Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Cocking my head to the side, I studied her posture. Crossed arms. Closed off again. I’d rather her show me vulnerability that she’d only given me a glimpse of.
“You’re still thinking about that? Interesting.” Despite the heavy topics we’d dived into, the thoughts orbiting her brain seemed to be revolving around me and the hay bale. She’d clocked me as some sort of tyrant who was here to rearrange everything she’d so carefully cultivated over the years.
Quinn had a piss-poor opinion of the way I might run things after spending only a few minutes with me in a tiny office at noon on a Tuesday. After she thoroughly soaked my slacks, socks, and shoes from the water and dirt incident, I took her advice and went shopping. Nothing fancy. A handful of t-shirts, two pairs of steel-toed boots, and a half-dozen flannels plus jeans, ones I could move in easily as I navigated the ranch.
That she’d already been vulnerable in the morning and after our conversation yesterday, spoke volumes about her. Quinn didn’t want me to see her. But I already did.
“It’s not like you’d actually do it,” she challenged as the tension between us swelled.
“Do you want to test that theory at…” I checked my watch. “...six-seventeen in the morning?” I wasn’t annoyed by the escalation. If her pushing my buttons and getting a response landed us on the same page quicker than whatever dance we were doing? So be it.
Her eyes sparkled as the sunlight grew brighter, the sun peeking over the mountains. She pursed her lips, finished her own cup of coffee then set it down with a resonating click. “I do, Callum. I really do.”
“Color me surprised, short-stack. But I’ll show you what I meant.”
Standing, I took time to roll up the sleeve of the red-and-black flannel shirt I’d thrown on this morning over my white t-shirt. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ as my forearm flexed. I liked the way she watched me. I rolled the other sleeve, tucking it at the crook of my elbow.
“Coffee and a show? I don’t see how I’m not the winner here,” she said laughing, but clearly not knowing what I had planned.
“Bend over.”
One of her eyebrows arched. “You said a hay bale. We’re in the kitchen.”
“I’m aware of where we are,” I said, tapping the center of the cherrywood table. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Whether it was bravado or some false belief that I was still bluffing, Quinn slid off the bench, parked her palms flat on the table and glanced over her shoulder.
“All that way so your torso is flush.” I motioned for her to hurry it along. We both had tasks to get to, breakfast being one of them. It wasn’t easy to handle a ranch on an empty stomach.
She cast one more smirk before complying. “Like this?”
“You think I’m not serious about the lesson. I’m absolutely determined to prove my worth. And if bending you over the nearest surface every day and repeating that lesson is what it takes…”
“I’ve had worse,” she cooed.
I thought my promise about consequences had been crystal-clear but I had a funny feeling that she thought I was going to do something intimate and naughty. Intimate? Check. But we were miles away from naughty. I trailed my fingers down her spine, starting at the nape of her neck and stopping at her tailbone. She shivered, her body relaxing under my touch. I should have clarified. Should have explained. Instead I cracked my palm off either side of her pajama-covered ass.
“Callum Parrish!” She jerked to a standing position, eyes wild and wide. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Exactly what I said I’d do. I’m teaching your bratty little mouth some respect. Get back into position.” If Quinn had been confused about the plan, she was well aware of it now. Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared, her eyes darting from my arms to my eyes again.
“You spanked me!”
“Two swats hardly constitutes a correction. It certainly doesn’t count as a spanking,” I confirmed. “Now bend.”
“I thought you… I thought you meant–”
“Did you really think I was going to fuck you over a hay bale?”
She chewed on her thumbnail as if contemplating the truth. It wasn’t the worst option if she had been thinking of a romp in the barn. Though I had a hard time believing that she thought we were going to have sex on Nana’s kitchen table. Without another word, Quinn placed herself flat again.
“Cat got your tongue, honey? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago while you were testing me.”
She seemed thoroughly humbled, but I doubted it was her natural state, at least not what she’d shown me so far. I was fairly certain that we were going to start our days like this for the foreseeable future.