What I Wouldn't Do (Hunter Hayes - Rated R)

In the Back

Wow, so here I am. Writing another chapter probably about a year hence. I just got to thinking about this story and I was like, damn. I kind of miss writing. I'll give it another go.

Frankie stomped on Marine's foot violently, but all it did was shock the other woman into backing up a pace, her grasp on Frankie's breast and stomach still strong.

"Yeah, like that," Marine said, the hand on Frankie's stomach reaching down to rip open the buttons on the front of her jeans. Frankie bucked against her, trying every way she knew to get free, ignoring the pain in her breast as Marine squeezed brutally, her fingernails biting into the skin through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Marine laughed at Frankie's attempts to get free, swinging the small woman around and forcing her down onto the couch. Frankie screamed, but Marine took the hand from her breast and shoved it back into her mouth to silence her.

"I knew you could do it," Marine said, pulling a knife from her back pocket with her free hand. "I knew you still had a little fight in you. We tried our best to break you, didn't we?"

Marine whipped around to sit on Frankie's shoulders, facing the ass that she smacked with enough force to make her jerk. She shoved the tip of her knife blade into the crease of Frankie's jeans and left a gaping hole just over her ass hole.

"This is such a pretty pink," Marine said, running her fingers over the exposed skin. "Nobody has ever used this before, have they?" Frankie bucked again, but Marine just pressed the cold edge of the knife into Frankie's flailing ankle and she stopped cold.

"Damn you, Marine." Her voice was muffled, but her intention was clear.

Marine tsked. "Well, that's not very nice. You know, you could make this a lot easier on yourself by simply giving in. You know that, don't you?"

Frankie grimaced. She had no clue what Marine wanted, but whatever it was, it was not bound to be pleasant. Still, the point was clear: do what she said, or bear physical harm.

What do I have to lose? Hunter already hates me. I might as well hate me, too.

"Fine, Marine. What do you want?"

"That's much better, isn't it?" She climbed off, releasing her prisoner and putting her knife back into her pocket. "But not here, dearie."

Frankie got up, feeling exposed with the hole still cut in her jeans. She didn't cover it up; she refused to let Marine know that her actions had affected her.

"Where?"

Marine came closer, and her mouth landed on Frankie's for a long, languorous kiss before she finally answered.

"I want to have you in my bed. Come with me."

Then Frankie couldn't protest, as the knife was pressing into her back again, and the door was closing behind her.