His Unexpected Love. Anya Summers

Carter this week. She cursed at herself internally at feeling the wetness trailing over her cheeks. She hated showing weakness of any kind.

      There was only one course, one road which she could tread. Jenna needed her paycheck too damn much to be able to refuse. There was no other way around the punishment, as barbaric as it might be. There were too many people depending upon her and the money she made here on the island for her to welch now.

      She saw no way out of her predicament. Sensing the behemoth’s presence nearby, she nodded her acquiescence and responded to Jared, “Yes, Sir.”

      “Carter, you will let me know if there are any problems with her discipline,” Jared addressed the damn sasquatch over her shoulder.

      Unable to stand the suspense, Jenna confronted her punishment head on. The Dom was a six foot six—give or take an inch—cowboy who opted for jeans instead of leather pants, and a black Stetson. And the way his gaze traveled over her, the possession and unbridled lust he showed her in his dark gaze, caused her internal emergency sensors to blare code red.

      From a mere glance, she understood the man would attempt to flay her open, both heart and soul, and enjoy the unmaking. He’d turn her into a slave, try to bend her to his will, and she only prayed that she was strong enough to withstand his dominance. There was too much riding on her shoulders to fail.

      “That I will. Come on now, darlin’, let’s go get ourselves acquainted,” Carter said, the deep timbre of his voice making her think of drinking hundred proof whiskey around a campfire. Backed into a corner, she accepted the proffered hand. His work roughened fingers closed around hers, and a torrent of tingles erupted in her system where he touched her. Carter helped her off Jared’s lap. Her free hand clutched at the blanket around her shoulders. Jenna infused her gaze with every ounce of her wrath at having her choice taken from her and directed it at the man of the hour.

      The sasquatch had the audacity to return her glare with a sardonic grin. Tremors raced along her spine.

      The disparity and difference in height as he dwarfed her left her feeling unsettled. The man reminded her of a mountain: strong and immovable. With a victorious smirk on his lips that she wanted to remove. Carter swooped her up into his arms when she wobbled on her feet as her resolve to see her punishment through wavered. He carted her, blanket and all. He didn’t take her to a nearby couch or scene area, but headed past curious onlookers and patrons directly out of the club.

      Jenna fought the distinct and altogether surprising urge to turn in to him as his musky scent, which was part dark woodsy spice and part manly Carter, enveloped her. It made her want to rub her face against his chest and see if his skin tasted as good as he smelled.

      Dammit.

      She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. As much as she wanted to beat the arrogant man upside the head with her serving tray, his touch, his arms around her, rekindled her internal forge, and by the time he placed her in the front passenger seat of his cart, she was thoroughly aroused. Watching him saunter around to the driver’s side and slide in beside her, Jenna understood she was going to have one hell of a difficult time submitting to Carter while remaining unmoved by him.

      She clutched at the blanket around her shoulders. Looking out at the illuminated path, she tried to center herself, her posture rigid in the seat.

      “Relax. I’m not an ogre,” Carter said, his deep baritone causing her chest to buzz with tingly sensations. He drove the cart with precision and command over the path, but she could feel his gaze on her. He kept studying her with his enigmatic gaze.

      “I never said you were, Sir,” she murmured. His presence was all-consuming, dominating the small space of the cart, and she hated that he stirred her.

      “If you truly object to being with me, I won’t force you,” he commented as he parked the cart beneath his villa and shifted all his focus toward her.

      It was more of a concession than she’d believed she would receive from him. She couldn’t deny her attraction any more than she needed air to breathe. It didn’t mean she was okay with Jared forcing her hand. She consented to being with Carter but she had reservations about it. Loads of them. She admitted, “I don’t object to it, much. But forgive me, Sir, I’m not sure why you would want me after this morning.”

      “What can I say? I enjoy a challenge. Besides, I’m used to working with finicky mares on my ranch and get a thrill at having such untamed beauty bend to my hand and my will,” Carter murmured, his voice gruff and low.

      Jenna curled her fingers into her palms against the blanket to keep from wrapping them around his throat and strangling him. The damn sasquatch had compared her to a horse. She was not a freaking horse but a grown woman. She might be submissive, but she would fight him tooth and nail this week. He might have control of her body, but she would never grant him anything more, and certainly not her full submission.

      She’d be lucky if she didn’t murder him by week’s end.