk across the parking lot toward her tiny Corolla, and sure enough, it’s her. The sweet little brunette who was spread wide on my desk, convulsing, whining, whimpering, thirsty.
I can’t believe she’s been living in her car. This sweet, innocent, little princess has been sleeping in her fucking car!
“Hey,” I knock on the window, “what are you doing?”
A visible lump travels down her throat as she stares up at me through the dirty car window.
How the hell long has she been sleeping like this while I went back to my warm bed? Jesus!
“I’m hanging out,” she says, brushing her hair back away from her face. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming to get you out of this car. You can’t sleep out here.”
Her brows narrow. “Why not? People camp all the time up here.” Her voice is muffled by the barrier between us, and all I want to do is tear the door off the hinges, toss her over my shoulder, and take her home with me, but I’m trying to act more evolved than I actually am, especially after that weird spanking outburst. I have to show her that I’m more than just some pervert, though I can’t justify it, given my cock is getting hard at the sight of her breasts again.
“You can’t camp in town. The cops are pretty strict about that up here. But I have a huge cabin, food, a warm shower… you deserve a good night’s sleep.”
Sleep is the last thing I’m thinking about letting her have, but I need to get over that. I need to let go of whatever sick obsession that’s wormed its way into my brain, and I need to focus on what matters, which is keeping her safe.
“I also deserve a job that pays better than day bartending.”
“Which is why I told you I’d make you my new assistant. You’ll take care of all the administrative work for me, and you’ll earn a steady paycheck, but there are rules you have to follow.”
I hate that I’m still talking through this damn window.
She narrows her brows, and something about the innocence in her defiance sends another thrill of excitement through my cock.
Lord help me!
“I’m not following your rules. Plus, we already talked about this. Your brothers won’t be okay with that. I’ve seen your ledgers. They aren’t good.”
My teeth grind together. “Get out of this damn car so we can have a real conversation.”
“Or what? You going to haul me up over your shoulder and spank my ass again?”
Jesus Christ. My cock aches to fill her tiny, little, virgin holes.
“Maybe,” I groan.
“Yeah?” She bites back a grin. “What other rules have consequences?”
“Talking to other men has consequences. I told you that in my office.”
She laughs. “I remember, which is why I’m thinking I need to test it out, and see how serious you are. Plus, that redneck bar is jam-packed every night. I bet the tips are great.”
I’m not sure if she’s fucking with me or not. “You set foot near that redneck bar, I’ll do more than spank your ass.”
Who the fuck am I? Where the hell do I think I get off telling her what she can and can’t do? It’s like a fucking animal has taken over me.
She’s my… she’s not my anything.
“Ooo… ominous,” she laughs. “Honestly, I kind of want another spanking.”
God damn! I hope she’s appreciating the amount of willpower it’s taking to not lose control right now!
“What do you mean you liked it? Open the door, princess.”
For a moment, she doesn’t speak. She sits there and stares ahead as though she’s thinking everything over. “If I go with you, I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone where I am.”
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”
“And,” she exhales slowly, “I need you to stop asking me so many questions.”
“That’s not possible. If you’re in trouble, I need to know.”
“Then I can’t go with you.” She rolls her window back up and puts the car in drive, rolling forward slowly.
Stubborn. Stubborn little tease.
“Fine,” I tap the hood of her car, “I won’t ask you any questions if you promise me you’ll stay away from that redneck bar. Just come home with me. I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here.”
Slowly, her brown eyes lift, and I have a feeling that tonight I’ll have her pretty little head on a pillow in the room across from mine.
I’ll have her in a tiny little nightgown bouncing around the house.
I’ll have her come on my sheets, her scent in my hallways, the sounds of her desperate moans echoing between my walls.
Jesus. I’m not okay.
Her door cracks open and her bare leg slides out, my cock growing harder and harder as she stands and reaches for her bags in the back. I take them from her one by one, before she hands me a guitar case with stickers peeling up from the edges.
Cartoon pandas, hearts, and a cluster of butterflies with mismatched wings. I’m not sure what it is about this that throws me off, but suddenly, I’m very aware of her age.
She’s twenty-two. She still collects stickers. She’s young, curious, and horny. She doesn’t know what she’s doing yet.
I have no business touching her. No business yanking down her panties, bending her over, knowing what she tastes like. No business talking to her, holding her, making her mine.
No, this has to stay professional. I can’t risk the distillery, I can’t risk my reputation, and I certainly can’t risk my daughter’s reaction if she knew I was screwing around with a girl younger than her.
Tonight is about helping an employee. That’s all. That’s all it can ever be.