Stef reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys Nate had given to him before he’d been loaded into the ambulance to go to the hospital. Stef had replayed the whole scene in his head a hundred times. A pair of rogue DEA agents had taken Callie hostage and offered to trade her for Zane, who had information that would lead them to millions of dollars worth of drug money. No one had been willing to give up Zane except Zane. Nate had set up a plan to take out the agents. It had gone well until one of the bastards had captured Nate. Stef had thought he held the ace when he caught the man’s partner and offered an exchange. The bastard had simply shot his partner between the eyes and held on to Nate.

He’d had a hand on the man when he died. Leander. Stef thought that was his name. It was all a jumble, but the blood was clear. It clung to his hands. The image was burned in his brain. The DEA agents were dead. Mel and Nate had been shot. Callie was worse for the wear. His sweet, pacifist friend had been forced to kill a man to save her loves, Nate and Zane.

Everyone he loved was alive, but he was still shaking inside.

“Max! Where is Rye? Oh, god, where’s Rye?” Rachel’s shout broke through his dark thoughts. He could hear the panic in her voice.

Rye pushed him aside as he ran toward his brother and their wife.

“I’m fine, baby. I’m fine. We’re all fine.” Stef stood in the doorway, watching as Max opened the little cell he’d placed his pregnant wife in to ensure her safety. He’d shoved Jennifer in with Rachel. She had no place walking into an ambush with a shotgun, and he didn’t trust her not to follow him. She was as stubborn as the day was long, and she loved Callie.

Max and Rye surrounded their wife. They hugged her and kissed her, whispering words of comfort to her. Their hands found her belly and rested on the child growing there.

“Where are the sheriff and Zane and Callie?” Laura Niles was on her formidable heels as he stared at the cell. Jen stood inside, watching him with hooded eyes. He could still remember the way she’d cursed him as he locked her inside.

He spoke to Laura, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jennifer.

“Hospital. Mel’s with them. No one is critical. Nate was shot, but it was in his shoulder. He doesn’t want anyone visiting until tomorrow.” Stella patted his back as she walked past. “I’ll head down anyway.

Someone will have to sit with Mel. And maybe translate for him. He has a theory about the aliens taking over pharmaceutical companies. It could go really poorly for those doctors.” Laura hurried after Stella. “I’ll keep you company, Stella.” Marie and Teeny had been left behind, too. They were one of Bliss’s oldest couples and ran the Trading Post together. Nate’s deputy, Logan, called them both Mom. After Max assured them Logan was all right and was simply handling the paperwork with the feds, they decided to stay on and man the station so the men could get some rest.

Rest. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that. A weird, angry energy was thrumming through his veins. He wanted to hit something—or fuck someone. Not someone. Jennifer. Sinking himself into Jennifer’s soft body would take away the pain.

He shook off the thought. He couldn’t use her like that. It would mean something to her. Hell, it would mean something to him, and neither one of them was ready for that. She was so damn young, so impetuous. Tonight had certainly proven that.

“Come on, Jennifer. I’ll take you home.” He owed her that, at least. She was so beautiful, even with mascara running down her cheeks. She took a hand wipe from Teeny and washed off her face.

He would have to stay away from her. He couldn’t ask Max or Rye to take her home. He had to do it himself, but he needed to keep his distance, or he would make a mistake they would both regret. He could feel it.

“Fuck you, Stef.” She shoved her way past him.

Volcanic rage threatened to overtake him. It wasn’t about her, but she was going to take the brunt unless she stopped pushing him. Hell, she’d been pushing him for a year and a half, ever since she waltzed into Bliss and declared she’d come to learn from him. She’d wanted him to teach her his techniques.

Stef didn’t teach. Not art at least. Now the finer points of Dominance and submission, that was another story. The Dom in him responded to her lack of respect. He followed her as she strode out of the building.

The early autumn air was already taking on a distinct chill at night, but it did nothing to cool Stef’s blood. Watching her walk away spurred his instincts to track her down. She walked quickly, as though she knew the danger she was in. Stef followed, blood pounding through his system. His thinking brain kept reasoning that he would just follow her and make sure she got home all right.

But that dark, dirty part of him knew what this was—a hunt that would end with him taking her down.

He quickly opened the door to his Land Rover, stashed the shotgun, and followed her. Her shoes clicked on the sidewalk as she passed the town hall and rushed across the street. He knew exactly where she was going. Her tiny apartment was over the diner. Stella had rented the little studio to her when she’d taken the waitressing job there. Jen turned the corner of the alley that led into the parking lot, and Stef jogged to catch up. He wouldn’t let her close the door on him.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned. She fairly vibrated with rage. “What are you doing, Stef?” That was an awfully good question, and he didn’t have much of an answer. He came up with the safest one he could find. “Protecting you.”

She rolled those green eyes. In the moonlight her skin looked like fine porcelain. “From what? Max said all the bad guys are dead.” He groped for an answer to that. “But the bikers are still around.

Until they know the hit is off Zane, they’ll still look for him.” She walked straight up to him and shoved a finger into his chest.

“Then go protect Zane. I don’t need your protection, Stef. I don’t want it, and I don’t want you.”

“Liar.” She’d always wanted him. She’d thrown herself at him. He just hadn’t thought it was a good idea to catch her.

She shook her head. “Nope. After the stunt you pulled tonight, I have zero desire to have anything to do with you. As a matter of fact, I should thank your perverted ass. Thank you, Stef. Thank you for finally showing me what an asshole you are. It totally frees me up to find someone who can actually get it up around me.” He actually saw red. It swam in front of his eyes like a mist, clouding everything, making the world seem a little unreal.

She just kept talking. “I think that tomorrow I’m going to do what Callie didn’t manage to do. I’m going to find myself some hot tourist and fuck the hell out of him. I’ve wasted a year and a half hoping you would actually see me. That’s not going to happen because you can’t fuck a woman who doesn’t kiss your feet. Can you, King Stefan?” He tried to breathe deeply. “Stop. Jennifer, if you stop now, I might be able to walk away.”

“If there’s one thing I am sure of it’s your ability to walk away from me.” She turned on her heels. “Go back home, Stef. I’m done with you.”

He reached out and grabbed her, hauling her back by her wrist.

She stumbled, but he caught her.

“What are you doing?” She yelled the question as she tried to get her balance back.

Stef was done talking. Talking didn’t mean anything to her. He’d tried to explain. He’d tried to stay away. He’d tried to be her friend.

She wouldn’t stop pushing. He planted his shoulder in her midsection and had her in a fireman’s hold before she could move.

Her hands beat on his back. He welcomed the sensation.

“Put me down, you jackass!”

He climbed the stairs toward her apartment with no thought but getting her inside and showing her just how fast he could get it up around her. He could handle the accusation that he was an asshole.

That was a simple, documented fact. But he was always hard around her. Fuck, half the time he couldn’t breathe when she was around.

And he knew he couldn’t think. How could he be expected to when all the blood in his body shifted to his cock the minute she walked in a room?

He reached out and opened the door. It opened without the need of a key.

“Damn it, Jennifer. Anyone could walk in here.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that now.” She pounded on his back. She tried kicking her legs, but he had a good hold on those. “Let me down, Stef.”

He set her on her feet and shut the door. He had her in a neat little cage now. She wouldn’t be able to get away from him. She stumbled, trying to put some distance between them.

“Get out.”

He looked around and quickly found what he needed. She had a pile of folded laundry in a hamper on a table in the small kitchen area.

Delicates. He selected a tiny pink thong. It would look lovely between the cheeks of her ass. He had another use in mind.

“OMG, you are such a perv,” she ranted on. “You’re going to steal my panties? You ignore me for over a year, and then you steal my undies?”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He heard his Dom voice turn on. It was low and seemed to come from a place deep inside his chest. It felt good to lose control, like a drug running through his system, lighting up his every nerve.

She finally stopped, and her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

Good girl . She was finally getting it. That little hint of fear in her eyes hardened his already rock-hard cock to painful proportions. If he didn’t get out of his pants soon, they might split on him. “Give me your hands so I can tie you up.”

There it was, that little hitch in her breath that had nothing to do with fear. Despite it, she shook her head. “No. No, Stef. That’s a bad idea.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But it’s going to happen. Easy way or hard way, Jennifer. It’s your choice.”

Her throat moved up and down as she swallowed. Her eyes darted around the room, and her chest heaved. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them the fear was gone, replaced with a glint of challenge. “Oh, I think it’s going to be very hard, Master Stefan.”

He’d always known she would be fun to play with, but he wasn’t playing now. This was serious. “Safe word. Pick one now.”

She didn’t prevaricate or pretend to misunderstand. She spat out her chosen word as though she’d always had it in her back pocket, just waiting to use. “Impressionist.”

“Excellent.” What he was about to do to her was so far away from gauzy and slightly surreal. It would be rough and hard. “You can run, if you like.”

“Fuck you, Stef.” She turned and ran for her bathroom.

He was on her before she’d gotten three steps. He grabbed her around the waist and eased her to the floor. Using his weight to pin her down, he bound her hands in the silky thong and flipped her over.

“God, you’re good at that.” There was no mistaking the admiration in her tone. It was another thing he loved about her. Her perversion seemed to match his own. If only he could trust her to know her own heart at such a young age.

He put a hand on her lips. “No. No talking.”

“That might be hard for me.”

“Then let me make it easy.” He got off her and quickly swung her up. He sat on her lumpy couch and had her over his lap in a second.

He pulled at the denim of her miniskirt. She wore a pair of cotton panties. They were easy to rip off her.

“Damn it, Stef. I just bought those.” He brought his hand down on the fleshy part of her ass. “No cussing.”

She gasped and went still under him. “You spanked me.” He brought his hand down again, loving the way her ass got pink.

“Yes, love, what did you expect?” Another slap, right on the pretty crease of her ass. Jen might be slender, but she had a perfectly plump ass. Made to take a spanking. Made to fuck. “And I’ll do this every time you disobey me.”

“Every time,” she agreed with a husky moan.

His hand came down again. “That’s one for cussing. And one for questioning me.”

“I didn’t question you.”

Smack . “And another for arguing. And ten for giving me hell all night long.”

He spanked her, sparing her not at all. His hand came down in short arcs, delivering his punishment all over her cheeks. He could feel her crying, but not once did she ask him to stop or scream out her safe word. She simply held on to his legs as though seeking more connection. They were partners in play and pleasure. When he was done he admired his work. Her ass was hot pink, and he could smell her arousal. He slipped a finger between her cheeks and let it slide toward her pussy. She was coated in cream.