She put the dirty cups in the kitchen and took her place next to Georgia behind the counter, tray in hand. Jaxon’s boots thudded across the floor as he headed to the counter, that hard look of determination setting her nerves on edge. His gaze held the same look he’d given her in the alley when he’d promised to spank the rebellion out of her.
Georgia sidled and whispered in her ear. “I can take his order if you want.”
Tazzy shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Mr. Ruick is just another customer.”
Georgia’s brows shot up. “If you say so.”
Tazzy looked him straight in the eye. “We’re not doing this here.”
“We’re doing it now, Sprite. You walked away yesterday. You don’t get to do it again. After some of the things you did, we have things to discuss. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that someone slashing your tires made me forget about what happened with the cigarettes.”
Ignoring his words, Tazzy slapped a napkin and spoon in front of him. “What can I get you, Mr. Ruick?”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “Was going to get Jamaica Roast. Black. Now I’m thinkin’ red tea. That way I’ll have something to compare your ass to if you call me Mr. Ruick one more time.”
Heat flared low in her belly, but she ignored it. “I can get you red tea,Mr. Ruick. But it may take a minute. I don’t have any brewed.”
Jaxon stood and leaned over the counter. Slow, deliberate movements brought him so close she could smell the leather of his jacket. His voice came out as a low, rough rumble edged with fury from the warehouse. “Oh, we’re doing it now, Sprite. You’re shaking. You’re pissed. And I bet if I checked, I’d find you’re still wet from what I said I’d do to you. Don’t pretend you’re not.”
Her breath caught. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to shove him out the door. She wanted to drag him into the back room and let him prove every word.
Instead, she gripped the tray like a shield, dark eyes blazing. No way was she backing down that easy. The Little Sprite he’d left behind was dead.
Georgia gasped and looked between them. “Alrighty then. I’ll just be over there, fanning my face.” She practically ran to the far end of the counter.
“Get out, Jaxon. You’re embarrassing me. I appreciate your help with the car yesterday, but if you don’t leave, I’ll… I’ll…” She looked around the room, hoping a customer would stand up and suggest a bad enough threat. When that didn’t happen, she blurted out, “Before I scream for the cops and let them haul you away again.”
His laugh was dark and dangerous. He leaned so close his lips brushed her ear. Voice dropping to a growl, he whispered, “You canthreaten to scream if you like, little girl. We both know you won’t do it. Deep down, under all that black eyeliner and attitude, you still want your Daddy to take control. And I’m about done waiting for permission.” He straightened, his eyes locking on hers. “You have five minutes to head for the alley before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself. We are going to settle this once and for all.” He pointed at his watch. “Clock’s ticking, baby.”
Then he stalked to the cold fireplace to lean his massive frame against the mantle, crossed his arms, and waited. Every inch of him radiated fury.
Tazzy stood frozen, her chest heaving. In the alley. Again. Why did everything have to happen in the alley? Placing the tray on the counter, she took a deep breath. She was trembling, but not from fear.
No, her body screamed for the man she swore she’d never let break her heart again. And damn it, he’d been right about her panties. They were soaked.
“Suit yourself,” she muttered to herself with a shrug. Giving her best “I don’t give one slimy fig what you think” attitude, she looked over at him. His smirk said he wasn’t buying it. Figured.
Fooling him before he went to prison had been impossible. Now he was more watchful. More intense. More everything.
Grabbing a mug, she went through the motions of fixing the Jamaican coffee he wanted. She snorted at the thought of him drinking a cup of red tea. She should give it to him, just to see his face.
Her emotions swirled, a jumble of desire, joy, anger, loss, and fear. Why was this so hard? He dumped her. It should be a no-brainer to tell him to fuck off. Her hands automatically reached down to cover her bottom, sliding to her sides when she realized what she’d done.
Without thinking, she glanced over at Jaxon, as if he might be able to hear her thoughts. Images of being over his knee for even thinking a dirty word made her ache between her thighs.
On the other hand, his calm presence reassured her. “Reid assigned me to keep you safe,” he had said two days earlier. “Since we’re living together, that means I’m around twenty-four-seven. If I think for a second you’re putting yourself in danger, you’ll get the spanking ofyour life. Daddy or not. You get me?” It made her want to do something reckless.
“Tazzy, you’re spilling it,” Georgia said.
Tazzy looked down. Coffee was overflowing the cup onto the counter. “Shit,” she squeaked, pulling the cup away from the spigot.
“Language!” Jaxon barked from across the room.
The man had always had the hearing of a bat. “Sorry,” she told Georgia.
“Everything okay?” Jaxon asked.
Was that concern in his voice? “Everything’s fine,” Tazzy called back to him. “Just a spill.”