“Seth, when a woman isn’t on birth control, other precautionary measures are needed.” She spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child. When he still registered no understanding on his face, she rolled her eyes. “I’m asking if other measures were taken.”

Seth laughed. A deep belly laugh that Heather felt vibrate in the center of her womb. Her face flushed, partly from embarrassment, partly from frustration. Partly from desire. God, this man was such an incredible ass. She’d been worrying and fretting about being pregnant for two plus weeks and here he was laughing at her.

And her stupid body couldn’t respond in any way but to want him.

Dammit, Seth had made her life such an incredible nightmare. If he wasn’t going to answer her, was just going to laugh at her, then she wanted him to go. Then she could cry out her humiliation in private.

She opened her mouth to tell him to leave, but he spoke before she could. “I shouldn’t be laughing.”

Relief swept through her. Thank God, he had a decent bone in his body.

He frowned. “I should be offended.” Her brows rose in startled confusion. “I just don’t know if I’m more offended that you think I wouldn’t use a condom or that you think we had sex that you can’t remember.” Before she even had time to register what he was saying, he backed her up against the stainless steel refrigerator, caging her with his body. His voice was gravelly, his breath hot on her face. “Because if we did f**k, princess, you’d remember.”

Her mouth fell open as she tried to sort out what he meant. “But I remember…”

“Yes, I went down on you.” His eyes darkened. “And you enjoyed it. And it was incredibly beautiful. Then I left.”

He left. Huh.

A sickening feeling rolled through her as she realized he hadn’t even tried to get on her.

“I left because I’d had too much to drink and you were passed out. Not because I wasn’t interested. I was trying not to be a total douche.”

She licked her lips. “But you were interested, though.” Why did she even give a shit? She should be celebrating her not-a-chance-she-was-pregnant status and move on. Instead, she was practically begging for him to validate his attraction to her.

“I left frustrated and hard as f**k. About as hard as I am now.” He pressed his body against hers, demonstrating his state of hardness.

She let out a moan. She hadn’t realized how much she’d yearned for that contact, to feel him and his desire tight against her. It was both heavenly and aggravating all at once. Like scratching at an itch that could never quite be satisfied. If he kissed her, that would help. She looked up at him, pleading silently for his lips.

He bent closer but stopped just inches from her mouth. “Frankly, princess, I’m frustrated now for other reasons too. I gave you my number. You thought you could be pregnant. Why didn’t you call me?”

She had no idea how to answer, her brain barely working with him so close to her. She struggled to form words. “I…don’t know.”

“Because you’re stubborn, that’s why.” He circled her nose with his own. “Maddeningly stubborn. You know what I think might help cure you of that?”

“What?” It came out as a whisper, anticipation stealing her voice.

“A good old-fashioned spanking.”

Chapter Eight

A spanking? Seth couldn’t be serious. How dare he patronize her like that? Like she was an insolent child.

Yet, at the same time, the thought wasn’t unappealing. In fact, a warm pool of moisture had gathered between Heather’s legs and her heart pounded loudly against her ribcage. Her sudden increase in desire had her tongue-tied and shaking.

“Bend over the table.”

Seth’s rough command didn’t irk her as it should have. Instead, she found herself moving to the round dining area as if under a trance, and bending over with her rump in the air.

“That’s my girl.” She gasped as she felt his warm touch on the back of her bare thighs. His hands snaked up her legs under the hem of her short robe until they cupped the cheeks of her behind. “Stretch your arms out and grab the other side of the table.”

She did as he said, her robe pulling up farther as she stretched her body across the table. His fingers curled under the band of her bikini panties and pulled them down. Then he flung the bottom of her robe up around her waist so that she was completely exposed.

He inhaled on a hiss, running his strong hands over her bare skin. “Fuck, Heather, your ass is gorgeous. I could spend hours with you in this position alone.”

Her stomach twisted in excitement.

Then she panicked.

Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, her hands felt clammy as they gripped the table. She barely knew the man who had her in this very vulnerable position. Though he really hadn’t taken advantage of her while she’d been drunk, that didn’t mean he couldn’t now. What would he do to her if she let him? And could she even stop him if she wanted to?

“Seth…” she called out to him, not knowing how to express her sudden anxiety. She hated this feeling of uncertainty. Especially when it was mixed with piercing pangs of yearning. She was a mess—bewildered and out-of-control. She didn’t know what to do to make it go away, how to calm down. All she knew was that she didn’t want Seth to stop.

As if reading the volumes she spoke in the single utterance of his name, he assured her with a husky voice. “I’m going to give you what you need. Let go and give in. Trust me, princess.”

That was all she needed. Permission.

She sighed and rested her head down on the table in front of her, allowing herself to relax under his strong hands as they massaged her cheeks. She did trust him. Incredibly, insanely—stupidly, perhaps—she trusted him implicitly. Even more, she wanted whatever he planned to give her. Suspected he might fulfill her in ways that she’d never been fulfilled before.

The first strike came without warning. She let out a cry as the palm of his hand smacked across her tender skin, her eyes blurring from the pain. Immediately, he followed by gently kneading the area until the burn turned into overwhelming pleasure. Oh God, the contrast—the sting then the soothing touch that came after. Like sweet and sour all at once. Like soaking in a steamy hot tub in ice cold weather. Like nothing she’d ever experienced. The sensation was incredible.

And incredibly hot. She was drenched with desire.

He struck a second time, on the opposite cheek, and this time as he rubbed away the pain, she moaned. He repeated the pattern, striking and kneading, burning then soothing her until her knees were so weak that she wouldn’t have been able to stand without the support of the table under her.