HANNAH
Brandon’s message scared me. Usually he gave me a time to meet him the next day, never has he told me where to meet him right away. Thankfully, Carter had taken a few prospects out for a joy ride, or whatever they did when they all rode out of the compound together. Martin had gone with them, so I didn’t have the guilt of his eyes on me as I slipped into my car and rolled out of the garage.
When I pulled into the back lot of the diner, Brandon’s bike sat empty beside the back door. He’d never parked in the open before, he’d always pull into the garage. My insides twisted again with the feeling bad things were going to happen in a few minutes. Had he been found out? Should I just reverse out and run away?
Before I could decide, the side door of the garage opened and Brandon stepped out. He waved me over to him. The man needed to learn to stop beckoning me. Even if it did make my heart flutter when he crooked his finger at me. A girl needed to draw a line, too, right? His blonde hair looked tousled, like he’d been dragging his hand through it over and over again.
His usually soft and domineering eyes looked firm and worried. The wrinkle in his brow didn’t give me any more confidence. When I stepped into the garage, he shut and locked the door. “Hannah, I’m leaving,” he blurted out before I even stepped off the stoop inside the door.
“Okay.” I forced myself to nod. He hadn’t said “we were leaving”; he said he was leaving. Maybe his club put more pressure on him to ignore me, like Martin was doing with me. I really couldn’t be mad, I told myself. Carter had threatened his mother. I knew what losing a mom was like, and I wouldn’t blame him for hightailing it away from me. “That’s fine.” I kept nodding while he stared at me with a more wrinkled expression.
“I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving town,” he clarified with his arms folded over his chest. The muscles in his biceps tensed in that position. I just kept nodding. This is what my stomach was doing back flips about. He was going. I was going to be alone again. There would be no leaving Carter. Martin was right about that. “Hannah.” He reached out and gripped my shoulders. “I’m not leaving town to leave you. I’m going on some business. I’ll be gone a week, maybe two.” His eyes caught mine, and the familiar shiver worked its way down my spine.
“Oh.” I could feel the muscles in my body relax and my breath came a little easier to me. “I mean, if you wanted to go, really go, I get that. It’d be okay,” I continued on. “I get that. I’d understand.” His eyes narrowed as I continued to rant my way through the end of my panic attack. By the time I finished the concerned soft look had turned into a dark, angry glare. “What?”
“Do you really think I’d do that? Just leave town and leave you behind? Didn’t I tell you you’re mine?”
“Well, yeah, but I mean—”
“Didn’t I say that you’d be leaving with me? That you were going with me?”
“Yes, but—”
“So you think I lied?”
“No! It’s just, I’d understand—” Before I could finish my sentence he had me spun around and doubled over his arm. My feet brushed the concrete floor, his hand bit into my side as he held me with my ass in the air. “What are you doing?” I kicked my legs but that didn’t stop him from making his mark. A heavy hand landed on my backside, the cotton dress did nothing to protect me from the burning sting of his hand as he brought it down again and again.
By the time he finished with me, tears were rolling off my cheeks and pooling on the floor, mingling with the remnants of oil and gasoline. I no longer fought his grip, but sagged over his arm; he’d let my feet back on the ground to help me balance while he finished spanking me.
He helped me stand and then pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead and my cheek. “When I say you’re mine, If fucking mean it. I don’t mean that you’ll get to decide if I stick around or if I follow through with what I say. It means I said it and it’s going to fucking happen.”
“You spanked me because I was being understanding?” I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge.
“I spanked you because you needed it.” He grabbed my hands and held them against his chest. “You were having a little war in your head, trying to keep from panicking. And you were trying to give me an out. I don’t want an out. I said you’ll come with me. This is just business and I’ll be back.”
I wanted to argue with him, to slap him and scream that he couldn’t put his hands on me like that whenever he felt like it. But if I was going to be honest, and with him there was no other way to be, the spanking had completely centered me. The tension was gone from my body, my mind wasn’t working with excuses and fears. “I shouldn’t let you get so cocky.” I tried to sound annoyed, but the grin he was flashing me told me I failed. He wiped the last bit of tears from my cheek and pulled me toward him, his mouth coming down on mine.
His tongue pushed through my lips, taking the kiss deeper, awakening my insides with just the scent of him. I could taste coffee on his lips, sweet coffee. His hands moved from my face, to cup my ass cheeks. The spanking hadn’t been that hard, but it was still tender when he squeezed me in his hands. “Mine,” he murmured against my lips. “All mine.” He pulled away, flipping me around again so my back was to him. “Are you wearing panties?” he asked, lifting the hem of my skirt up and tsking his tongue at me.
Panties weren’t needed whenever I met Brandon; of course I hadn't worn any. “No, I left them at home.” I looked over my shoulder at him, giving him what I hoped was a seductive look. If he was going to be gone for a week, we’d need to say goodbye properly.
“Naughty girl.” He squeezed my ass again, digging his nails into my skin. I hissed and took a step forward, but he didn’t let go. “See that bench over there?” He put his arm over my shoulder, pointing out the work bench a few feet away. I nodded. “Go over there, hold up your dress so I can see that cute ass of yours, and bend over. I want that ass out, and your pussy on display for me. Do it now before I add extra.” He gave my ass another swat.
“Extra what?” I asked, already taking steps toward the bench. My pussy clenched at the thought of what he was going to do, what he’d already done had left me soaked and wanting.
“Licks, of course.” I heard the buckle of his belt coming loose and chanced another look behind me. Watching him pull the leather strap back to unbuckle and then pulling it free of his jeans sent shivers everywhere in my body, electrifying my senses.
“Don’t you have to go soon?” I teased, folding the hem of my dress so it laid over my back and bent over. I placed my hands on the bench, and pushed my ass out, spreading my feet just like he’d shown me countless times already. The cool air of the garage brushed my wet pussy, reminding me again that he wasn’t where I wanted him.
“I will always have time for my naughty girl.” He folded the leather strap in half and positioned himself to my left. His hand ran over the bare skin of my ass, leaving a warm trail where his he touched. My insides clenched at the sight of him staring at me with such determination. I wiggled my ass beneath his hand. “Look forward.” He reached out with his free hand and pushed my cheek until I turned my head away from him.
Just as I opened my mouth to argue, the first bite of the leather slashed across my ass. I hissed at the burn, but kept my hands where they were. He brought the belt down again, and again, each new, heated strap burned my skin and trailed into my body where I felt myself getting wetter for him.
“Such a nice ass, I can’t blame you for not wanting to cover it up.” He rested the belt against my ass, that was now throbbing from the strapping. “In fact, maybe I should take away all of your panties.” Another quick slap and I my knees buckled. “Stand up straight.”
He laid the belt over my back, and moved to stand behind me. A wrapper ripped, and his zipper unzipped. I chanced a quick look over my shoulder and saw him lifting up his shirt and rolling the rubber over his cock. His thick, long cock that my pussy ached for. He caught me looking and gave me another slap, this time with his hand and lower toward my thigh. “Still so naughty.” He smirked and lined his dick up with my entrance.
I tried to push back, to take him into me, but he only laughed and held my hips tightly. “Please, Brandon. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Do you think I care if you want to wait or not?” The head of his cock rubbed up and down my slit, teasing me to distraction.
“Probably not.” I moaned when he pushed at my wet opening, but didn’t enter me. I wanted to kick him, but I had enough sense at the moment to realize that would most likely not get me what I wanted, needed, the most.
“Now you’re getting it.” He grabbed my hips and pulled me back toward him as he thrust toward me, instantly filling me. I grunted at the sudden fullness. He didn’t pause, didn’t give me a moment to stretch to his size, he just began fucking me with an urgency my own body matched.
The garage filled with our grunts and moans, the slapping of our bodies as we continued to move in our frenzied race to the finish. His hand roamed around my belly, until he found my clit. The pad of his thumb pressed down and I threw my head back, crying out from the pleasure shooting through my body. He pinched and rolled the sensitive bud while he continued to plow his cock into me again and again.
I looked over my shoulder at him to find him staring at me intently. His bottom lip had disappeared, being bitten down on by his teeth. Dark eyes melded into my gaze and he increased the strength of his movements.
“Fuck,” he growled. “You’re even tighter this way.” His fingers continued to move over my clit, driving me faster toward the brink.
I lifted my right foot and placed it on a small stool that was near me. He growled again and drove harder into me. “Harder, Brandon. Please.” I moved with him, fucking him as much as he was fucking me.
“Fuck.” He reached up and grabbed my hair at the base of my scalp, pulling my head back toward him. The new sensation, the new shot of pain running through me pushed me closer and closer to the explosion I was looking for. He moved his hand from my hip and wrapped it over my shoulder, pulling me to him with each strong stroke. “Goddamn. Come for me, baby. Come right now.” He continued to ride me.
My body listened to him as though he truly was its owner. The orgasm that had been slowly building inside of me burst out and shattered me. I screamed with each wave of its intensity. He drove harder and faster into me, grunting out his own release.
I rested my forehead on the workbench, not giving a damn that it was probably covered with dirt and grime. I needed to catch my breath. Brandon peeled his fingers away from my shoulder, and let go of my hair as he took deep ragged breaths. When he was ready, he pulled away from me, walking away to a trashcan in the corner.
“Two weeks?” I smoothed my dress down and combed my fingers through my hair. He took the belt from my hands and slid it back into the loops around his waist.
“Yeah.” His eyes darkened. “About Carter—”
“I don't want to talk about him.” I shook my head. I turned to walk away, but he grabbed me, pulled me back to him, holding me close to his chest.
“I know you don’t. But we are going to anyway,” he said with his chin resting on the top of my head.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of him, trying to memorize the smell. For all I knew, he wouldn’t be returning from this job he was going on. I wanted the memory, something to keep me from going insane while Carter continued to make my life hell.
“Shark is coming with me, so he can’t stop in at the club to keep an eye on you—you’ll be on your own.” He said it as though it were some failing on his part.
“Brandon, I’ve been taking care of myself this whole time. I can make it another two weeks.”
“You won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.” His voice wavered, and I could tell the idea of having Carter anywhere near me was physically hurting him. I couldn’t blame him. The memory of that girl with Brandon’s cock in her mouth still made my chest tighten and choke the breath from my lungs. It wasn't fair to make him deal with this, to know some other guy was using me, touching me. I couldn’t ask him to continue down this road.
“Maybe we should—”
“My belt won’t feel so good now after two spankings. Better watch what you’re going to say.”
“Fine.” I let out a long breath. He was right. I’d already tried the logical approach with him. “You’re okay with this? With Carter making me live in his apartment? Me cleaning and cooking for him, fucking him when he stumbles into bed at night?” I shoved away from him. He could pretend all he wanted, but there was no good side the situation.
“Hannah,” he warned, with his voice and his eyes, but I ignored him.
“No. You know I can’t fight him. You know he’s going to fuck me, make me do all the dirty things he’s always made me do. How can you look at me like I’m not the whore that I am?” Tears now ran down my cheeks and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. I hugged myself, stepping back when he looked like he would spring forward to touch me.
Instead of reaching for me, his shoulders dropped, his mouth tightened. “If you ever call yourself that again, a spanking will be the least of the punishments coming your way.” His voice was hard, harder than I’d ever heard it. He pointed a finger at me. “You are no fucking whore—not like that. I hate the fucking idea of that asshole touching you, and if I could go over there right now and tear him in two, I would. I will get back here as soon as I can.” He stepped toward me, stalking me as I stepped away. I couldn’t handle his touch. If he touched me, he would make me melt. Make me believe things were going to work out for us, but I knew they wouldn’t.
My retreat ended when I bumped into the wall. He flashed me a wicked grin as he trapped me further by putting his hands on the wall on either side of me, and pushing his body against mine. I looked up at him, ready to tell him to move, to beg him to let me go, but his lips captured mine before I was able to get out one sound.
Everything in me softened. The tension disappeared, the fear, the anger, all washed away with his possessive kiss. His hands moved to cup my face, holding me where he wanted me, where I wanted to be. Under him, under his power, and his command. He didn’t yield, not one inch, until he was ready, and even then he continued to hold me close to him, our noses touching, our eyes locked without each other.
“I will get you out of there. I promise.” A vow, spoken low and with more determination than I had ever heard him use. “Sit tight. I will make him pay for everything, I swear it.”
I couldn’t do anything except blink, another tear slipping down my cheek. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” I whispered.
“It’s gonna take a lot more than Carter and some cartel assholes to keep me away from you.” He gave me another kiss, shorter but with as much power as the first. “Keep your phone on you at all times. I will text as soon as possible. If you need me, if you need anything you text me. I’ll get someone out here to help. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
He wiped the tears from my cheeks and released me. The cool air brushed against me without him pressed against me and I wanted to pull him back. I wanted to wrap myself around his waist and beg him to stay. To take me with him. Not to leave me behind. But I knew he couldn’t. He had to do this, had to take care of whatever he was being sent on. I could handle another week, I could do that for him. For us.