Disciplinary Measures Read Online Free PDF

wap, wap.
    “Crap,” Linc swore and slowed the car.
    “What’s wrong? What’s that noise?” she asked.
    He grimaced. “Flat tire.” He pulled off the highway onto the shoulder and stopped. “Shouldn’t take long to change it, and we’ll be on our way.” Heat replaced impatience as he regarded her.
    She pressed her sticky thighs together. He could toss her over the hood of the car right here on the highway, and she’d come like a screaming banshee. If he permitted it. That was a new change as well—he controlled her orgasms, telling her when she could and couldn’t come. The fact he ordered her not to increased the urge, and when he finally gave the signal, holy Christ.
    He unlocked the trunk from inside and checked traffic before pushing open his door. She moved to exit too.
    “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he said.
    “No, I’ll keep you company.” She stepped onto the shoulder and squinted into the setting summer sun casting a blush on the horizon. It was still light enough to see; Linc wouldn’t need a flashlight to change the tire.
    “Front driver’s side,” he announced and stopped to examine the flat, so she reached the trunk first. She lifted it, intending to pull back the carpeting and floorboard to uncover the spare, when she spotted a slip of pink paper. The receipt for the cocktail dresses.
    She snatched it and balled it up in her fist.
    “What’s that?” Linc appeared beside her.
    She jumped. “What’s what?”
    “You grabbed something out of the trunk.”
    “Just some trash.” Heart thumping, she ducked her head.
    “Here, I’ll throw it away.” He extended his hand.
    “That’s okay. I’ve got it. You change the tire. I’ll throw away the trash. That’s a fair division of labor.”
    He chuckled. “Okay.”
    While Linc extracted the spare tire, she scurried to the car. She didn’t dare deposit the receipt in the litterbag, on the slim chance Linc got curious, so she hid the wad in the tiny zippered bag that held her feminine hygiene products she carried in her purse.
    Why didn’t you tell him when you had the chance! Guilt churned anew.
    Her husband was jacking up the car when she came round the hood. Traffic whizzed by, creating a draft, and she held down her skirt to avoid flashing the motorists.
    Linc smirked. “Careful, sweetheart. You’ll cause an accident.” The affection in his smile stirred the bubbling mixture of desire and shame.
    His biceps bulged as he wrenched off the lug nuts, hauled away the flat, and lifted the spare into place. She admired his economy of masculine strength. It would have taken her three times as long to accomplish what he did with minimal effort. Small wonder he could carry her off to bed, hold her with one hand while slapping her ass with the other.
    Twenty-four seven . Even watching him fix a flat got her hot.
    He stowed the tools in the trunk, and they climbed into the car. She expected him to start the engine, but he pulled her to his chest and laid a hard, wet one on her lips, his tongue plundering her mouth. Motorists honked. She didn’t care but melted against him, soothing her hunger with the taste, scent, and feel of him.
    When he released her, her lips were swollen. “What was that for?”
    “The way you look at me,” he said and started the ignition.
    They were only a few miles from home, but the drive seemed to take forever. By the time Linc parked in the garage, sexual tension made Gina’s pulse race, her breathing quicken. The slightest movement caused her cunt to ache and clench. Her nipples hurt. She needed him inside her so bad she couldn’t stand it.
    He exited the car and came around to her side to help her out. “Thank you,” she said huskily. The light touch of his hand on her arm delivered tingles clear down to her clit.
    “My pleasure.”
    But it wouldn’t be his pleasure, because she’d decided to confess.
    His hand seared the small of her back as he guided her into the house. Night had fallen,