Let the record reflect: Picking a lock is easy. Or, it would be, if I weren’t pressed up against a giant hottie. Electricity runs through my body, tiny shocks pulsing between my legs. My head swims with Garrett’s deep voice and patient instruction. He’s so gentle, yet he carried me like a war prize just a few minutes before. Carried me in and spanked me. Oh God. Every time I think of it, my belly gets fluttery, and my p***y clenches. And even when he threatened me, I felt safe.
My shaking fingers slip. “I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can. Try again. It’s easy once you have the hang of it. Slow and steady, Counselor,” he murmurs as I jiggle the pick back and forth.
One by one, I release the pins, and the wrench turns. “I did it!”
He grins as he opens the door for me. I try to give the tools
