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

and do better, I swear.”
    “Let’s talk about boys for a minute,” he said, inwardly smiling at her futile attempt to appease him.
    “Sure, whatever you want,” she nodded, still looking at him with innocent wide eyes.
    “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, gently tapping the crop against her seat cheeks.
    “No,” she replied lightly.
    The strike of the crop was swift and hard, eliciting a howl of pain. Bolting upright she threw her hands behind her, clutching her bottom and staring at him in disbelief.
    “What the fuck?” she gasped.
    “You get to cuss just once, and that was it,” he said calmly. “Next time you get a strike.”
    “Why, why did you hit me?” she whined.
    “I told you I would if you didn’t tell me the truth. You lied, so you got the crop. It’s really very simple Anastasia. You can’t bullshit me, not even for a second, got it?”
    Biting her lower lip she stared at him, then nodded her head.
    “Good, now then, back over the ottoman and tell me about your boyfriend. What’s his name?”
    “Wayne,” she mumbled, bending forward.
    “And how old is Wayne?”
    “Twenty-seven. He works at dad’s lumber yard.”
    “That’s how you met him?”
    “Yeah, but dad doesn’t know. He’d have a cow.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Seventeen, I’ll be eighteen in a month.”
    “Don’t you think it would be reasonable for your father to be worried if he found out you were goin’ out with a man so much older than you, a man who works for him?” Clint asked.
    “I guess,” she muttered.
    “Do you drink or do drugs?” he asked, tapping the crop.
    “I drink beer and wine, and smoke pot sometimes,” she whimpered.
    “Sometimes? How often is sometimes?”
    “I guess, every day or so,” she whispered.
    “Good, you’re doing well. See, tellin’ the truth isn’t painful. Lyin’, though, lyin’ is painful. Where do you keep your stash?”
    “In a shoebox under my other shoeboxes in my closet, but I only have a little bit left,” she confessed.
    “When was the last time you snuck out of your room?”
    “I, uh, how do you know all this stuff?” she blurted.
    “Was that the answer to my question?” he warned.
    “Two nights ago,” she said quickly.
    “Good, you just narrowly avoided another strike. Now then, this is what’s going to happen,” he began pulling the phone from her bag.
    “Hey,” she started, then immediately bit her lip.
    “Wise choice,” he smiled. “First, we’re gettin’ rid of all these disgustin’ photographs of you and your boyfriend. Ever thought what would happen if your phone got stolen? Would you like naked pictures of yourself all over the internet for anyone to see?”
    “N-no,” she stammered, “I hadn’t thought about that. Please don’t look at them again.”
    “Embarrassed?”
    “Yes,” she whimpered.
    “I just deleted all the images on your phone. Have you had sex with Wayne?”
    “No, I swear it, I haven’t,” she replied urgently.
    “If you did and got caught, Wayne would probably go to jail. Would you like to have that on your conscience the rest of your life? An unskilled guy with a sex offense record would have a tough time gettin’ on in life. You want that to happen to him?”
    “No,” she whimpered, a hot lump forming in her throat.
    “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Anastasia, but I don’t think he’d stick around for very long once he got you in bed.”
    “You don’t know that,” she protested.
    “No, I don’t, but I know guys, and screwin’ the bosses daughter would be a kick. It’s irrelevant though,” he said softly, “because you won’t be seein’ Wayne again, and your entire life is about to change.”
    “How, why, what are you talking about?” she demanded, suddenly finding a second wind of courage.
    “I understand you’re upset, but if you raise your voice to me again I’ll have to give you three hard cracks. Got it?”
    Tears brimming, she stared at him as she nodded her