Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Paxton
I wasn’t lying when I told Hartford all she ever had to do was ask me for it. Even though we’re playing a part, nothing I’m saying to her is a lie. I’d never lie to her, and it makes me wonder if she’s telling the truth, or merely playing a part.
I push the thoughts away as I run my hand up her thigh. “Your begging makes my cock even harder, Hartford. Is that what you’re trying to do?”
“No, Professor Atwood, I just need you,” she says.
“Fuck,” I hiss, rubbing my hand on her ass. “You’ve been a bad girl, Miss Jamison.”
I don’t wait for a reply. I smack her ass. Not hard because I’m not sure what she can handle, but with enough force that she definitely feels the sting.
“Oh,” she says with surprise in her voice.
My fingers sink into her ass and I lean over her back, close to her ear. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathes out.
A possessive growl escapes me and I move back, lifting my hand and smacking her much harder this time. Her back arches, but she moans, so I continue. I slap her ass over and over, harder and harder, rubbing out the sting each time.
“This is what happens when you tease and tempt me, Miss Jamison. When you’re forbidden, but you entice me to do things I shouldn’t do.” I bring my hand down again.
Her ass is red, really red, and I almost feel bad, but a part of me isn’t acting. A part of me is punishing her for all the years of sexual tension and temptation. Doing things that lead me to believe one thing, then cutting me at the knees every damn time.
“If you want to be a cock tease, I’m going to continue to punish you like one. But if you want to finish what you started, we can talk about that,” I say, slapping her ass again.
“Ouch,” she squeals.
I close my eyes and sink my fingers into her hips. “Safe word, Hartford. Use it if you need it,” I remind her.
“I don’t need your reminder, Professor Atwood,” she says, egging me on.
I reach up and grasp her pigtails, pulling her head back. “Watch that smart mouth, Miss Jamison, because I’ve got something big I’ll make you gag on.”
“No promises, Professor Atwood.”
I use one hand to hold her pigtails, keeping her head back, and bring the other hand back down to her ass. Once again, I smack her, but this time, I pull her hair at the same time.
“You’re teasing again, Hartford,” I whisper, doing it again.
She hisses in pain and I can’t continue. She hasn’t used the safe word, but I know Hartford well enough to know she’ll take the pain before giving in. So, I push her upper body flush onto the desk, holding her down with one hand. I quickly free my incredibly hard dick.
I rub it against her red ass, and her body stiffens. “This is what you do to me. Now it’s time for you to remedy the situation.”
“How am I going to do that?” she teases, moving against me.
I reach my free hand between her legs, and her wetness covers my fingers. Damn, this is turning her on as much as it is me.
“I’m going to fuck this wet pussy until I come deep inside you.”
“Yes, please,” she begs.
Every time she begs me, it makes the fire inside me burn hotter. It also makes me want to tease her the way she’s been teasing and tempting me all these years. I position myself at her entrance and slam into her.
“Fuck,” she cries out.
I push down harder on her upper back, keeping her flat against the desk as I fuck her hard and fast. “Watch your mouth, Miss Jamison.”
She doesn’t reply, but her loud moans are enough.
Her body slides against the desk from the force I’m fucking her with, unable to control myself. “Hands on the edge of the desk, Miss Jamison. Keep yourself still,” I demand.
She does as she’s told and I circle my hips, causing her to cry out in pleasure. “Good girl.”
“Professor Atwood, this is more than I ever imagined,” she pants out.
“It’s fucking everything, Hartford. You’re everything. I can’t fight this anymore. I don’t care who knows. You’re mine now.”
“Yes, Professor Atwood, I’m yours. Please, I need relief,” she begs again.
I pull out of her and pump my dick in my free hand. “I know you do, Miss Jamison. But you’ve been teasing and tempting me for all these years and never given me what I want. So I’m going to continue fucking you, but you will not come.”
“Wait, what?” she questions, turning her head to look at me. “Are you serious?”
“I’m completely serious. You’ve left me on fire too many times, so now it’s your turn to understand how it feels to want something so badly and have it refused.”
“Paxton, please,” she begs, coming out of character.
I smack her ass and slam into her again. “Stay in character,” I command, as she cries out in both pain and pleasure. “Good girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished. You’ve proven over and over that you’re a naughty girl. This is your continued punishment.”
“Yes, Professor Atwood,” she says, sadness clear in her voice.
My heart squeezes and I want to tell her I’ll never deny her, but I don’t. I’ll make her come. I’m not cruel. But she needs to experience wanting something so intensely and being denied.
So, I continue to fuck her hard and fast. Slamming into her as deep as possible. Her moans and cries of pleasure make it difficult for me to hold off my orgasm. I’m close, but I can’t come without pleasing her.
“Fuck, Miss Jamison, you feel so good, squeezing my cock so tight.”
“It feels so good,” she cries out, her fingers digging into the edge of the desk as I drive into her.
“It makes you angry and makes your body burn, wanting something so badly that you can’t have. Doesn’t it, Hartford?”
“Yes, oh god, I want it so badly.”
“I know you do, and me denying you makes you want it even more, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she says, pushing back against me.
I smack her ass. “Do not deny me again, Hartford. If you make my cock hard, you will suck it or it will fuck you. Understand?”
Fuck, I’m so close. My body is on fire.
“I understand, Professor Atwood. If I make you hard, I will drop to my knees and suck your cock.”
I groan. “Or I’ll fuck this perfect pussy. Say it, Hartford.”
“You can fuck me whenever you want,” she shouts.
It feels real. Like she means what she’s saying. I fucking hope that’s the truth because I will put it to the test.
“Good girl,” I whisper, lifting my hand off her upper back. I reach between her legs and rub her clit as I pound into her. She screams at the contact and her pussy tightens on me. “Come with me, Miss Jamison.”
“I’m so close, Professor Atwood.”
I rub her sensitive clit as I fuck her at the same tempo. Her hips rock back against me, and I groan, holding back my release.
“Professor…Paxton,” she says, as her orgasm rips through her.
I follow right behind, my release tearing me in half.
When we both settle, I rest my chest on her back and press a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Damn, Hartford, that was fucking incredible,” I say, breathless.
She sighs. “It was spectacular.”
I pepper her shoulders and back with kisses as I pull out of her. When I stand back and look at the view in front of me—her red ass in the air with our combined releases running down her thighs—I could come all over again.
Fucking beautiful.
I softly rub my hand on her ass. “Hart, how painful is this?”
She turns her head and locks her eyes with mine. “It’s fine.”
My eyes search hers and I narrow them. “You’re lying.”
She blows out a breath, and I help her stand. “It’s sore, but I’m fine.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “I promise, Pax.”
I capture her lips, kissing her like she deserves to be kissed. Full of passion, want, and need.
When we pull away, I smile down at her. “I think Professor Atwood and Miss Jamison will need to resurface again.”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Pass the ketchup,” Brock says, during lunch at Atta Boy.
I hand it to him and he squirts a mound onto his plate.
Lunch with my brothers—minus Tripp, who is in school—happens often to discuss business.
Griffin usually tests his new recipes on us, but today he’s made Hartford’s favorite Cowboy Burger.
It’s obvious why it’s her favorite and one of our top sellers.
“I have a new recipe idea I want to run by everyone, but I’m not ready yet. It’ll be ready for tasting this weekend,” Brock says, slathering a fry with ketchup.
“Looking forward to it,” Shepherd says.
“Mark, The Smokehouse’s owner contacted me this morning,” I say, grinning. “He decided on two lines,”
“No shit? Great job,” Callum says with a proud smile. “You can sell anything to anyone.”
I nod and take a sip of beer. “Pretty much.”
I can sell anything to anyone, but I can’t seem to sell myself to Hartford.
She’s so confusing, sending mixed signals constantly.
Just when I’m sure we’re on the same page, she compliments me on what a great friend I am.
But, just like when I’m selling beer, I will continue to push until I get the result I want.
“Anya called me again,” Callum says.
I pin him with my stare. “Please tell me you guys sat down and had a discussion.”
“In my opinion, it’s a good idea,” Brock says with a shrug.
I agree and have told Callum many times, but he’s being his usual stubborn self.
“Look, she’s just out of college,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “The idea could work, but the numbers aren’t adding up right now. Maybe in a few months.”
“You need to tell her, Callum. She will be pissed, so be ready for the backlash,” I say, shaking my head.
“We’re all going to get the backlash,” Shepherd says.
He’s right about that. I’d love to push Callum into agreeing to her idea, but once he makes his mind up, it’s pointless. He’s a grouchy, nasty fucker, especially when he feels cornered.
“Hey, I made one too many burgers. Does anyone want another?” Griffin says, walking up to the table.
“No, I’m stuffed,” Brock says.
“Same, but thanks,” Shepherd says.
“I’m good. You have it,” Callum says.
“I had one already. I don’t want to toss it,” he replies.
As always, Hartford is on my mind and I turn to look at Griffin. “Wrap it up, Griff. I’ll take it to Hartford at work for her lunch.” I stand. “It’s her favorite.”
“You’re leaving?” Callum asks.
I toss my napkin down and push my chair in. “Yeah, nothing else to discuss, and I want to get this burger to Hartford while it’s still hot.”
“Bringing the wife lunch. She must’ve put out last night,” Brock says, smirking.
I go to take a swing at his smug face, but Shepherd is quicker and jumps up, pushing me back.
“Pax, chill,” he says.
“Never talk about her like that again. Joking or not, I’ll fucking rip your heart out of your chest,” I bite out over Shepherd’s shoulder.
“Brock, get to the fucking back. Now,” Callum says, standing. “Pax, get your shit together. You look ridiculous.” With that, he and Brock stomp away.
Shepherd steps back from me, and I run a hand through my hair. “Fuck.”
“Talk to her, Paxton,” Shepherd says. “Do it before you ruin more than your friendship with her.” He gives me a slap on my back before walking away.
“Here, Pax.” Griffin approaches me with an Atta Boy bag and a dip in his brows. “Everything all right?”
I take the bag from him and nod. “Yeah, it’s fine. Brock took shit too far as usual, trying to get a rise out of me.”
“Looks like it worked,” he says.
I shrug and walk backward, away from him. “Fuck off, Griff,” I say, running my free hand down my mouth.
Once I get on the road, I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. I need to let their comments roll off my back, or I need to seal this with Hartford for good. I’d much rather it be the latter.
I pull up to Hartford’s office building and snatch the bag off my passenger seat. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never thought of bringing her lunch. In fact, this is the first time I’ll be inside her office.
When I step inside the building, I’m impressed by how big it is. There are magazine covers framed all over the walls. It makes me wonder how many of them hold articles that Hartford wrote.
“Can I help you?”
I glance over to the right and see a woman standing there. “Hey, I’m looking for Hartford Jamison.”
“And you are?” she asks. She’s definitely just being nosey because I’m pretty sure she just came out of the bathroom.
“Paxton Atwood,” I reply.
Her eyes widen as she steps closer to me. “Oh, holy moly. You’re Paxton? I’ve heard so much about you. Follow me. I’ll take you to her cubicle.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
She keeps glancing up at me with a permanent smile on her face as we walk. I have no idea who she is, but she’s apparently someone that Hartford talks to about me.
“Here we are. It’s great to meet the infamous Paxton Atwood,” she says, holding her hand out.
“And you are?” I ask.
“Delia,” she says.
“Well, it’s great to meet you too, Delia. Thanks for showing me the way.”
She smiles and walks away. I knock on the door and wait.
“Come in,” Hartford says.
I open the door and she lifts her head. “Hey.” She looks back down but snaps her head back up with wide eyes. “Paxton? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?” She jumps up and moves around her desk toward me.
“Damn, look at you, all professional.”
She smiles, standing in front of me. “Thanks, I think. But, seriously, what’s wrong?”
I’m so taken aback, standing here in her world. She’s always in mine, always at the brewery. But I’ve never taken the time to step foot in hers.
Her office is spacious, with a window that lets in ample light.
Her desk has papers scattered across it and a laptop open.
Pictures of the magazine line her walls, much like when I walked into the building.
But what causes my heart to skip a beat is the picture of us sitting on a bookshelf.
It’s an old one, taken a few years ago at a friend’s wedding.
She has a picture of me in her office. A picture she looks at every single day.
“Pax?”
I snap out of my thoughts and look down at her. “I brought you lunch.” I hold the bag out to her.
“You brought me lunch?”
I shrug when she takes the bag from me. “Yeah, it’s your favorite Cowboy Burger. I thought you might be hungry.”
Her eyes soften as she looks from the bag to me. “Pax, this is so incredibly sweet.”
I grin and press a soft kiss on her cheek. “Anything for you, Hartford. You should know this by now.”
She stares at me, almost bewildered, and I smile.
Damn, this girl has no idea that she owns me.
But she will.