“Hey.” He cupped the side of her cheek. “Don’t look at me like that. I already told you what you mean to me. As long as I wear this band, there’s not going to be anybody else. Or anything else. Not even the firm. You’re first.”
“I…but you…” God, this was terrible. She absolutely didn’t want to say this, but it had to be said. If they were going to do this, there couldn’t be any doubts between them. The air had to be cleared. “But can you even trust me?”
“I never trusted you. That’s how I caught you. But that didn’t stop me from falling for you. You just need to know that if I ever, ever catch you in another lie, last week will seem like a year in paradise compared to what I’ll do to you. Understood?”
“Completely. I was going to apply-“
“No.”
“No?”
“No, you’re not going to apply anywhere. I want you to stay where I can keep an eye on you. Besides, I’m the jealous type. I don’t want to think about you…stealing from other men.”
She laughed at that. “Other men would probably just call the cops on me rather than dish out their own brand of justice.”
“That would be pretty goddamned stupid of them. Still, it’s best not to take that chance. Don’t you agree?”
“I do.”
He placed a brief kiss on her lips. “Good. It’s always best when we’re on the same page.”
She dropped her head to his chest and closed her eyes, relaxing in the comfort of his arms, matching her breath to his. The same page. Yes, that was definitely for the best. He wasn’t the first man who thought he could make an honest woman out of her, but he was the first who would be successful.
Thank You for Reading!
I hope you had as much fun reading “Blake’s Disciplinary” as I had writing it! If you enjoyed it, you may also like my other stories. Check out an excerpt from my story “The Nice Girl” available in Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories, and let me know what you think!
The Nice Girl
“Amy!” Valerie’s shrill voice cut through the din of the party and jolted me out of my memory. “I have someone you need to meet.”
“No more, Val. I’m done.”
“Just one more, and don’t leave early. Just because you’re a star reporter doesn’t mean you have to be home by ten!”
“I’ve already met two bankers, a linguist, and a voice therapist,” I whine. I look in the direction she’s pointing and see the back of man that looks vaguely familiar. Nice suit, beautiful broad shoulders and confidence oozing out of his pores. “I want to meet him.”
“Who? Mr. Evans? No, Amy. He’s not for you.”
“Why not? He looks delicious.”
“He’s new money,” Valerie whispers as if she was telling me about some shameful new disease. “His company makes engines for Formula One cars. Evans Motorsports or something. He might be solid muscle under those tight black pants and his pockets are deep, but I’m sure his brain pan is shallow. Bill only keeps him around because he likes to talk about cars.”
“Take me to him,” I demand. Strong, smiling, and with enough swagger to at least keep the yawning party interesting, he is what the doctor ordered.
“Fine,” Val pushes out her pouting lips and pulls me toward the mystery man.
“Doug Evans, I want you to meet our friend…” Val stammers as Doug interrupts her.
“Amy Rose!” He booms triumphantly.
“Do you…um…know her?” Val stumbles through an introduction as she realizes it isn’t necessary. I look at his beautiful face. Deep brown eyes, chiseled jaw and perfect smile. I know him alright.
“Irish Amy Rose , hair so red it glows!” He recites that old school taunt like he’s been saying it every day for the last ten years. I smirk and take a second look. Then it hits me. Douglas Evans. Douglas. D.
“I forgot about that,” I say with coy laughter.
“Have you forgotten me?” He asks, reaching out with his finger and drawing a D on the condensation of my white wine glass.
“No, D. Not at all.” He moves closer to me while shutting out the rest of the party, and shutting down the rest of my world. Val gets the clue and flees into the kitchen mumbling about cheese balls.
“Long, long legs. Flowing red hair. Smart and saucy. I haven’t forgotten you either, Amy.” His eyes follow the length of my body, each area catching on fire as he notices it. “Your hair is a bit darker.”
“Your clothes are a lot better,” I counter then bite my tongue. How could I be such a rude bitch to a man I’ve been fantasizing about for years? “I mean, um, you, ah, look well.”
“Oh, I am doing well,” Doug says with a smile. “Not a gutter rat anymore.”
“I didn’t mean that,” I say with fake demur.
Find out what happens next.
GET IT RIGHT NOW!
Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories
Table of Contents
Copyright
Jason pulled the black elastic band from his pocket
An excerpt from “The Nice Girl”
An Honest Woman (Erotic Romance) Page 3