Page 5 of Blaze

He growls.Every one of his reactions is… I can’t put my finger on it.It’s as though he cares about me specifically and he’s frustrated with my bad choices.

“Look, I know I’m an idiot.Believe me.There’s nothing you could possibly say that would pound that into my head any more than the lectures I gave myself all night long while I lay here wondering how long it would take me to die.You look like you want to spank me, and frankly, I’m okay with that.If you get me out of this mess, I’ll gladly let you do just that.You can lecture me to your heart’s content.I deserve it.”

I don’t know where the hell those thoughts came from or what possessed me to blurt them out.Spank me?I’ve lost my marbles.

“How old are you, Vicky?”His eyes narrow farther.

“Twenty-one.”

He blows out a breath as if he’s relieved.“Thank fuck,” he mutters.

I don’t know what that is all about, but he doesn’t give me a chance to answer.He tucks everything inside his pack, including my small one, the empty water bottle, and my bloody shirt.Next, he holds up a wrapped bar of some sort.“I bet you could use something to eat, too.”He opens it and hands it to me.

My stomach growls.Suddenly, I’m famished.I take it from him and bite off a third of it.It’s a protein bar.Ordinarily, it would probably taste like sawdust, but I’m so hungry it’s heavenly.

He strokes a lock of hair from my face.“Slow down.Don’t choke.I don’t want to have to perform the Heimlich maneuver this morning.”

Ignoring his attempt at a joke, I moan around the bar and finish it off.

Blaze comes to his feet, squatting next to me.“I’m going to lift you now.Can you wrap your hands around my neck?”

Gladly.

Chapter3

Blaze

I’m sure she was joking, but my palm is twitching.She was spot on.I want to take this naughty girl over my knees and spank her until she cries, and then I want her to kneel in front of me and promise me she will never ever do anything so reckless again in her life.After that, I want to cuff her to my bed to ensure she can’t get out of the mansion, so I won’t have to worry about her doing something dangerous.

Like hiking alone without checking into her bed and breakfast or telling a living soul what her plans are.Madness.

My heart is racing as I scoop her into my arms.I haven’t asked yet, but I hope to God she doesn’t have a boyfriend—or, heaven forbid, a husband—waiting for her somewhere.

Because she’s mine.

I should be worried about my sanity.It hasn’t been an hour since Reagan told me I would find my wife soon and succumb to whatever breeding frenzy has taken over everyone living in the Wilde mansion.

They warned me when I arrived.Every one of them came out front to meet me when I pulled up.I thought they were bonkers as they jokingly told me that all who enter the mansion end up married and pregnant.

They weren’t really joking, though.They were serious.I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now, because the truth is, half the reason I gave up my corporate job and moved to Wilde was because my life was racing by me.No wife and no kids at forty-one.

I’ve been living in the mansion for two weeks, jealousy growing as my cousins deal with morning sickness and naughty wives.Because that group of women is hilariously disobedient.I’m sure they spend part of every day conspiring.Trying to come up with ways to get into trouble.

I’ve found myself craving what they have, even though it’s not a lifestyle I’ve ever considered.

Sure, I’m a bit dominant, perhaps more than I’ve ever admitted to myself, but I’ve never dated anyone submissive before.Or we’ve never discussed it.

What am I talking about?It’s been years since I was in a relationship that extended more than a handful of dates.All were vanilla, though.

I’ve caught the bug.It’s hard not to.My five cousins and their spouses live in deep D/s relationships.They aren’t quiet about it either.They joke around in front of everyone about naughty wives and red bottoms.

That doesn’t even count the whispered promises I overhear from all the men warning their wives about safety and punishments.Now I want what they have.

And she’s in my embrace.I know it.Madness?Yes.Definitely.

I adjust her and wrap my arms around her tightly to keep her close to my chest.“Hold on to my neck, baby,” I order.

Her breath hitches against my shoulder.The first time that endearment slipped out of my mouth, I winced inside, but she didn’t seem to mind.In fact, I think she likes it.