34

“I’m her father,” Anthony said with calm authority, his voice steady and convincing. “I just arrived after finding out she snuck out of the house tonight. Please release her to me, and I’ll take care of it from here.”

The officer’s gaze shifted to the tattoo on Anthony ’s arm. “Military?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Navy, sir,” Anthony confirmed with a firm nod, his hand still gripping my arm—not tightly, but just enough to keep me steady. “I promise, if you let her leave with me, she won’t be causing any more trouble tonight.”

The officer studied Anthony for a moment before nodding in approval. “Alright, but make sure she stays in line.”

Anthony offered a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t worry. She’s got a lot to answer for when we get home.”

The officer smirked. “Back in my day, we didn’t talk back without feeling the belt afterward.”

I froze, wide-eyed. Did he just say that? Did he think Anthony was about to do the same?

Anthony nodded solemnly, his expression unreadable. “I’ll make sure she learns her lesson, Officer.”

That was when my booze-soaked brain betrayed me. “I don’t want another spanking—especially not with a belt!” I blurted out, my voice too loud and my words too slurred to be anything but embarrassing.

The officer chuckled, clearly amused by the spectacle, while I silently prayed for the ground to swallow me whole.

“Behave on the way home, young lady,” the officer teased with a grin. “You might be in for a rough time sitting tomorrow.”

Anthony matched his grin, adding, “I’ll make sure she gets home safely, sir.”

I stared at them, my mind spinning. This can’t be real. Did I drink too much, or is this actually happening?

“Outside. Now,” Anthony ordered, his voice low and commanding. “Unless you want me to deal with you here—and I’m sure the officers wouldn’t mind giving me a minute.”

The officer gave a curt nod of approval, stepping aside as Anthony guided me toward the door.

Humiliated and grumbling under my breath, I allowed him to lead me outside, still stewing in the embarrassment of the situation.

Once we were out of earshot, I spun around to face him, glaring. “I can’t believe you threatened to spank me in front of the cops!”

“They didn’t need to know that’s not my job,” Anthony replied with a smirk. “But let’s be honest—you and Vincent are definitely going to have a conversation when we get home. I wasn’t lying.”

I stuck my tongue out at him in defiance. “You’re so annoying.”

Anthony ’s grin widened. “Careful. The more you act out, the worse it’s going to be for you later.”

The reality of his words hit me, and my stomach sank. “Wait… do you really think Vincent ’s going to spank me when we get back?”

Anthony shrugged casually. “Let’s just say your odds aren’t looking great right now.”

I pouted, dragging my feet as he steered me toward the car. My legs felt like jelly, and I was stumbling more with each step. Without a word, Anthony scooped me up effortlessly and carried me to the car, placing me in the passenger seat. He buckled me in with a mix of exasperation and amusement etched on his face.

“I’m in so much trouble, aren’t I?” I muttered, slumping against the seat in defeat.

Anthony started the car, throwing me a quick glance. “Vincent ’s not going to be happy, that’s for sure. But for now, just rest while I get you home.”

As the car rolled down the dark streets, the events of the night began to weigh on me. I’d only been trying to have fun, but maybe I’d gone a little too far. My thoughts drifted to the one time Vincent had disciplined me before, and I winced, remembering how much that belt had hurt.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” I mumbled, more to myself than to Anthony . “Nineteen years old, and I’m about to go home to face… whatever this is with Vincent .”

Anthony chuckled under his breath. “You’ll live.”

“You’re no help,” I shot back, crossing my arms in frustration.

He didn’t respond, but his knowing smirk said it all. As I chewed on my lip nervously, the thought of Vincent waiting at home filled me with equal parts dread and… something else I couldn’t quite name. My parents had never punished me—not that they’d been around much to do it—but this was new territory, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

My mind scrambled to find a way out of the inevitable, but no matter how I tried to spin it, every scenario ended the same: with Vincent ’s belt leaving a stinging reminder on my bare skin.

The drive home stretched on endlessly, each mile adding to the knot of dread growing in my stomach. By the time Anthony pulled into the driveway, regret weighed heavy on me. Vincent was going to be livid.

And my backside? It was about to pay the price.

Anthony parked the car, then helped me out, keeping a steadying arm around my shoulders as I wobbled. We hadn’t even made it to the door when it swung open, revealing Vincent standing there. His expression was a thunderstorm of worry and anger, his piercing eyes locking onto mine.

“What the hell happened?” Vincent demanded, his voice sharp.

“I didn’t mean to get in tro—” I slurred, the words tumbling together in a way that only made things worse.

“She had too much to drink,” Anthony explained, his tone calm but firm. “The cops showed up, and I got her out before things escalated.”

Vincent ’s jaw clenched, his gaze never leaving me. His eyes burned with disappointment—and fury.

“Jennifer , what were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Fueled by alcohol and defiance, I felt my frustration bubble over. “I was just trying to have fun! You’re not my boyfriend,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

His expression darkened, and he stepped closer, his presence commanding. “You’re more than just my girlfriend, Jennifer . You’re mine.”

The intensity of his words made my breath catch, but I was too tipsy and defiant to fully process the weight of what he’d just said.

“Whatever. You can’t control me,” I snapped, my tone dripping with rebellion.

Vincent exhaled deeply, his attempt at restraint clear. “Go upstairs and wait for me in my room. And, Jennifer ,” he added, his voice firm, “your bottom better be bare when I get up there. Now go.”

My heart sank, and a mix of anger and nerves rushed through me. “Fine,” I spat, glaring at him before stomping toward the stairs.

Each step felt heavy with frustration, echoing my defiance as I made my way to his room. Once inside, I slammed the door shut and flopped onto the bed, my mind racing.

What did he mean by ‘you’re mine’? The words replayed in my head, and despite my irritation, my heart thudded harder than ever.

For a while, I sat there stewing, but then his earlier command crept back into my thoughts.

“Your bottom better be bare when I get up there.”

I hesitated, my fingers brushing the waistband of my jeans. My pride screamed at me not to give in, and with a defiant huff, I yanked my hands away.

I’m not going to make this easy for him, I thought, crossing my arms.

Yet, despite my frustration, I couldn’t ignore the heat pooling low in my belly. My body betrayed me, and I hated it. My pulse quickened, and a dull throb settled between my thighs.

Why is this turning me on?

I glanced at the clock, watching the seconds drag by. The longer I waited, the more nervous—and aroused—I became. My fingers itched with the urge to slide beneath the fabric of my panties, the need to ease the ache growing unbearable.

Just as I was about to give in, the door creaked open. My head snapped up, and there was Vincent , his presence commanding as ever. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, his face a mix of anger and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite read.

“You had no right to go out and drink like that,” he said, his voice calm but laced with authority.