Be Mine

by N. J. Young

  Something was wrong with him. That was the only explanation. Dylan had to have something wrong with him for his cock to be this hard around Carly despite the fact that his mother was in the room. He’d tried looking anywhere except at Carly, but the damn thing wouldn’t go down even when he thought about baseball, horror movies, and car engines.

  He’d even thought in detail about the canine feces samples he’d had to test that afternoon, but it didn’t make a difference. Carly Peters did it for him.

  He watched as she moved behind the bar. Her body flowed, as if her every movement was a form of poetry. Customers seemed to gravitate toward her with her easy smile. And when she spoke, her husky voice made Dylan’s cock twitch.

  Her rich chestnut hair was twisted up in a clip at the base of her graceful neck, and he longed to unclip it and run his fingers through it. He’d imagined that hair brushing his chest as Carly straddled him, that full mouth contorted in pleasure. Yeah, he’d imagined that a lot over the last week.

  His family trickled out after saying good-bye, his mom walking over to Carly who was wiping down the bar. It was almost closing time, and he wanted to take her home with him. He fisted his hands at the thought—a feeble attempt to gain some self-control. He needed to get a grip. After his money-hungry ex-girlfriend, he needed to take it slow. Coffee. He would start by asking Carly out for coffee.

  The bell of the door jingled as the last of his family trickled out. The only people left at the bar were Becca and Gray. He sat there with a full glass of water in front of him, chatting in low tones with Q as they both shot glances in Becca’s direction. Crap. His sister had driven with Foster and Linzee. She would need a ride.

  He sidled up to the bar, fully aware that Carly seemed to be doing her best to ignore him.

  “Hey, Bec,” he finally said. “You need a ride home?”

  “I can take her.” Gray turned to them almost immediately, running a hand through his dark blond hair. “I mean I have to take Q home because his car’s in the shop, so I’m heading that direction anyway.”

  Dylan frowned. That was weird. Becca’s place wasn’t at all in the same direction. “Nah, man, I’m sure you’re tired after a long day. I’ll take her—ow!” He felt a sharp kick to his left calf and looked to see his sister glaring at him. Her jaw was clenched, and her blue eyes were shooting fire at him. What the hell? He was just trying to help.

  “Dylan, you can’t take her home,” Carly’s raspy voice said sweetly as her hand reached out to cover his. Warmth spread through him at her touch. “You and I have plans, remember? You were going to take me home.”

  “I was?” He was pretty damn sure he would have remembered that. But the glares from Becca and Carly told him he’d better play along. Carly’s grip on his hand tightened as if she were trying to send him a message. Wait a second. Why was he arguing? He could take her home, and maybe get himself invited in if he offered to check on the kittens. “Right,” he finally said. “I mean I was. Going to take Carly home.”

  Q blew out the breath he seemed to be holding. “Good. It’s settled then. Carly, why don’t you go ahead and take off? I’ll lock up here.”

  A slow grin crept across her face. “You got it, boss.”

  Dylan waited while Carly went in the back to grab her coat and purse. He looked from Becca to Gray and Q. They all seemed to be shifting their eyes to each other, but none of them spoke.

  When Carly emerged, Dylan decided to let go of his thoughts of Becca. He’d stopped trying to figure out his sister long ago, and right now, she certainly wasn’t his main focus.

  Once he and Carly were in the parking lot, they walked to his car and stood in silence for a moment. Carly looked up at him. “You don’t have to take me home, you know. I do have my car.” Her breath was visible, little white puffs floating out of her mouth as she spoke.

  “Oh no, little lady.” He moved closer, backing her up against the car. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

  Her eyes flared, a flush rising in her cheeks. That was all the encouragement Dylan needed. So much for just asking her out for coffee, he thought as his head dipped, and he brushed his lips across hers.

  Chapter Six

  The touch of Dylan’s lips on hers sent tingles shooting straight through Carly. She wanted him. She wanted him so fucking much. Her lips parted in invitation, and Dylan took it. His hands reached up to cradle her face as his tongue slipped inside. Carly heard a little moan escape her as her tongue caressed his, dancing and playing. He kept a firm grasp on her face, angling her head so he could claim her mouth more deeply.

  Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him closer. But he was in control. He made that very clear. His hand moved away from her face, and she felt the clip in her hair give way as his hand tangled in it. He fisted it gently but firmly, making her gasp as he pulled her head back so he could trail kisses down her jawline. Her whole body had come alive beneath his touch.

  “Wow.” At the sound of Becca’s voice, Dylan jumped away from Carly. Fortunately, she was leaning against his car, because she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to hold herself up on her own.

  Becca walked toward them with a little grin on her face. “I didn’t know you two were…” She motioned her hand back and forth between them. “You know.”

  Dylan glared at his sister. “What do you want, Bec?”

  She rolled her eyes at him, but her smile stayed in place. “Rude! I was bringing Carly her scarf. She left it on the bar.” She handed Carly her red scarf with the little white hearts on it, the one she always liked to wear around Valentine’s Day.

  “Thanks, Becca.”

  “No problem.” She shivered. “I’m going back inside now to wait for my testosterone-filled ride home. Not that you were much help with that. Thank God Carly can take a hint.” She shot a glare at Dylan, then turned to waggle her eyebrows at Carly. “Feel free to resume your tonsil hockey. Although, might I suggest doing it someplace warmer? Isn’t your mom out of town for a couple of days, Carls? I’d be scared in that big ole ranch house all by myself.”

  “Becca!” She hissed. Her friend was a natural matchmaker, but when one of the people in question was her brother, it was just a little weird.

  “Have fun,” Becca sang in a sing-song voice as she walked back inside.

  Carly stood perfectly still wondering what to do. She wanted to leap on Dylan and finish what he’d started, but one glance at his face made her unsure of herself. He chewed on his lower lip, his eyes focused on some fixed point in the distance as if there was a war going on inside his head.

  Maybe he just wanted sex. Maybe he was trying to decide if it was worth it since she was friends with his sister. The problem was she wanted more than sex. She liked Dylan. What was it about him that made her knees go weak? Maybe this was a bad idea. If he just wanted sex, maybe she wasn’t the girl for him. Because she didn’t know if her heart could take it if he just turned around and walked away afterward.

  She blew out a breath. “Look, I’m going to go.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dylan’s head snapped up. He was blowing it. “Go? Go where?”

  “Home.” Carly looked at him like he was one big ball of confusion. “You look like you’re … distracted.”

  “I’m sorry.” He reached out to finger the scarf she held in her hands. “I was just thinking.”

  “About what exactly?”

  About how to not scare you when all I want are your legs wrapped around me. And I was thinking about what your pussy would taste like. About what it would be like to bury myself inside of you. And about how awkward things could get if this doesn’t work out. “Just, uh, wondering what the heck is going on with Becca. That’s all,” he finished weakly.

  She smiled. “You mean the sexual tension between her, Gray, and Q?”

  What? “What? What do you mean? Between the three of them?”

  She laughed, and the melodic sound had his cock straini
ng toward her. “Men can be so clueless, sometimes.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Clueless, huh?” Maybe he was clueless when it came to his sister, but right now Becca was the last thing on his mind. “That’s a disrespectful thing to say, Carly. You’d better be careful, or I might have to turn you over my knee.”

  He stepped closer to her, his voice low, and there was no mistaking the way her breath hitched when he made the silky threat.

  He grinned. She had a little submissive in her after all. If he had to guess, he’d bet she liked a little pain, too. He hadn’t missed the way she’d melted into him when he’d tugged on her hair.

  When she looked up at him through her lashes, any logical reasoning in him fled. “Well, if Gray and Q are giving Becca a ride home, it might look awkward if we’re still standing here when they leave,” Dylan said.

  “Uh, yeah, yes, it might.”

  He bit back a smile at the way her words stumbled. “I thought it might be a good idea for me to check on the kittens. And if you have Chihuahua puppies, I probably need to take a look at them, too. I could come over now if you want.”

  “Now? Um, sure. I—sure,” she said again.

  Chapter Eight

  This was crazy. Carly stood, mugs in hand, waiting for the Keurig to heat up so she could make hot chocolate. Dylan had helped her feed the kennel dogs, checked on Batgirl and her kittens, who were nuzzling away happily, and laughed with her as they played with the rambunctious Chihuahua puppies. She smiled as she heard his laughter amongst the yipping of the puppies. There was something about a man who loved animals…

  She blew out a breath as she placed a mug under the spigot and hit the button. In moments, hot chocolate started spurting out. Spurting. She folded her arms as she thought about something else she could make spurt.

  Oh, good lord, Carly, what is wrong with you?

  She’d been sure him coming over was just an excuse to get her into bed. Not that she was objecting. The way he’d kissed her, he didn’t really need an excuse. She was still so hot for him that all he’d have to do was order her to strip, and she’d be naked in about five seconds.

  But maybe she’d read him wrong. Maybe he really was just planning to come over and look at the animals. But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have left her breathless from his kisses, would he? He certainly wouldn’t have threatened to spank her. Spank her! Goodness, she could feel liquid pool in her center at the thought. She’d never been spanked before. Never even thought about it, really. But the thought of Dylan’s hands on her, of him taking control… She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more in this moment.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Carly spun around, startled by Dylan’s voice. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, holding the puppy she’d named Cupid. The massive oak table and chairs stood between them.

  “Um, um, no. No problem. I was just waiting for the Keurig.”

  Cupid yipped feverishly, squirming and straining in Carly’s direction. Dylan nuzzled the little puppy and walked around the table to hand him to Carly. “I think he wants you. I’ve never seen a puppy get attached to someone so quickly.”

  Her heart certainly melted over Cupid’s big eyes. She leaned in so he could lick her nose, but she was very aware of Dylan’s eyes on her, watching her every move. She needed to slow down. Her mind was racing away from her, and she needed to reel it in.

  Filling up Cupid’s bowl, she purposefully took her time, taking deep breaths. She took slow, measured moves when making the second cup of hot chocolate. And she counted backward from five hundred … in multiples of three. Yes, she needed to focus on anything else except Dylan.

  Dylan. She picked up the mugs and turned to face him. He’d sat in one of the kitchen chairs and was leaning down to pet Batgirl. How was he so fucking gorgeous? His blue eyes seemed to radiate with intensity. As he looked up at her, she saw the same heat in those eyes that she’d seen earlier when he kissed her. His dark hair was mussed. He looked like he probably needed it cut. It curled almost to his collar, and one silky lock fell over his forehead. The sleeves of his button-down gray shirt were rolled up to his elbows revealing muscular forearms. She’d bet he was muscular everywhere.

  “You want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” He got up and stepped toward her until he was taking up her personal space. He even smelled delicious, spicy and sweet. She had an urge to sweep her tongue along his stubbled jawline. “You’re gripping those coffee mugs so tightly, I’m afraid they’re going to shatter in your hands.” He took the mugs from her and set them on the counter behind her. “And your face is very flushed.” He reached up and ran a thumb over her bottom lip, eliciting a little groan from her. “Tell me, Carls, what do you want?”

  Heat speared through her at his touch, and the need to taste him took over. She tentatively touched the tip of her tongue to his thumb, enjoying the little gasp he made. When he didn’t move away, she became bolder, sucking his thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, imagining it was his cock.

  “Fuck, baby.” In an instant, Dylan’s arm was around her waist, dragging her to him, and his mouth crashed down on hers. The hand he’d had on her face went behind her head, holding her to him as his tongue plunged deeper.

  She was trapped between his hips and the kitchen counter, and he pressed himself to her, making sure she felt his erection. She swore she could feel his cock pulse against her tummy. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers tangling in those silky dark waves. Her tongue danced with his, her mouth opening, accepting him as he played and nipped. But she wanted more. Needed more. She needed him.

  Suddenly, he lifted his head, a gleam in his eyes. “Hold on a second. I almost forgot something.”

  “What did you forget?” Did he mean condoms? Crap. She didn’t know if she had any. Maybe she could drive to town and— “Dylan!”

  In quick movements, he’d pulled out a kitchen chair, planted himself in it, and yanked her down over his lap.

  “What are you doing?!” She squealed, grabbing at his ankle for fear she would lose her balance, except he had a firm hand on her lower back, letting her know he was in complete control.

  Ohmigod. Her work clothes only consisted of a white blouse and black skirt that fell just above the knee. In this position, she could feel how far up the skirt had risen, and she knew her ass was on full display. Thank God she’d worn a decent pair of panties.

  “Now, normally I don’t like underwear, but these…” He ran his hands over her black-lace-covered bottom. “These are quite nice.”

  “Dylan, what are you doing? Seriously, let me up.”

  He gave her a quick smack to her ass, causing her to gasp in surprise. “I will not let you up. I owe you a spanking, remember?”

  Oh God, he really was serious. “Yes, I remember,” she almost whispered, then yelped again at the quick smack that followed.

  “Your response should be ‘yes, Sir’.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she huffed out on a breath.

  “Good girl. Now, your safeword is red, Carly. If you want me to stop, that’s all you have to say. Now repeat your safeword for me.”

  “Red … Sir,” she quickly added. She certainly didn’t want him to stop, her hands trembling as she gripped his ankle. She’d never experienced anything like this.

  “Good. Carly, listen to me. If you get nervous and simply want me to slow down, you just have to say ‘yellow’. I can feel your hands trembling, sweetheart.” He ran a hand gently over her cheeks as he spoke. His other hand steadied her back, keeping her still. “You don’t have to worry. You’re in control. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” A calmness overcame her. She’d never experienced this before, but somehow it just felt … right.

  “Good. Now, first we need to get rid of these.” He tugged at her panties, and she stiffened slightly before lifting her hips enough that he could slide them down her legs.

  Now, her
bare ass was staring up at him. She should be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. She could hear the way his breathing had sped up. “Very nice,” he breathed. This time, when he ran a hand across her cheeks, nothing separated them. She felt her pussy grow wet at his touch. She needed him so much.

  “I’m going to give you five swats, Carly. I want you to count for me. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s six. Yes what, Carly?”

  Oh, crap. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  Before she could prepare herself, his hand left her ass, and she heard the crack before she felt it. The sting followed, but he held his hand on her where the swat had landed, caressing it into her skin. “Carly.” The warning was gentle.

  “One,” she said shakily.

  The next two smacks came in quick succession, one to each cheek. “Such a pretty shade of pink,” Dylan murmured. He rubbed the heat into her skin. It hurt, but it wasn’t painful. Another smack.

  “Four.” Okay, that one was harder. On five, she was close to saying yellow, but when Dylan kept his hand on her, it seemed as though the heat from the spanking seeped into her skin, radiating through her. Everything inside of her relaxed, and she almost felt as if she were floating.

  When he landed the last swat, she was a little sad it was over. She’d barely said “Six” when he yanked her up, her sore bottom resting on his lap as he cuddled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. She breathed him in. Nothing had ever felt so right.

  Chapter Nine

  Cradling Carly in his arms, Dylan felt the overwhelming need to protect her. Beneath her snarky exterior, he’d seen a vulnerability show through. For some reason that he couldn’t quite figure out, she seemed to seek his approval. Didn’t she know how fucking perfect she was?

  It had been so long since he had played with anyone. Not everyone understood his craving for dominance in the bedroom. When he’d tried with Julie, she’d looked at him as if he were crazy. But with Carly, he hadn’t even hesitated. With her, it had seemed natural. She clung to him, her hands shaking, and for a moment, he was worried he’d scared her. But she’d taken her spanking so beautifully.