“You really want me to handcuff you?” he asked.
She bit her lips, the action so unconsciously sexy it sent a jolt through his body and down to his dick. “I really do.”
“Why?”
“Do I have to know why something turns me on?” she asked. “If so, I like the idea of putting myself here, of my own free will. Letting you keep me, because I want you to. Because that first time I didn’t have a choice...well, I didn’t have a choice once I’d made the several bad ones I made that got me arrested in the first place.”
“That’s a little twisted,” he said, even as his gut tightened.
“And what’s your point? Isn’t it a little twisted that I came back to town and fell into your arms?” She traced his jawline with her forefinger, a wicked smile on her face. “To tell you the truth, I think you like twisted a little bit.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her down so that she was lying flat on the seat, then he gripped her hands, deftly putting the cuffs on. In many ways, he was more confident in his ability to handcuff a woman than he was in seducing her. He’d just never wanted to combine the two.
“Maybe I do,” he said, his words rough.
She saw things in him. The dark things. The secret things. And he couldn’t deny, something in him liked it. Because it meant he didn’t have to hide. Didn’t have to try so hard to be upstanding.
Very few people would call what he was doing now upstanding, and he knew that. But they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her.
“Now what?” he asked.
“I think you’re the one in charge,” she said, blue eyes wide.
“I guess I am.” He traced her lower lip with the edge of his thumb, his eyes intent on hers, watching to make sure she wasn’t nervous or afraid. “You okay with that?”
Her mouth curved upward beneath his thumb. “It’s kinda what I asked for, right?”
“I promise to make it worth it.”
He lowered his hand to her stomach, pushing her shirt upward, watching the muscles contract as she took a short, sharp breath. He pushed it up higher, his fingers brushing the rounded underside of her breast before sliding up farther, the fabric of her T-shirt folding over his hand as he moved his thumb across her tightened nipple, barely covered by her whisper-thin bra.
Her head fell back, her hands lifted upward, bound by the cuffs.
“Good?” he asked.
“Mmm.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He moved his hands to her jeans, unsnapped them, cursing the stiff denim as he hauled it down her thighs and pushed it, and her shoes and socks, off her legs.
“This was just an excuse to get me to do all the work, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Ah, darn,” she said. “You’re onto me.”
He looked at her, her top pushed up, barely covering her breasts, bright blue panties low on her hips, standing out against her pale skin. “I’m finding it hard to be too upset about it.”
He slipped his finger beneath the waistband of her panties, his breath hissing through his teeth as he felt the soft hair beneath the silken fabric. As he moved lower and felt how wet she was for him. How much she liked this game.
Well, he liked it, too. It was everything he never thought he’d do, things he’d never thought he’d want, and now he was all in, shaking with need. Unable to turn back.
He didn’t even want to.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her stomach, her skin soft beneath his lips. He breathed in deep, taking in the scent of her arousal, the scent of her.
He lifted his head and looked at her, at her flushed cheeks, her blond hair tumbling over her shoulders. This was not his life. This was not the kind of thing that happened to him. Not the kind of beauty he was allowed to indulge in.
He almost couldn’t breathe. Everything in him was bound up, suspended in the moment.
He reached into his pocket and took out a condom, shrugging his pants and underwear down his legs while holding tight to the plastic condom packet. “I did this out of order.” He tugged his T-shirt up over his head, fighting with the tight space of the car.
She giggled. “I’m suddenly remembering why, since becoming an adult with my own bed, I haven’t revisited my backseat days.”
“I never had to use one.”
“Oh, am I your first?” she asked.
“You are. My first for quite a few things in this particular instance. And now, my first woman in handcuffs in more than one way.”
He tore open the condom and rolled it over his cock, his chest muscles seizing up as his fist squeezed his aching flesh tight.
She arched her hips upward and he positioned himself, pressing his arousal against her cloth-covered sex, heat shooting up through his teeth when he made contact with her. He rocked against her and she gasped, arching upward, pressing her breasts to his chest, the metal handcuffs clanking against the window.
“Oh...please,” she said.
He didn’t need any encouragement, not when he felt like he needed to be inside her five minutes ago. But he loved to hear her beg. Loved that she was at his mercy.
Who the hell was he?
