Why did she have to push me? She knew exactly how to infuriate me. She knew all the right words to prod my temper. It had always been an unending tug of war between hatred and longing with her. She was selfish, spoiled, and completely self-absorbed, but she was also faking it constantly. Faking the confidence, the smiles, faking that she was a good, well-behaved girl.

Good, well-behaved girls didn’t get dripping wet when they were punished. Behind that angelic blonde hair and innocent green eyes was a masochist who undeniably craved the pain. I’d already known it and yet it still felt unbelievable.

That was what kept drawing me back in, that was what had intrigued all of us. Jessica went through life wearing a mask, but beyond that mask was a wild, twisted woman, aching for a way out. She hid it, and then she made foolish decisions to avoid admitting what she wanted.

I couldn’t make that my problem. I’d made that mistake before.

“I need to get back to my car,” Jess groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes a little reddened and swollen. If it was up to me, if she were actually mine, this would have been only the beginning of her punishment. If she were mine, she would have been standing in a corner, bare-bottomed, while she waited for her next spanking.

She wanted that — consequences, order, control, someone to pull her out of her attitude and bring her back down to reality. But unless she chose it, unless she chose us, what more was I supposed to do?

“Where are your keys?” I said. She dug around in her dress’s front pockets, finally pulling out a small set of keys on a pink lanyard. I snatched them from her hand.

“Hey! You can’t —”

“I can smell alcohol on your breath,” I said. “You’re not driving anywhere. Where’s your car?”

She folded her arms, looking off to the side as if that made her defiant stance any better. “Back at the bridge,” she said.

I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose as I looked at the cars again. Flat tires. No windows. At least they’d been scared off before they could start fucking around under the hoods. We had one client’s car in there too, but luckily it had been spared.

“I’m too damn tired for this,” I said. “I’m not dealing with it tonight. You can sleep here. We’ll take you back to your car in the morning.”

“What?” Both Jess and Lucas gaped at me in unison. Lucas was trying to keep his anger reined in, but a vein in his neck was throbbing with buried fury as he said, “You want her to stay in our fucking house?”