Free Spanked by the Vet by Christa Wick Page B

monthly checks signed by someone else. I could have been dead for all he knew!
    Clearly, Cayce Gerard didn’t give a damn about me and probably never had. All the little acts of kindness over the years, the shoulder to cry on when some boy hurt my feelings — all of that had been exposed as a sham since daddy died.
    Cayce moved toward his bedroom for fresh clothes. Spoiling for a fight, I followed after him. I couldn’t face Howard again, at least not without going to jail. I wanted to cut that man’s balls off. Since I don’t think I’d do very well in prison, Cayce was the next best target for my anger.
    He deserved it, too.
    I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ll pout if I want to.”
    “Frank spoiled you.” Bending down, Cayce slid the bottom drawer of his dresser open. Water still clung to his torso from the wet shirt, making him look like he’d just stepped out of the shower and into the clingy gym shorts that molded so enticingly to his muscular ass when he reached down like that.
    A shiver of appreciation ran through me before I forced myself to look away. “Leave daddy out of this. He only did right by you.”
    “True, princess. But did he do right by you?” Taking out a clean t-shirt, he tossed it onto the bed and started for the bathroom. “I mean, why else do you always pick these whiners with wallets? You’ve been like that since high school, but that guy tonight was the worst. What did you see in him, Ashley?”
    Cayce looked at me. I cocked an angry brow at him. He didn’t deserve an answer and he wouldn’t like the one I had to give him. That much was clear from his prolonged absence.
    He slapped a towel over his shoulder and growled. “Answer me, little girl.”
    I pressed my lips tighter. There was no way to tell Cayce that I picked guys like Howard because they were the exact opposite of Cayce. Or that all my ex-boyfriends didn’t mind dating fat girls, which was not something I had ever seen Cayce do. All the girls who had hung on his arm during high school were cheerleaders or pretty and thin enough to be on the team.
    I didn’t want to admit my fat girl insecurities, but, far more than that, I didn’t want to even think about that first reason — my feelings for Cayce. Just talking to him on the phone made my knees weak. Actually looking at him left me wet and struggling to breathe. Every year my body’s reaction to Cayce grew worse, but the attraction remained a one-way street. From cleaning my skinned knees when I was in junior high right up to the scene at the restaurant and the lecture-filled, patronizing walk to his apartment, Cayce had treated me like his little sister.
    I ached and yearned and I didn’t want a husband or a boyfriend with that kind of power over me. All Cayce had to do was scowl at me and I felt my heart grinding to dust like dried butterfly wings.
    How was I supposed to tell the big jerk that I had it really, really bad for him?
    “You’re pushing my patience, Ash.” Slowly drawing the towel from his shoulder, he exited the bathroom.
    Crossing my arms, I forced myself to look at him. Well, I looked at his left ear. My pussy was tingling too much to risk anything more. His face is as overwhelming as his body. Pale gray eyes, dark lashes, a heavy brow and that mouth. It’s the easiest thing in the world for me to get lost looking at that mouth of his — expressive, full, the lips a brownish red like his nipples, with a faint part at their center showing a hint of teeth. Just watching him eat an apple is near-orgasmic.
    The things I had imagined him doing with those lips and teeth and tongue would make a seasoned hooker blush.
    “We’re not leaving until you answer me, princess.”
    Showing me he had all the time in the world, Cayce started drying off. My pulse kicked into high gear at the sight of the cloth caressing his arms and chest. A fresh twinge of need rippled through my pussy. I wanted to take the towel and rub it all over the chiseled abs