Page 2 of Carter

Tossing me a look of annoyance, she flips her ponytail over her shoulder. It takes every ounce of my self-control to not grab the end of it and yank… hard.

“Fine. I’ll go out on my own and you can stay home.” She turns, bouncing up the stairs. The black spandex of her workout pants strains tight over her ass.

An ass I’m going to smack. Over and over again until the palm of my hand stops twitching and her skin is red hot. I want her crying, begging me to stop. Promising me through her tears that she’ll be my good girl.

The door slams.

I’m left standing on the street.

Enough is enough. Tonight, I will introduce her to the real Carter Bachman. I will spank her for the first time, and it will surely not be the last. I go to make my move, follow that curving ass up the stairs so I can punish it.

As I go, my eye catches Bronson’s—the head of our family. He stands beside a woman I’ve never seen before. A pretty girl with dark hair and eyes, like Sasha. She sees me staring and ducks behind his broad shoulders, as if to hide.

By the look on his face, he’s witnessed the whole fight. I hear him say to the girl, “If you’ll excuse me just a moment.”

She gives a small nod. She shoots me a curious look as Bronson walks over to me.

His stride radiates power. Control.

He stops, standing less than a foot before me. He rests one hand on my shoulder. The other, he offers to me in greeting.

“Hey, Bronson,” I say, taking his hand and shaking it. He gives me the famous Bronson shake—firm grip.

His eyes lock on mine, holding my gaze as he releases my hand. The hand on my shoulder remains, heavy. Steadying me for the weight of what he’s about to say. His gaze leaves mine as he leans in. He brings his mouth close to my ear.

He says, “If you don’t spank her, I will.”

His words hit me. Tightening my gut. I envision him, Sasha thrown over his knee, his hand punishing her ass. It makes my blood boil. If I didn’t respect him so much—and it wouldn’t get me killed—I might even throw a punch.

My body tenses. I’m one rigid muscle.

He pulls away. His eyes are so dark they look black. I stare back, reading his expression. Concern is etched in his features. Worry flashes in his gaze.

In that moment, I remember: This man loves me. He’s my brother.

My anger toward him dissipates. As always, he’s only looking out for me. For the Village.

I don’t bother to tell him that’s just what I’m off to do. A waste of words. He needs only a nod from me, and I give it to him. My silent promise to right this wrong. To bring balance back to our family.

I take the stairs two at a time.

I barge through the door. When I call her name, my voice bellows. “Sasha!”

2

Sasha

Carter actually thinks he’s going to put me over his knee and spank me.

Boy, does he have another think coming.

Had he missed me teaching kickboxing this morning? One swift kick, right to the family jewels. That’s all it will take to bring him to his knees.

One kick.

Sure, Carter’s six foot five and built of nothing but solid muscle. But I’m strong—he should know, he’s the one who’d trained me at Barbells, the gym he owns, the one we will soon co-own. And I’m faster than him.

Disciplining me just isn’t… him. He’s a sweetheart. A dedicated boyfriend. Holds the door for me, talks to my mother on the phone when she calls, helping her with her broken English. Runs to the store for chocolate and Midol at that time of the month.