The Cowboy's Secret (Cowboys After Dark: Book 3) by Maggie Carpenter

didn’t say anything or look back at him.
    Excellent start, he thought. This might be easier than I anticipated.
    “You think about why your ass is on fire, you think about what a brat you are, how rude you are to the parents who have done nothin’ but love you. Think about all the crap you’ve pulled, and in a little while we’re gonna have a conversation.”
    Ambling into the kitchen he set the oven timer for ten minutes, and was pouring himself a mug of coffee when he thought he heard something near the back door. Moving quickly to the window he peered through the side of the curtain, and to his surprise he saw Sam had Amelia by the arm and was walking her back to the track that led to the barn.
    Damn. She actually came up here to nosey around. Looks like I’ll be spankin’ you sooner than I thought, little lady.
    Relieved that Sam had caught her in time, and still somewhat bewildered that Amelia would do such a thing, he moved back to the counter, grabbed his coffee, and picking up Anastasia’s bag where she’d dropped it on the floor, he settled on the couch to search out her phone.
    Flipping through her text messages he wasn’t surprised to find topless photographs of herself, along with naked pictures of a man named Wayne. Dozens of sexy texts had passed between them, with Wayne doing his best to persuade her to ‘go all the way.’
    There were also messages in which she boasted about it easy it was to sneak out her second story window, but the texts asking if he could score more weed were the most troubling.
    None of this is good, but askin’ him to score weed? Damn! This has to come to a screechin’ halt!
    Standing in the corner Anastasia was still coming to grips with Clint’s unexpected attack. Even though she’d heard stories about the cowboy and his ‘woodshed,’ she had thought he would just sit her down and scold her, and maybe smack her on the butt a couple of times. The crop had stung like crazy, and Clint Hogan had totally stunned her.
    I have to find a way out of this. Shit. I’ll just agree with everything he says, like I do with dad. I just have to be really convincing.
    It was at the same time that Amelia was spreading the stable blanket on top of the tack trunk, that the oven timer in the guest house sounded its bell, startling Anastasia and telling Clint the ten minutes was up.
    Grabbing the ottoman where it lived by the wall, he moved it in front of the couch and sat back down.
    “All right, Anastasia, you can drop your hands and come on over here”
    Turning around she walked slowly towards him, spying the deadly crop on the couch and the ottoman in front of him.
    What the fuck? Now what?
    “Kneel in front of the ottoman, sideways to me,” he directed.
    Nervously moving forward, doing her best to convince herself she could win the battle, she settled on her knees and looked over at him.
    “Hands on the opposite side,” he instructed.
    “Are you gonna whip me?” she asked, doing her best to sound scared and childlike.
    “That depends on you,” he answered. “If you don’t do exactly what I say, and answer my questions honestly, yes. Now put your hands on the opposite edge of the ottoman like I asked,” he repeated, picking up the crop and resting it on her bottom.
    Leaning forward she realized her backside was perfectly positioned for more punishment, and the nasty crop was already in place.
    “So, let’s begin. Tell me, Anastasia, do you think you’re a kind, thoughtful, grateful daughter?”
    “Not so much,” she frowned. “I try, but dad is so old-fashioned, and mom is a pain most of the time.”
    “Uh-huh. I’ve been told you have a relatively high IQ, but you only manage C’s, sometimes even D’s,” he remarked. “Homework is always late, if it’s done at all, and you’ve had numerous suspensions for rowdy behavior. What do you have to say about that?”
    “Nothing,” she said quietly, then added quickly, flashing him an earnest look, “but I’ll try