Temping for the Jerk -
A hot, wild ride.

Then the men said goodnight, and I thought we were in the clear, except Phillip leaned over to me as they waited for the elevator and said, “He’s not a toy. He’s a man. Just be sure you know that.” I was pretty sure everyone else heard him. He didn’t whisper it, but no one reacted. Not even Conan. I just nodded and said goodnight as the men got into their elevator, going down to the lobby while Patrick and I waited for a separate elevator to go up to our rooms.

​

As soon as the door opened, Patrick pulled me in, pushed the button for the fiftieth floor, and pressed me against the back of the elevator before I selected my floor. His hands followed the curves of my body from top to bottom, caressing my sides before meeting around my narrow waist. Then his left hand slipped under the drape of my dress to stroke me over my thong as he bent down to claim my mouth, his right hand threaded in my hair. The elevator doors hadn’t even had time to close around us and I knew for a fact there were cameras in the elevators, and I should have fought him off or pushed against his chest, or something. Anything. But no, I dug my nails into the back of his thick, knotty neck as his tongue tangled with mine. I could taste and smell the rich red wine we’d enjoyed at dinner, but I knew he wasn’t drunk and neither was I. We were sober, but high on desire, the afternoon’s unsatisfied yearning growing into something neither of us had a handle on now.

​

“If I claim you, Ana Rosa,” he breathed against my lips. “Lord, if I claim you, I’m lost. If I don’t...”

He didn’t say what, he just kissed me harder, lifting me up so I could feel his erection pressing on my lower belly. And he’d called me by my name, so I knew I was in trouble, and my panties were soaked. He knew that too, so I couldn’t even lie and say I didn’t want him. I didn’t care what came next. I didn’t. I just pulled him closer and let him crush me against the elevator wall, possessing my mouth as if it had been his all along and he’d only let others borrow it for a while. No one would kiss me like this again. I knew that immediately. Not that anyone had before. Still, I trailed my tongue from his lips to his hard jaw and his ear.

​

“I’m not your type,” I whispered, though it was more of a sigh.

“You’re nobody’s type, Peanut,” he growled, gripping my chin.

Then the elevator dinged, and he pulled me out by the hand.

“I don’t have my things!” I argued as he dragged me down to his door. “I’m not making a walk of shame at the Mandarin Oriental, like some escort you called overnight!”

He smacked my ass so hard I yipped like a puppy. I settled long enough for him to open the door leading to the living room of a suite as large as an apartment with a panoramic view of the skyline and Central Park that was absolutely breathtaking.

I didn’t get the chance to appreciate it for long, though.

Conan dragged me over to the dusty-blue sofa, dropped me over his lap so my torso lay on the plush settee on the end, locked my legs between his, lifted the skirt of my dress and started smacking the bare cheeks of my ass like he was playing the drums to summon his clan. The pain of it seared deep into me, and I couldn’t hold back a wail.

“I’m sorry!” I said, and I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what I was sorry for. He didn’t even have to say. I had teased him. I knew that. I had played with him. I had provoked Conan, even while appeasing him, from the very beginning. I had definitely taunted him tonight. His message was simple, delivered through firmly delivered claps of thunder. You don’t play with Conan. He’s not here to play. Phillip warned me, but I didn’t think even he knew what I was in for. Or maybe he did.

“Is it like your books, Peanut?” he asked as he squeezed hard on my burning cheeks. “Does real life live up to your fantasy?”

​

And it kind of did, but it didn’t. I mean, the effect was hot as boiled milk, and I was the one frothing over. I wanted him so desperately that part of my tears stemmed from longing, but it definitely also hurt like he’d paddled me with a thick block of wood and not just his hands. Of course, his hands were larger and stronger than your average paddle.

“You’re meaner,” I said, through tears. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want me!”

“No, Ana Rosa, I said I couldn’t have you, and that’s different.”
He stroked my ass gently with those same hands, which were incredibly versatile. It

felt so right and so wrong. I was out of my mind, wishing his fingers would just dip down a little and sneak under the gusset to stroke my clit.

“Now,” he said, “go to your room.”

“What?”

“You heard me, young lady.” He lifted me up to sit on his lap and kissed the tip of my nose, gathering my tears before they dripped.

“That’s it? I get a spanking?”
“You earned it,” he said.
“Okay, but...”
“But what?” He ran his hand up between my legs, stopping just short of where they

needed to be. Just another fucking inch. That was all I wanted. Just a light stroke.

“Is this pussy hungry?”

“Yes,” I sighed.

“Too bad,” he said, pulling his hand back. “We have an important meeting in the morning and I need you sharp.”

“I think I hate you, Patrick,” I said, rising from his lap. I headed for the front door of the suite.

“Where are you going?” he asked, grabbing me by the arm.
“To my room.”
“What did I tell you about walking away from me?” He pulled me away from the door

and down to the left of the living room. “That was just a warm-up. I can do much more if you provoke me, you know.”

​

I was thinking about whether I could take more, and almost erring on ‘yes’, when he opened the door to a lavish bedroom. They decorated it in shades of cream and gold, with an equally incredible view of the city through floor to ceiling windows that spanned the entire corner.

“This is your room now,” Patrick said. “All your things are here already.”

“What?”

“No need for us to waste good money on a separate room for you when there are two bedrooms in my suite,” he said. “I had you moved.”

“What?”
“Are your ears not working, Peanut?”
“Where will you sleep?” I asked.
“In the master bedroom, of course,” he said. “But not yet. I’m going to unwind for a bit

and you’re getting a time out for misbehaving.”
“Just because I said Henry could come to my room to look at my aunt’s designs?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know why, Peanut,” he said. “You know.”
“What is happening?” I asked, because I really was confused at this point.
 

Patrick wanted me, but he didn’t, but he did, but he didn’t. He would not sleep with me,

but spanking me was perfectly okay; so was kissing me like he wanted to melt my body and weld it to his permanently. That was fine. But I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t anybody’s type. What did that even mean?

“Do you want to be mine, Peanut?” he asked.

I looked up at his eyes and saw he burned for my answer, and dreaded it at the same time. Conan ached as much as I did, though maybe not his butt. God, my butt stung something awful. I felt it thumping through me, all the way to my throat. Then I realized that was my heart.

“Yes, please,” I said. “Very much.”
He stroked my cheek with his thumb as his large hand cupped my face.
“You’re too young to say that,” he said. “Why would you want an old man like me in

your life?”
“You’re not old,” I said, “and I’m not young. We’re just right.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” he said. “Even if you do, I’m not sure

that you’re ready to take it.”
“I’m not a virgin, Patrick,” I said. “I’m not naive either. I’ve seen and done more than

you think. I live alone because I know what I want and I hadn’t found it until Tuesday. I want you.”

“It’s just supposed to be a ploy,” he said. “If it becomes real, everything will change.” “At work, you mean?”
“Everywhere,” he said. “I want and expect things I’m not sure you’d be comfortable

giving me.”
“Anything,” I said. “I’d give you anything, sir.”
“Go to your room, Peanut,” he said. His face was still hard as a statue, but his eyes

twinkled at me. “Think awhile. Change into something comfortable. Cool off and get your head on straight. If you still feel that way in twenty minutes, I’ll have popcorn and jelly beans in the media room. We can sit and talk, or watch a movie, or both.”

“Are you sorry you spanked me?” I asked as I slowly closed the door on him. “No, Peanut,” he said, grinning. “I’m sorry I stopped.”