Taming Sugar by Rebecca Grace Allen

Author:Rebecca Grace Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Rebecca Grace Allen
Published: 2016-12-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

The next evening, Roxy showed up at the address Hunter had given her at nine pm sharp. It turned out he didn’t live far from the cabin—just a couple of streets away.

The fact that he was within walking distance had made her toss and turn all night the night before. She’d been agitated as fuck after he’d left, more keyed up than she’d ever been. She’d almost resorted to sneaking her hand beneath her panties and taking the edge off several times during the day today, but forced herself not to, busying herself instead with movies, easy-to-make meals, and getting ready. She wanted Hunter’s commanding and capable hands on her, not her own.

And she had the feeling he was going to be a hell of a lot more than just capable.

She couldn’t put into words how he’d made her feel last night. No one told Roxy what to do. She spent most of her life leading the pack, waiting for everyone else to catch up. Why she’d not only allowed Hunter’s commands, but craved them, was something she hadn’t been able to piece together yet.

Stopping at the front walk to his house, Roxy looked down at her attire. She’d chosen her clothes carefully: sandals, black leggings and a long, white, flowy blouse. Rehearsal clothes, cute but chic. Comfortable enough for whatever he had planned. She knew enough about the possibility of what she was getting into to know she’d need to be flexible, to hold poses that hopefully her years of dance training had prepared her for. But to be honest, she hoped she wouldn’t be wearing any of it very long. She hoped they could skip through all that quickly, and get to the good stuff.

She was buzzing with energy as she started up the path, but told herself to calm down. To not let him see how excited she was. She was still behind her walls, still heavily guarded, but was eager to once again feel his control, his mastery over her.

It occurred to her, as she lifted her hand to the doorbell, that Hunter Finn might be the only man who’d ever been able to do that.

The door opened a few moments later. Hunter was in a crisp white button down and dark washed jeans. Two days of dark stubble graced his chin and mouth, and goddamn, she wanted to touch it.

“Come in.” He waved a hand out, and she stepped past the threshold. “Would you like anything to drink? Juice? Water?”

“I half expected another expensive bottle of wine to be out chilling.”

“I only play sober.”

Oh. Well. That sucked. “Was that a rule you were planning on enforcing on me? Because I don’t believe I agreed to that.”

Slowly, very slowly, Hunter closed the door. Like a predator considering how to most effectively catch his kill, he prowled toward her until he’d backed her up against the wall.

“You agreed to come here tonight and behave. Which means you’ll do what I tell you to do.” He braced his palms on the wall on either side of her, those massive arms caging her in.

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