“Movie in my theater is free. I’ll talk to your mom,” I assured him.

  His shoulders rose and fell with another deep sigh. “Yeah, well, the movie we are going to is free too. Gavin’s paying for it.”

  Gavin. The construction worker. What the fuck? My hands fisted at the idea of Brielle being near Gavin—or any man for that matter. Like hell was she going out with him tonight. She’d pay for even considering it. I’d spank her bare ass until it was bright red before I licked her pussy, then fucked her until we were both coming.

  I stuck my helmet back on. “I’ll talk to your mom,” I told him again, unable to sit here any longer and let Brielle think she was going somewhere with another man.

  I’d fucked her sore last night, and she was gonna go on a date with another man tonight?

  I started the bike, then drove it unnecessarily fast into the garage, then parked it. Jumping off, I looked down at the seat where Brielle had been less than twenty-four hours ago and cursed again. Grabbing my phone from my jeans, I didn’t bother texting. I called her.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounded unsure as she answered the phone.

  “Come up here,” I said, trying hard to contain my anger.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Brielle, get your ass up to my place now, or I’ll come to you,” I said through clenched teeth.

  She hesitated. “Okay,” she replied, then ended the call.

  I punched the elevator button, then stepped inside as my cock thickened in my jeans. The damn thing knew she would be here in a minute, and it was excited. Damn her magic vagina and pretty blue eyes. I was too old for this shit.

  When the elevator doors opened, I stalked into my penthouse and toward the entrance door, jerking it open just as Brielle stepped off the elevator. She paused and stared at me. She looked nervous. She should be nervous. She should be worried about her sweet little ass because I was going to spank it.

  I stepped back and waved a hand for her to enter. She came to me reluctantly. I gripped the door handle hard to keep from reaching out and grabbing her.

  Mine. That was mine. She wasn’t going to date the damn construction worker. He wasn’t going to get a taste of her pussy. I was claiming it like the goddamn caveman she’d turned me into.

  I shut the door behind me with more force than I’d meant to, and Brielle jumped and spun around and looked at me with those big, innocent eyes. As if she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Take off your shorts. Panties too,” I ordered.

  “What?” she replied, taking a step back as I took one toward her.

  “You heard me,” I said as she backed up again until her back hit the wall.

  “Dean,” she began, and I put my finger over her mouth.

  “Don’t talk. Just take off the shorts,” I demanded.

  She swallowed hard but didn’t move. “Why?” she asked in a whisper.

  I leaned down so close that our mouths were almost touching. “Because if I don’t spank your ass until you cry out, I’m going to start breaking shit,” I told her.

  “Oh,” she whispered. “You’re angry.”

  I tucked her hair behind her ear. “No. I am fucking furious,” I replied calmly. “Take off the shorts, Brielle.”

  She still didn’t move.

  Damn stubborn woman.

  “Why do you want to hit me?” she asked.

  “Spank. Not hit. It’s a spanking,” I corrected.

  “Fine then. Why do you want to spank me?” she asked.

  I reached down and slid my hand between her legs, and she gasped.

  “Because this is my pussy. I shot my load into it. Over and over again. Yet you are going to let another man take you to a movie? Take off your shorts,” I repeated.

  Understanding slowly crossed her expression. “I thought—I mean—I didn’t think …” She paused and licked her lips. “I thought that was a one-time thing.”

  Unable to wait any longer, I grabbed her shorts and jerked them down, and she yelped, startled by the sudden movement. They fell down to her ankles, and I ran a finger along the lace of her white panties.

  “I needed time to think,” I told her. “You fucked up my head.”

  I grabbed the sides of her panties and pulled hard once, ripping them loose and letting them fall down to the floor with her shorts. “I had just woken up, and my dick was hard, wanting to sink inside of you again. Women don’t get under my skin like that. It was new. Confusing. But I’ve had time to think it through.”

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  “I’m not sharing,” I warned her.

  She didn’t say anything. I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder, and she squealed in surprise.

  “Dean!” she said, hitting my back with her hands.

  I stopped at the sofa, then put her back down. I sat on the sofa, grabbing her wrist and tossing her over my lap.

  “Dean! You can’t be serious,” she said breathlessly.

  She was excited. She couldn’t cover that up.

  I ran my hands over her ass and back. She was trembling under my touch. I moved my hand up to her hair and then pulled it back until she was looking at me.

  “Mine,” I repeated, then let her hair go and raised my hand for the first swat across her soft flesh.

  She cried out, and I did the same thing to the other cheek. Both were a nice pink, and my dick throbbed. I took turns in slapping each side as her startled cries turned into moans. Pausing, I moved my hand between her legs to find her pussy soaking wet. Damn, she was perfect.

  This time, she cried out my name as I shoved my fingers inside her. She’d taken her spanking, and now, I would make her come.

  “You liked it. Naughty girl gets off on her ass getting spanked,” I said as I fingered her pussy.

  She was panting and rocking against my hand.

  “Fuck my fingers,” I said. “Come all over them.”

  She said my name as she rocked faster against my hand.

  “That’s it. Ride my hand like you’re gonna ride my cock tonight.”

  She shouted my name as her body tensed and her warm entrance squeezed my fingers. I ran my other hand over her bare ass, caressing the pink flesh where my handprint still lingered. When she calmed, I moved her so she was cradled in my arms. She closed her eyes tightly, and I smiled at the look on her face.

  “I can’t believe I did that,” she said.

  I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. “It was hot. So damn hot that you’re forgiven. Now, go break the date. Tell Greg that you’re no longer available. Ever.”

  “It’s Gavin,” she replied.

  “I don’t give a fuck if it’s God. Call that shit off.” I softened the demand by pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  She sighed against me. “Okay,” she agreed, and in that moment, all was right with the world.

  twenty-eight

  brielle

  There were some things I didn’t know how to explain to my son. My choices today were one of them. He hadn’t asked me or even been upset at the change in plans. He’d been thrilled at getting to spend time with Dean again. I could hear the drums as I finished cleaning up our dinner. They’d gone in there after we ate pizza, which had been ordered from Cam’s favorite place and delivered to Dean’s penthouse.

  I wiped down the table and loaded the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher but didn’t turn it on because there were no buttons. No controls at all. I wasn’t sure how to make it work. I’d ask Dean later. Unable to stay away any longer, I followed the sound of the music to Dean’s drum room.

  He had left the door open to it, and I wondered if that was so I could hear them or he could hear me.

  This afternoon hadn’t been what I expected from him. I had been preparing myself for him to leave town again, not for him to order me up to his penthouse and spank me. My face heated, and I bit my bottom lip at the memory.

  I stopped just before I got to the door and peeked around the corner at them. Cam was sitting on the stool, and Dean was behind him, showing him something he was calling a riff. I’d heard Cam talk about that before. Cam was completely engrossed in all Dean was saying.

  Had I never noticed how much he looked like his father when he was focused? It was unmistakable at the moment.

  I stepped back and closed my eyes.

  Dean had changed the game today. He’d made my decisions harder. Watching him with Cam made that even more difficult. There was no instruction book for how to date a rock star … or was there? I should Google that.

  Dean’s voice as he praised Cam made my heart feel as if it would explode.

  I would not cry. I would not cry.

  I took a deep breath and calmed myself before stepping into the room where I could be seen. Both sets of eyes looked up at me. I looked from Cam to Dean.

  “Mom, listen!” Cam said as he began to play what Dean had taught him.

  It was good. No, it was excellent. He had talent. I wasn’t an expert at the drums, but even I could tell he was gifted. at this.

  “The boy is going places,” Dean said, squeezing his shoulder. “I threw some advanced stuff at him just to see what he could do, and he’s a natural. It comes to him like it’s a part of him. You’re born with that. It’s not taught.”

  The lump in my throat was so big that it felt as if it could be seen by others.

  “Listen to this!” Cam said and began to play something that sounded familiar.

  It took me a moment to realize he was playing a Slacker Demon song. I lifted my eyes to Dean’s, and he was watching me. He winked, and I knew that every single shred of common sense, self-preservation, and promises I’d made to myself had all vanished.

  I had fallen in love with Dean Finlay, but it wouldn’t be a fairy tale. I knew that. The truth would change it all.

  “Ready for that movie?” Dean asked me once Cam finished.

  “What are we watching?” Cam asked.

  “Whatever you want to watch,” Dean told him.

  “Awesome,” Cam replied, standing up and handing the drumsticks to Dean.

  Cam rushed past me and headed toward the theater.

  Dean was beside me then, and his hand slipped around my waist. Then, he pressed his face into my neck and inhaled deeply. “Go take your panties off,” he whispered in my ear.

  I jerked my head around to look at him.

  “Cam will sit in the front row again. He won’t be looking to the back row to see where my hands are,” Dean whispered.

  I shook my head. I was not doing things with him while Cam was in the room.

  Dean smirked at me knowingly. “Bra then?” he asked.

  I shook my head again and shoved at his chest before walking in the direction of the theater. Although I was hoping Cam didn’t choose a long movie. My head was already in Dean’s room with him.

  Cam chose Thor, and although I enjoyed watching Chris Hemsworth as much as the next girl, I had a real-life Dean Finlay sitting beside me in the dark with his hand between my thighs. I was ready to end this torture and be alone with him.

  Cam was asleep before it was over. He had been up late last night, playing video games at Jeremy’s. I was surprised he had made it through the first half before falling asleep. When his head fell forward, Dean stood up and went to pick him up.

  I followed behind him. When Dean laid him on the guest bed, I took over, tucking him in. There was a Superman night-light, and I glanced at it, knowing this room was meant for his grandson. Dean walked to the door and waited on me. Once we were both out in the hallway, he closed the door.

  “I need a shower,” he said.

  That was not what I had expected him to say.

  “Okay,” I replied, hoping he took a quick one.

  “With you in it,” he added. “I want to fuck you under the hot water, then wash you.”

  Yes. I wanted that too.

  “Only if I can bathe you too,” I replied.

  He grabbed my hand and all but pulled me back across the penthouse to his bedroom.

  “Get naked,” he said as he closed and locked the door behind us.

  I gave him a saucy smile, then walked toward the master bathroom. Complete with the biggest shower I’d ever seen. White marble was everywhere. On the floor, the walls, the shower. I began slowly unbuttoning the top part of my shirt dress as Dean jerked his shirt off, then tossed it on the floor before moving on to his jeans.

  “Better move faster, baby, or I’m ripping it all off your hot little body,” he warned me.

  I liked my dress, and as exciting as him ripping my clothes off sounded, I was on a budget, and destroying my clothing was not in that budget. I stopped my teasing striptease and moved quicker. Dean was naked, walking over to the shower to turn on the water. I got distracted by his bare ass. It was firm and muscular. It was also tan, which meant he either lay out naked or went to a tanning bed.

  I looked up at the tattoo under his left shoulder, and memories of the first time I’d seen it came back.

  Dean turned around and caught me looking at him. “Time’s up,” he said and took three long strides to me. His hands were on my shirt dress that I hadn’t taken off completely yet.

  “No, wait,” I begged. “I like this dress.”

  He paused and then shoved it back so it slid down my arms. Then, he pushed it down over my hips, and I stepped out of it.

  “How much do you like those panties?” he asked me.

  He’d already stolen one pair and ripped another pair.

  “My panties are already dwindling because of you. Constantly replacing them is not in my budget,” I told him, grinning.

  His hands went to the sides of my panties, and he ripped them, then pulled them off me. I looked down at them, then back at him.

  “I’ll buy you all the fucking panties you want,” he said.

  Then, he grabbed me and pulled me against him, and his mouth covered mine. I went up on my tiptoes and leaned into him as his hands began to unfasten my bra. When it was loose, he stepped back and pulled it from me.

  Then, he pointed to the shower. “Get in and face the wall.”

  I did as he’d ordered and pressed my front against the marble, expecting it to be cool but surprised that it was warm already. My palms lay flat against the wall, and I turned my head to the side, watching as Dean came up behind me.

  His hand ran over my bottom. “I spanked you too hard,” he said gently. “My handprint is still there.”

  “I’m not complaining,” I said, liking the idea of his mark on me.

  “My handprint on your ass, my cum inside you,” he said, moving until his erection was against my back. “It makes my territorial tendencies with you worse.”

  “Good,” I breathed.

  I wanted him to mark me. I loved him.

  He reached down and took my leg, then placed my foot on the built-in bench beside us. I looked over my shoulder at him as he slowly pumped his cock while looking at me, open for him. I wanted to beg him to fuck me, but I waited, transfixed by how his hand looked, rubbing over his thickness.

  “Ask me for it,” he said.

  I lifted my eyes to his. He had been watching me watch him.

  “Please,” I begged.

  He shook his head. “Please what?”

  “Please give it to me,” I said, not sure exactly what it was he wanted me to say.

  “Give you what?”

  “Your cock,” I replied.

  “Good girl,” he praised, then ran his hand down my back before cupping my bottom. “I jerked off twice this afternoon, smelling you on my fingers,” he said, moving behind me until the tip of him brushed against me. “Are you sore? I’ve fucked you so much that you’ve got to be sore.”

  I shivered. “I am, but I like it.”

  He pressed inside of me but just the tip. Nothing more. “You like being sore from my dick?” he asked me in my ear.

  I nodded and panted, wanting him to do more.

  “Do you think of me when you’re walking around with a sore pussy? Do you think about how much cum I’ve filled you with?”

  I nodded again, but this time, a moan followed.

  “I want to fuck you so hard that I break it. Do you want me to break it?”

  I didn’t know what breaking it meant, but I nodded anyway.

  “God!” he hissed between his teeth as he slammed into me. “I love this pussy!” he groaned.

  His hand slipped around me, and he pressed it against my stomach, then slid it down to rub against my clit. Our wet bodies slapped together each time he entered me. I cried out from the pleasure of him filling me and touching me at the same time. It was too much. I was drowning in the sensation. Climbing to something I wasn’t sure I would survive.

  “Feel good, baby?” he asked as he pinched my clit, then rubbed it between the pads of his thumb and pointer finger.

  I moaned his name. I slapped at the wet marble under my palms. My breasts swayed with each thrust, and I wasn’t sure my legs were going to hold me when I met the explosion that was building inside of me.

  “My pussy. Mine,” he said as he began to quicken his pace.

  He shouted as the first shot of warmth filled me, and I came with him in that moment. My head fell back against his shoulder, and I jerked against his chest while my hand covered the one he was using to please me with. His arms held me up as every muscle in my body seemed to give out on me. I shivered again and whimpered as one last wave washed over me.

  His hands held my waist as he pulled out of me. I wanted to protest. When we were joined, nothing else mattered. I didn’t fear loving him, I didn’t fear the future, and I didn’t fear the truth.

  It was when the orgasm faded and my body felt cold that those things came back to me. Taunting me. Reminding me that, eventually, this would all change.