Page 9 of Bronson

No!

His gaze leaves mine, his hand dips into the almost empty bag. Nausea roils in my stomach.

He lifts his hand. The chain hooks around his index finger, the butterfly dangling in the air. The light dances off its tiny diamonds.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he asks.

He speaks of the necklace, but his gaze is locked on me. His eyes travel over my body, peeling away my clothing. I stand before him, feeling naked. A tingling sensation prickles at my core. Heat rises in my face. My tongue is thick and useless in my mouth. I hope to God he can’t see how hard he’s making my nipples beneath my shirt.

He reaches out, gently taking my hand in his. Electric pulses dance over my skin where he’s touching me. He opens my palm, turning it face up. He lowers the necklace into my hand. One by one, he curls my fingers, closing them around the charm. His gaze locks on mine. A shiver runs down my spine.

“Keep it,” he says. His words sound like a threat. He tosses the purse to me.

“Thank you?” I stutter as I grab the bag. Breaking his gaze, I slip the necklace back into my purse.

“Now, we must discuss your punishment,” he says.

My body turns to ice. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I shift the strap of my bag to my shoulder. My hands are shaking, and I hide them in the pockets of my shirt. I steady my voice and say, “Punishment?”

He glares. “Yes. I think you’ll find me quite fair.”

I stare at him, my mouth gaping.

A muscle in his jaw twitches as he speaks. He has the slightest hint of an exotic accent, but I can’t place it. “I can call the police. Have you arrested for theft? That would be the proper protocol. Or…”

My fate hangs in his pause.

I gulp, arranging my face in a mask of confidence I do not feel. I raise my brow. Jut out my chin. I demand, “Or what?”

One of his arms remains crossed over his chest. The hand of his other arm goes beneath his chin. As if he’s thinking. He begins to circle me. Slow, purposeful steps as his gaze studies me. My nipples tighten beneath my bra as he comes closer to me. I can smell his cologne. Feel the air move around me as he paces.

He says, “We can take care of things the old-fashioned way. My way. Your punishment will be quick, severe. Then your crime will be forgiven.” He’s not even touching me, yet my skin raises in chill bumps. Beyond my fear, a strange sensation rises. My pussy is soaking my panties. He wants to punish me and he’s so… big… stern… and damn—he is a looker.

His anger only serves to give his handsomeness a dangerous, sexy as hell edge.

As he awaits my answer, my mind spins, my core throbs.

What am I going to do?

CHAPTER TWO

Bronson

A soft pink rises in her cheeks as she processes my words.

She’s just a bitty little thing.

But she’s strong. I can sense her will, her determination, her toughness.

Her eyes dart from my face to the door behind me.

Brave. If not a bit silly.

This is a young woman who has felt pain. Taken care of herself the best way she knew how.

A fighter.

Her dark hair falls into her eyes as she tries to avoid my gaze. I long to reach out and smooth it back into place as one would with a lost little girl.