I'll show her who her daddy is.
When daddy's little girl comes into my repair shop begging for help, I agree.
With conditions.
I don't want her money.
I want her.
The pretty little girl will pay off her debts... but she'll have to get her hands a little dirty.
A standalone novel in the Hard n' Dirty series
When daddy's little girl comes into my repair shop begging for help, I agree.
With conditions.
I don't want her money.
I want her.
The pretty little girl will pay off her debts... but she'll have to get her hands a little dirty.
A standalone novel in the Hard n' Dirty series
I’m about to fuck up the rules of office etiquette so goddamned bad there will be no going back. But damn it, I mean what I say and every motherfucker who walks through the doors to this shop knows that. Even the damn customers.
Apparently, it’s time Tanya learned that.
And if I’m honest? I didn’t hire the girl for her secretarial skills.
I was maybe hoping she’d fuck up and give me a reason to punish her.
She stands in front of me now, a good head shorter than I am even with those death-defying fuck-me heels on. Her top’s tucked neatly into her skirt, and she stands erect, but there’s a smudge on her white top and a smear across the top of her nose. We’ll have a talk about appropriate office attire later. But first, we’ll talk about rules.
“Three rules,” I say, fixing her with a stern glare. “No backtalk. Nothing stupid and dangerous. And you do not enter the shop. Did you break any of my rules?”
She bites her lip and nods. “Well…yeah,” she says, looking away. I reach for her chin and bring her gaze to mine. Her lips part and her eyes are half lidded. She’s supposed to be chastened, but instead she looks like she’s ready for me to yank that skirt up and fuck her up against the desk.
I need to touch her. It breaks every rule there is about office protocol and shit, but who am I kidding? I didn’t hire her because I’m a fucking professional.
I want to touch her long, gorgeous, chestnut-colored hair. Instead of weaving my fingers through it and giving her the good, hard pull she needs, I tuck one stray lock behind her ear, barely touching her. We’re so close I can hear the steady tempo of her heartbeat. Her eyes widen when I tuck the hair, her lips parting. My dick tightens against my pants because I know exactly what needs to happen next.
“You fucked up, Princess,” I whisper in her ear. “Turn around, and bend over that desk.”
I expect a little tirade. Outrage. Huffing and puffing and indignation. But she closes her eyes briefly, as if to steel herself, and to my surprise, she doesn’t protest. When she opens her eyes they’re fixed on me and heated. She licks her lips.
She wants this as much as I do.
With torturously slow movements, she circles around and puts her back to me, then leans over so deliberately it’s slow motion, her belly hitting the desktop, fingers spread wide to hold herself in place. Her ass is on full display, voluptuous and full and in such fucking desperate need of a spanking.
I lean over, letting my flank press up against her back. “Your daddy ever spank you, Tanya?”
She shakes her head from side to side, her breath a husky whisper.
I place my hand on her lower back. The guys won’t be long on break, and this needs to happen.
“One thing you’ll learn, princess,” I say, resting my hand on the swell of her ass, which breaks every rule in the office handbook but I don’t give a shit, “is that this daddy won’t hesitate.”
She releases a strangled cry, and I haven’t even spanked her yet. She’s wet for me. I can tell by the way she trembles and breathes heavily she’s turned on. If I lifted her skirt and pulled away that little strip of fabric over her pussy, she’d coat my hand with her arousal. Tanya likes being dominated.
Fucking.
Noted.
Without another word, I raise my hand and slam it against the underside of her ass. She raises up on her toes and lets out a little yelp. Her knuckles whiten on the desk, but she stays there belly-down. Maybe she knows she can’t get away.
Maybe she wants more.
I lift my hand and slap my palm against her ass a second time, a third, and a fourth, each stinging swat landing in a different place. My palm tingles from where it connects with her ass, and my dick lengthens. “You stay the fuck out of that shop,” I growl, spanking her again, and again, “or the next time you do, I’ll bare your ass before I spank it.”
And I fucking will. The thought of spanking her bare ass makes my dick painfully hard, but I’m not fucking around here. Yeah, I want to fuck the princess heiress and hard, but I’m not screwing around when it come to safety.
“You’ll watch your tone of voice,” I say with another sharp spank. “And stay the fuck out of that shop. It’s dangerous in there.” I spank her three more times in rapid succession. “And the truth is, I’ll fucking kill someone if they so much as look at you.” She whimpers. I can feel the heat on her ass straight through that little skirt of hers. She’s had enough for now.
I mean every word I said but I think my point’s been made. I want to heave up this skirt and rake my hand up along her inner thighs, then finger her until she soars into her climax. I bet she’s damp with need and her skin feels like silk. I’d bet a goddamn mint she tastes sweet, too. I make it my aim to find out.
But not now. Not yet.
I right her skirt, and pull her to standing, then spin her around to look at me. Taking her by the chin, I bring her eyes to mine. “You hear me?”
Her wide, bright eyes blink up at me. Then she lashes flutter again, as if waking from a trance. She swallows. “Did you just spank me?” she whispers.
I huff out a laugh. “No, babe. I just gave you a motivational massage.” She blinks and stares, as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself. I hear the guys entering the shop behind me, tools being lifted and voices in the background. I gotta go.
“You just spanked me,” she repeats. It’s like she’s still trying to process what just happened.
I raise a brow to her. “Your point?”
“You shouldn’t do that,” she whispers.
I lean in and whisper in her ear. “You mean to tell me you didn’t like it?’
She swallows. “No, Levi,” she whispers back, her fingers gently grasping my shoulder. “Problem is, I liked it way too fucking much.”
USA Today Bestselling author Jane has been writing since her early teens, dabbling in short stories and poetry. When she married and began having children, her pen was laid to rest for several years, until the National Novel Writing Challenge (NaNoWriMo) in 2010 awakened in her the desire to write again. That year, she wrote her first novel, and has been writing ever since. With a houseful of children, she finds time to write in the early hours of the morning, squirreled away with a laptop, blanket, and cup of hot coffee. Years ago, she heard the wise advice, “Write the book you want to read,” and has taken it to heart. She sincerely hopes you also enjoy the books she likes to read.
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