Chapter 2

Chapter Two

" W hat do you mean you're here for me?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded faint and even a little scared. What the hell was going on?

"You're out of control, Dorothy." Behind the desk, her father wore the same weary expression she'd gotten so used to seeing over the past year. But now there was a glint of determination in his eye she'd never seen before and her stomach rolled at the sight. "So here's what's going to happen. You don't get access to your trust fund for another three years. And unless you agree to a summer on Uncle Luke's ranch, I will revoke your access to that fund entirely. You'll never see a single cent of it. Not only that, but I will cut you off from our family accounts, cards, everything. I'll find you an apartment, which I will pay the first six months' rent on. But after that, you will be out in the world, completely on your own."

The room spun around her. This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening.

She'd expected some pushback from her parents after her last run-in with the police. She'd expected raised voices and tears and more of their empty threats.

But never in a million years had she expected this . "You can't do that! It's my money! You can't just take it from me!"

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, sweetheart." Despite having just issued the most drastic ultimatum possible, her father's voice was surprisingly gentle. "I can, and I will. I refuse to simply stand by and let you ruin your life, Dorothy. And I"—he paused, his throat working as if he were holding back tears—"I genuinely think the program will be good for you."

Pushing up from the couch, she jabbed a finger in her father's direction. "Fuck you, and fuck Uncle Luke's ‘program'. I'm leaving."

"Stop right there." Uncle Luke's thundering voice had her freezing in place. "You are not going anywhere until you've made your decision. A summer with me, or the independence you seem to want so badly."

She froze in place, her heart hammering at her chest as she considered her options. There was no possible way she was going to agree to go with Uncle Luke. It wasn't even an option.

But she also couldn't let her parents cut her off completely. She'd never held a job, never so much as filled out a resume. And since she'd dropped out of school, her career options didn't include anything that would afford her the life of luxury she'd always known.

Desperation clawed at her insides as she turned to face her father's desk. For once, the plea on her face and in her voice wasn't the least bit fake. "Daddy, please. I'm sorry. I promise I'll be on my best behavior from now on. But please, please, don't make me do this."

Her father's expression softened considerably, and she knew she had him. Relief flooded her, nearly making her knees weak.

"I don't know…"

"I promise, I'll be better." Puffing out her bottom lip, she let it tremble, widening her eyes so the sting filled them with tears. "Please, Daddy?"

"Well, if you promise…"

"Jerry."

Two syllables. It only took two syllables, spoken in that rough, deep voice to have her father's spine straightening again. His expression turned hard once more, and he shook his head. "No. Your Uncle Luke is right. We've heard plenty of your empty promises in the past. This is it, Dorothy. Spend the summer with Luke, or lose access to every cent we have. It's your choice."

Panic and pure, boiling hatred replaced that moment of relief. But she couldn't let it show. Getting mad would only provoke them and make the situation worse. "At least give me a couple of days to think about it."

Her father's gaze flicked to something above her head. Luke . His gaze held there for a moment, almost pleading before he sighed and shook his head. "No." Pulling open a drawer, he retrieved a stack of papers and slid them across the desk to her. "Sign the contract for the program, or go upstairs and pack your bags."

Never in her life had she seen her father so immovable. And it was all because of Uncle Fucking Luke.

Mind racing, she tried to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. But what was she supposed to do when they were threatening to hold her very livelihood hostage? Maybe if she had a bit more time to think, to figure something out, but she didn't. All she had was right now, and right now she couldn't see any way out of the mess she'd somehow landed herself in.

Sniffling dramatically, she nodded. "All right. I'll go with Uncle Luke."

Visible relief flashed across her father's face, fanning the flames of her simmering anger. Was he really so desperate to be rid of her?

"It's just a couple of months, sweetheart. And it will be good for you. You'll see." There was a hint of plea in her father's voice, and she wondered for the briefest of moments if he was trying to convince her, or himself.

Because the words burning on her tongue were uglier than even she was prepared to utter, she silently accepted the pen from him and stared down at the papers. "What's in the contract?"

"Read it. Thoroughly," Uncle Luke instructed, his stern voice sending a shiver up her spine that wasn't entirely unpleasant or unwelcome. "Because once you sign it, you belong to me, little darlin'. And I will hold you to every initial on every dotted line whether you've read it or not."

"Whatever. It's not like I have a choice anyway, right? So I might as well just sign it." Bending down, she scanned the first sheet of paper until she saw a spot for her initials. She scribbled DMR on the dotted line and flipped the paper over.

"Is she always this stubborn?" Uncle Luke asked, clearly directing the question toward her father as though she wasn't standing right fucking there.

"Why do you think we called you?" her father replied, sounding so weary and exhausted it sent a pang of grief stabbing at her chest. Jesus, she hadn't been that awful, had she?

Fighting back the tears stinging her eyes, she signed the last page of the contract with a flourish and tossed the pen onto the desk. "There. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack."

Luke shifted sideways, subtly but undeniably blocking her path. "First, apologize to your father for being so rude."

With an indelicate snort, Dorothy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's not going to happen. Look, I signed your stupid contract, okay? So just get the fuck out of my way so I can go pack for my summer of ‘rehabilitation' or whatever."

Something flickered in the dark pools of his eyes. Something that had her backing up a step. Something primal.

Something… dangerous.

"Guess we'll do this the hard way, then."

Before she had a chance to ask what the ‘hard way' was, his hand was wrapped around her arm. But instead of turning her around and forcing her to apologize as she'd half expected, he dragged her over to the couch.

Within seconds, Luke was seated, and Dorothy found herself staring at the gleaming hardwood beneath him. What the hell was he playing at?

She didn't have to wonder for long. Something hard and heavy crashed against her ass and pain radiated through her, stealing her breath.

Oh, fuck. He was spanking her. Again.

Another heavy swat landed, shocking her out of her stupor. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she screeched, kicking her legs and wiggling with every ounce of strength she had to try and escape his grasp.

But his hold on her didn't budge. "I'm giving a naughty little girl the discipline she so badly needs, that's what I'm doing."

"Stop it right now! You can't do this! I'll call the police!"

His hand cracked against her ass several more times, bringing tears to her eyes. "I absolutely can do this, darlin'. You signed the contract, which gives me permission to discipline you however I see fit. Including turning this bottom of yours nice and red whenever you refuse to follow my instructions."

Fuck . Maybe she should have read the contract, after all. "That can't be legal!"

"I'll be happy to let you call the police and test that theory out, as soon as you apologize to your father."

The pain in her ass—the actual pain, not Lucas Callaway—was growing worse and worse with every swat. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

In yet another shocking twist, the spanking stopped and Luke let out a loud, rumbling laugh that had her shaking in place over his knee. "You really believe that, don't you, darlin'?"

"I believe it because it's true!"

"Agree to disagree, then."

"Daddy, stop him! Stop him!" she screeched, all while bucking and struggling in place over Luke's knee while his hand connected over and over again with her backside.

"He isn't going to save you, darlin'. You belong to me now, and nobody is going to stop me from giving you the punishment you so richly deserve."

The heat in her ass seemed to shoot straight to her pussy at his words. Which must have been some weird side effect of the spanking, because there was absolutely no way she was turned on by this barbaric treatment.

"Little girls who act like spoiled brats get treated like spoiled brats." A hard swat caught the bottom curve of her ass, where unfortunately her skirt wasn't long enough to protect her bare skin from his heavy hand. "Let me know when you're ready to apologize, darlin'. And for your sake, I hope it's soon because my hand is getting tired."

"Then stop spanking me, you asshole!"

He laughed again, though this time he didn't pause the spanking. "Nope. Once my hand gets tired, my belt comes off."

"Luke, that seems a bit unnecessary," her father finally said, his voice sounding uncertain like he couldn't decide if he actually wanted to interrupt or not.

Bastard.

"You called me for a reason, Gerald. Let me do my job."

She tried to tell herself the sudden tears in her eyes had nothing to do with Luke referring to her as a ‘job' and everything to do with the pain in her ass. Because she was just a job to Luke. The only reason he was even here was because her father had hired him to rehabilitate her or whatever.

There was no reason for her to get all in her feelings over it.

Luke stopped spanking and she sagged over his knee, relief making her body weak as she panted for breath. But that relief was short-lived.

"My hand sure is tired, darlin'. Guess it's time to switch things up."

Panic locked around her chest like a vice and she scrambled to push up off his lap now that he'd released his hold on her. "No, no, I'll apologize, I'll apologize!"

A smile spread across Luke's stupidly handsome face. "Glad to hear it. I'm sure your father will be, too. Go on, then."

She shot him a furious glare before turning to face her father, who was standing and watching the entire thing with what could only be described as fascination. Hurt welled up inside her, worse than the pain from the beating she'd just endured, but she wasn't about to let either of them see that. "I'm sorry I was rude."

Silence filled the den until Luke cleared his throat. "Gerald? Something you'd like to say?"

"Oh. Um. I forgive you, sweetheart."

Her father opened his arms and she simply stared at him. He couldn't seriously expect her to hug him after all this!

Ignoring the ridiculous offer, she turned back to Luke. "May I go pack now?"

Luke's eyes narrowed, and for a moment she thought he would deny her. But after a long moment he nodded, though she got the distinct impression he wasn't all that happy about it. "Go on, then. Meet me in the foyer in half an hour. If I have to come get you, my belt will be coming off, little girl."

Without bothering to acknowledge the threat, she fled the office and raced up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her with enough force to rattle the frame.

She paced the spacious room, her mind racing as she tried to come up with a plan. Katie would come to pick her up, she was sure of it, but how the hell was she supposed to sneak out of the house? No doubt Uncle Luke and her father would be watching to see if she tried to escape. And as badly as she wanted to flee, she was not about to risk Uncle Luke taking his belt off.

Even if, now that the burn in her bottom was fading, her clit was throbbing as she remembered what it had felt like to be trapped over his knee, helpless as a child as he lectured and spanked her into submission.

Collapsing back onto her bed, she stared up at her canopy as her fingers tugged at the hem of her skirt seemingly of their own accord. The spanking played over and over in her mind as she slipped her hand into her panties.

Oh, god. She was soaked . Wetter than she could ever remember being with another man. The shame and humiliation of it had her face burning hot even as she pressed a fingertip to her clit. And that shame only seemed to fuel her need as she worked her clit furiously, until the pleasure inside her fractured after almost no time at all.

The tears finally came as she lay there, gasping for air, wondering what the hell was wrong with her that dreaming about being punished by her godfather, by a man she'd known her entire life, had given her the best orgasm of her entire life.