Force Me - Asking For It Read Online Free PDF

 
     
    Asking For It
     
     
     
                If she swished her ass in front of him one more time, Micaiah swore he was going to bend her over and spank that ass. Seriously, how much was a man supposed to take? Sure, he could have fired Little Miss Trina long ago. Yeah, she was good around the horses—even better with the books—but she was nothing but a walking, talking hard-on, and he’d been sporting blue balls for about two years too long. She may wear those jeans on the tight side, showcasing that lush round ass to perfection, but nothing about her suggested she would be up for the kind of loving he was itching to lay down.
     
                Unfortunately, because he was reluctant to make any kind of moves on her, he had allowed himself to get to know Trina far better than he had ever allowed himself to know any woman. Damned if he didn’t like what he’d come to know. Trina was all feisty Southern, African-American woman, with a sweet streak a mile wide. She was meticulous in her work, playful in her demeanor, and too fucking sexy for Micaiah’s peace of mind. She’d managed to not only engage his interest on a sexual level, but everything about her dared him to take her and keep her, if he were man enough. He’d watched many a cowboy, trainer, jockey, even veterinarian try to get into her pants or her heart. He’d watched them all crash and burn, the devastating blow delivered with a smile and a few honey-coated words.
     
                Fuck, he wanted her! His hands itched whenever she was near, his cock engorged, his brain ceasing to function correctly. If he fired her, all this would be over. He could go back to his life of being a cold-hearted bastard who pulled the women he wanted into his bed, never bothering to stay the whole night. He could blow their minds and leave them panting for more. That was what he excelled at. There were never any repeat performances—it gave a woman ideas. This son of a preacher man could not be tied down.
     
    Tying down was something he really shouldn’t have thought about in Trina’s presence. Not while she pranced around his office prattling on about the quarter’s profits, expenses, and whatever hell else she was talking about.  Micaiah couldn’t really say. He was too busy trying not to see her tied hands above her head, helpless to stop him from feasting on those full, heavy breasts of her. All-natural globes of temptation that bounced even though she’d tried to encase them in bras that confined their bounteous goodness from prying eyes.
     
    But he’d seen them, watched them, studied them, wanted them in his mouth, swaying in front of his face as she rode him like she rode his prized stallions. He wanted to watch as they nourished his children...
     
    Holy hell! What the fuck had she done to him? He was NOT the marrying kind, goddammit, and he was going to prove it right, dammit, now!
     
    “Trina.”
     
    She stopped fluttering around the room, almond-shaped brown eyes regarding him in wide-eyed wonder. He didn’t blame her. Anyone who worked on his horse farm knew the quieter his voice got the more serious he was.
     
    “Get on the horse.”
     
    Right there in the middle of his overly large office was an adult-sized replica of one of the horses found outside grocery stores. He’d built it himself, with a few modifications. As much as he didn't like to admit it, he got the idea about a month after Trina started working for him, in charge of the books and the rather large personnel issues. The saddle had been modified so that there were ridges right where a woman’s pussy would go. There were three speeds—one, slow and easy to build passion and tease mercilessly; two, alternation between the slow, easy speed and a rougher, faster tempo; and three, rough and fast.
     
    Trina had no idea what the large sandy horse really was—an oversized sex toy. She had no clue that he’d built it for her. Hell, he’d just admitted