Read Slate (Breaking the Declan Brothers #2) for Free Online Page B

from him. I have the next three days to get to know this cruel and unfeeling Slate. Maybe I can bring back some of his humanity and remind him of the past. And, after all of this, if I do end up bent over the sofa, well then, so be it. I’ll take my punishment. He has suffered for so long. He can have my ass and beat it red if he wants. Shit, why does that make my pussy feel as though it has its own heartbeat? I square my shoulders, dismiss the wetness between my thighs, and smile. “I’m not leaving.”
    The corner of his mouth lifts. “You agree to the terms, then?”
    “Yes.”
    “Tell me,” he lifts his chin, gazing down at me, “what’s expected of you on day three of our little visit? I want to hear you say it.”
    “I’m not going to—”
    “How am I to believe that you’ll follow through with your end of the bargain if you can’t even say it?”
    “This is ridiculous.”
    “Say it.”
    “Fine! I’ll bend over the sofa so you can spank me and fuck me. There, are you happy?”
    “No.” The other side of his mouth lifts. “I won’t be happy until your naked ass is thrust out in the air, and my hand is coming down hard on it again and again. And, although, the spanking I do plan to give you will indeed hurt, your pussy will be wet and waiting for me to fill it. Won’t it?”
    “Fuck you,” I say my face and pussy flushing with heat already.
    “Yeah, babe, that’s what I’m going to do…fuck you.” He laughs, no doubt seeing my blush. “Ya know, you come back here and think you can fix things, fix me.” His mouth thins as his expression hardens. “But I don’t want to be fixed. And, after I do fuck you, the next thing that I’m going to do is walk up those stairs and get high. But, hey, if you want to offer me your pussy, then I got no problem using it.”
    “You’re an asshole.”
    “I did warn you, babe. I’m not the same guy you left behind.”
    “I didn’t leave you behind, Slate. You cheated on me. You broke us. You did that.”
    “Fuck. We were never gonna last, and you know it. We were nothing but high school sweethearts. That’s it.”
    “We were more than that, and you know it . We were friends, too.”
    “You were never my friend,” he says, glaring down at me, and all I see in his dark eyes is anger. What happened to him?
    “How can you say that? All those years before we started dating, you and I were friends.”
    “Right,” he gruffly chuckles. “It’s those kinds of delusions that’ve gotten you into this mess. You think you know everything, think you understand what’s going on, but you don’t. You go ahead, though. You think whatever you want.” He walks over to the fridge, opens it, and takes out a bottle of water. He downs half of it, sets it on the nook, and looks at me with a brow lifted.
    Is the son-of-a-bitch serious? Never my friend? How can he say that? “Wow, you really have changed.”
    “Yeah, I have.” He smiles suggestively. “And the way I see it, we’ve got a few hours before you get to see who I really am. So, is there anything you want to do before that happens?” His eyes drop to my heaving chest and I feel them burning through my thin tank top. He’s certainly changed. He’s never been this forward, this blunt, or this sexual. He said he was going to spank me and then fuck me. My Slate never talked like that. Dammit, I hate to admit it, but a part of me likes him talking this way. I like him raw and uncensored. Too bad it’s taken all of this shit for him to get this way.
    “Why don’t we sit down and talk for a bit,” I say, trying to draw away from the sexual tension brewing between us.
    He flashes his elusive dark eyes back up at me, grabs the bottle of water from the table, and walks past me. He sits down on the sofa, lounges back, and sprawls an arm along the top of the cushion. “You can talk.” He rests his head back.
    As I gaze into those dark eyes, I have to say he looks older. He’s not the