Obedient (The Plunge Crew Book 2) by Heather Stone

1
    Bryce
    W orthless .
    Totally fucking worthless.
    I'm the black sheep of the family—well, I would be if I had a family. It's just my brother and me. Our parents died when I was young. But I'm glad they're not here to see what I have turned into.
    A worthless embarrassment.
    I'm sitting at the courthouse waiting for yet another verdict. Another Friday wasted in court, but I'll be lucky to escape jail this time. Bail won’t even be an option over the weekend. I’ll be forced to spend the next three days behind bars. I’ve already used up my three strikes. Sitting in what reminds me of a pew, I watch all the other delinquents file in waiting to hear what punishment they will receive for their crime. I should be nervous, but I'm just annoyed. Why can’t I just fucking straighten my shit out?
    I've played this game before.
    Criminal possession of a controlled substance in the 5th degree. I came without an attorney because it’s pointless. I'm going to jail. I won't ask my brother for any more favors. He’s had to bail me out before and I refuse to ask him again. My IOU to my brother Brian is already piling up by the second. No need to add any more. I should be freaking the fuck out…but I’m just bored.
    I'm about to doze off when someone sits beside me. Looking over, I perk up at the mousey brunette in the seat next to mine, her fingers twirling in nervousness. I take her in from head to toe. She’s dressed in a conservative skirt and blouse, with her hair in a tight bun. She's ultra-sexy underneath that school teacher vibe she's throwing. I bet she's dirty in bed. The mousey looking ones usually are.
    “What did they get you for?” I ask in an uninterested tone.
    “Wha-what?” she stammers out.
    My eyebrows rise. “Why are you here?”
    “Speeding,” she whispers as though saying it out loud might conjure up more problems.
    “You’re awfully nervous for just a speeding ticket,” I jest.
    “I’m not nervous,” she squeaks.
    “Right. Is that why your fingers won’t stop moving, and you’re holding your breath?”
    She narrows her eyes. “For your information, I’ve never had a speeding ticket before,” she snaps.
    “Not surprised. That hair of yours is wound pretty tightly in that bun. I bet you never let it down.” I shrug my shoulders in boredom.
    “You’re an ass.”
    My eyes widen in surprise. “So you do have a backbone after all. Interesting.”
    She scoffs, her lip curling in disgust. “Just leave me alone.”
    “I don't think you want me to leave you alone. I’m distracting you from why you’re here.”
    She quirks her eyebrow and scrunches her nose.
    “Your fingers have stopped moving, and you’re breathing again. My guess is you would love me to distract you in other ways.”
    She mock gags, putting her finger to her mouth.
    “I bet you're really not this uptight. It's an act, isn't it?”
    “What the hell are you talking about? I don't even know you and you don’t know anything about me,” she grates.
    I’ve managed to piss her off. I should stop, but I can’t. I like watching her squirm under my perusal. “I know your type. You like to be bent over and spanked.”
    She gasps. “You're a pig.”
    “I might be, but I could show you so many things, little girl, and you’d love every… single… one,” I say quietly so nobody else can hear.
    “Don't flatter yourself,” she stammers out. “You are not my type. You’re a criminal.”
    “I’m every woman’s type.”
    She purses her lips. “Why are you here anyway? Murder?”
    I chuckle. “Clearly, you've never been to court. I'm pretty sure murderers aren’t allowed to sit in seats with speeders.”
    “No, I haven’t. I told you, I’ve never even had a ticket. I’m not like you.” Looking forward, she pretends to dismiss me. I obviously don’t let her.
    “You might not be like me, but you want it feels like to be. You’re intrigued because I’d venture to say nobody has ever talked to you the way I am