Read Online Wicked Game by Mercy Celeste - Free Book Online Page B

him away.
    “Not so much.” Blood pumped in his brain, the thrill of the chase blinding him to everything but catching Cass Pendleton and making her pay for all of the little slights and insults he’d endured over the past few weeks. And after everything he’d done for her too.
    “Why are you doing this?”
    That was a loaded question he had no intention of answering.
    “Fine, then. I’ll take my chances in the rain.”
    He caught her just as she reached the grill area and grabbed her around her waist. She screamed a blood-curdling scream that made his blood race even faster.
    She kicked, clawed, and called him names he wouldn’t have guessed she knew the meaning of. But he didn’t let her go. Instead he found the jump rope he’d left out the day before, and with one hand he held her arms behind her back, with the other he cinched her elbows together and wound the rope a couple of times, finally tying it in a bow.
    Cass stopped struggling immediately. She stood stone still, staring at him with mayhem in her eyes. “Not funny, Jaime. Let me go. Let me go now and I won’t kill you.”
    “Pretty talk. You should be on your knees, begging me to let you go instead of making threats you aren’t in a position to carry out.” He noticed that her breath grew ragged, but murder still shone brightly in her eyes. “I’ll let you go when you learn to speak to me with a civil tongue. Yes, Mr. Dalton or Lord Ironman—either is acceptable. Yes, Mr. Dalton. Do you think you can manage that, Miss Pendleton?”
    “Go fuck yourself.” She stood tall, her shoulders forced back, her breasts jutting against the pulled tight material of her gown that was little more than a long, sleeveless T-shirt, her nipples hard as pebbles.
    Something stirred inside him, a beast he thought he’d long ago shackled, when it came to Cassandra Pendleton and her mouth. Her perfectly formed full red lips—oh so perfect for kissing, but very adept at spewing vile, hateful words. Words that had made him want to do dishonorable things to her for as long as he could remember.
    “Maybe later. Right now, Miss Pendleton, I believe I owe you a spanking.” He slowly walked around her, touching her shoulder, her upper arms, stroking her cheek as he circled her, dragging out the torment. “Not quite so mouthy now, are you? How do you want it? Leaning across the table or my lap?”
    She didn’t answer; she just stood still and watched him, with something akin to hatred in her eyes. He didn’t like the sick feeling in his stomach those looks caused. However, instead of untying her and running for his life, he decided it was a good idea to cover her eyes with the forgotten dishtowel that lay on the table beside the grill. “I’m sorry, Miss Pendleton, but you brought this on yourself. And if it’s any consolation, this is going to hurt you more than it hurts me.”
    She started to reply, but he cinched the cloth around her eyes, and the words she had been about to say became a breathy gasp. “Now, Miss Pendleton, I’m going to give you one chance to apologize for all of the mean things you say to me.”
    The rise and fall of her chest was mesmerizing, her pointed nipples seemed to beckon him to touch. Jaime cleared his throat.
    “Let me go.” Her voice was soft, breathy, disconcerting.
    “Apologize or get spanked.” Why didn’t he just let her go?
    “No. I won’t.” She drew in her breath when he twined his fingers in her hair; the long thick ponytail felt like silk. He pulled her head back and leaned in. He could feel her breath on his cheek. It was minty and sweet, he could see the wild fluttering of her pulse at the base of her neck, and before he could stop himself, he picked her up and carried her back into the house.
    She felt like a rag doll in his arms, limp, pliable, and oh so soft. “Then you leave me no other choice.”
    He pulled the chair nearest the doorway out with his foot and settled on it. Shifting her until she lay across