by Lori Foster
Erica snatched her up for a hug, too. “And you were in the shop for so long.” She held Becky back and teased, “Had to check it all out, huh?”
“No! Of course not. It’s just that … well, George and I got to talking …”
“And?” Erica squeezed her. “Did you buy any bondage stuff?”
Blushing, Becky gestured toward the bag. “Actually, George went through the checkout for me. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Both women went mute. Asia rolled her lips in and stared at Erica with a worried frown.
Erica finally laughed. “George Westin, sweet? Now, Becky, honey, don’t get disillusioned. He’s a wolf, a hunk, the baddest of the bad boys and sexy as they come, but no way in hell would any sane woman call him sweet.”
Becky thought he was very sweet. And very sexy.
“Becky,” Asia cautioned, “he’ll eat you for dessert if you’re not careful.”
Becky’s face flamed at that unintentional double entendre. If they only knew how partial George had seemed to that idea. She remembered the way he’d stared at her lap while claiming he knew exactly how to make a woman happy in the sack.
She lifted her chin, not about to let them talk her out of her decision. She wanted George, and he was willing. That was good enough for her. “He’s the one.”
Asia surprised her by nodding in satisfaction. “I just knew it.”
Erica frowned at her. “What do you mean, you just knew it?”
“I, ah, well, I could tell he was a bit kinky and because he obviously knows women, he’ll be the perfect man for Becky. That’s all I meant.”
Becky wasn’t quite convinced, but then Erica dumped out her bag. “Oh my. Look at this stuff.”
Being fair-skinned was a curse, Becky thought, as she felt her face turn hot yet again. At this rate, she was going to give herself a sunburn.
Planning to handcuff a big muscular man to her bed for sexual purposes, and actually discussing it with her friends, were two different things. Normally she told them everything, but now, because it was George—her secret fantasy man—the idea of discussing him made her feel disloyal.
Erica, correctly reading her hesitation, looked at her with a wide smile. She pulled the velvetlined handcuffs out of the box and let them dangle from her finger. “I can just see Geoge now, all stretched out and naked, straining, sweaty, sexy …”
Becky snatched the cuffs from her and stuffed them back into the bag. “Are you two staying around awhile?”
Erica folded her arms and looked at Asia. “Is she trying to get rid of us?”
Asia lifted one brow. “Probably wanting to moon over George.”
“She can moon with us, right?”
“We’ll give her pointers.”
Erica laughed. “Have you ever tied up a man, Asia?”
“Well … no.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Asia flipped her long brown hair over her shoulders. “I have a good imagination though.”
“You’d have to, because I can’t see Cameron letting you tie him down any time in the near future.” She heaved a sigh. “Looks like it’s up to me to instruct her.”
“And I suppose you have experience in bondage?”
“Why certainly.” Erica winked. “Men are most enjoyable when controlled, you know.”
Becky ignored her friends and headed for the kitchen. She tied on a starched white apron over her denim skirt. “I’ll put on some coffee,” she called to Erica and Asia, “to go with the cookies I made this morning.”
While her two friends continued to debate sexual experiences, Becky pondered the wonders of experiences to come. Though she was nervous, she could hardly wait. Stretched out naked, straining, sweaty, and sexy … Oh yeah, she could hardly wait to see George that way.
In between conjuring up images of George naked, George touching her, George kissing her again, Becky remained aware of Asia and Erica sitting at her small kitchen table. They blustered back and forth, teasing and joking. Erica claimed to have a lot of sexual experience, and neither Becky nor Asia disbelieved her. She was a strong, confident woman, and she knew what she wanted where men were concerned. But they still liked to tease her about her hard-nosed ways with the guys.
Asia on the other hand had gotten involved with Cameron during her foray into the porn shop. Inwhirlwind fashion, they’d both fallen hard, and subsequently gotten engaged on Valentine’s Day, a mere month ago. The wedding would follow just as soon as they could get everything arranged.
As Becky measured coffee, she considered Asia and Cameron. Unlike Erica, Becky didn’t doubt for a minute that Cameron would let Asia do whatever made her happy, even if it meant tying him up.
“When’s the big date, hon?” Erica asked.
Drawn from her thoughts, feeling the tiniest bit melancholy because Asia had found something so special, Becky shrugged. Tomorrow. After work.”
Asia flopped back in her seat. “So soon?”
Erica snickered. “I don’t remember you and Cameron waiting. And why should Becky wait anyway? If George is willing, and it looks like he is, why then, I say go for it.”
The coffee machine began spitting and Becky got out three cups. She set them on the table near the matching sugar bowl, then filled the small creamer. “If I wait, I’m liable to chicken out.”
Erica looked at the cloth napkins and silver spoons Becky arranged on the table. “You’re such a Suzy Homemaker. It’s a wonder some guy hasn’t talked you into marrying him yet. Men adore the domestic types. Makes them secure.”
Without meaning to, Becky heard herself say, “George is already secure.”
“Oh Lord.” Erica tangled her hands in her blueblack hair and groaned. “She’s singing his praises and the man hasn’t even made it to her mattress yet.”
Becky frowned. “Well he is.”
“And she’s defensive of him too!”
Asia shook her head. “Erica, not all men are weak asses.”
“No, only most of them.”
Asia threw her spoon at her. “You, lady, are a sad cynic.”
Erica merely laughed. Trying to ignore them both, Becky got up to pour the coffee. She’d just finished filling all three cups when her doorbell rang.
She froze. Somehow, with absolute conviction, she knew who was at her door.
Asia and Erica stared at her, then Asia took the coffeepot from her and set it on the hot pad. “Expecting company?”
“No.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “Well, do you suppose you ought to see who it is?”
“Uh …” Becky wrung her hands together. She knew who it was, she just didn’t know what he wanted.
Asia pushed back from the table. “I’ll get it.”
“Wait.” Becky hustled after Asia, and Erica fell into a hurried trot behind her. En masse, in parade fashion, they quick-stepped it to the door. Asia turned the doorknob just as Becky reached her.
Provocative as the original sin, George lounged in the door frame with a devil’s smile. His longlashed, black eyes were glittering with intent.
At the sight of him, Becky drew up short. Erica plowed into her. They both knocked into Asia.
“Hey, easy now.” George, somewhat startled by the unexpected greeting, reached out and kept them all three from toppling. He ended up with his arms full of females—and to Becky’s eye, he didn’t seem to mind in the least.
Chapter Three
George chuckled as the women began righting themselves. He didn’t exactly hurry to get them out of his arms, but then, hey, he liked holding women. “Helluva greeting, ladies. Thanks.”
Erica, the black-haired witch, managed to send her elbow into his middle before pulling away. George grunted, but refused to give her the satisfaction of rubbing at it.
Asia gave him a chiding look and muttered in all seriousness, “Behave.”
Becky just stared up at him with that adorable look of innocent shock that seemed to melt his heart, his common sense, and h
is touted self-control. She didn’t move away, and he damn sure wasn’t going to insist. They stared at each other, and finally she blinked her way into speech. “George. What are you doing here?”
Her blond curls were mussed—a typical state for Becky, he was beginning to realize—and he went about smoothing them back into place. As badly as he wanted her naked and under him, he enjoyed simply touching her, too.
He ignored Erica, and only winked at Asia to reassure her, then said to Becky, “You forgot your change.”
“My change?”
“From your… purchases?” George wasn’t sure if she’d told her two coconspirators about the bondage stuff yet, so he didn’t want to let the cat out of the bag. All in all, it was a weak-ass excuse to be calling on her now, but it was all he could come up with.
Erica rolled her green eyes and drawled, “He means the cuffs and the blindfold, Becky.”
Predictably enough, Becky gasped, embarrassed by the mere mention of the items.
George wanted to smack Erica, but Asia saved him the trouble. She shouldered the other woman and frowned fiercely. Erica gave her a “what?” look that wasn’t the least convincing.
George decided to continue ignoring that one. “Remember, I paid with your money. You had change coming.” He pulled out the bills and coins and put them into Becky’s hand.
She stared at the money. “Thanks.”
Asia shoved her way between them. She caught George’s arm and pulled him through the doorway, then pushed the door shut. “We were just having coffee, George. Why don’t you join us?”
“Yeah.” Erica grinned. “Join us. Becky even made cookies.”
George eyed Becky in the frilly little apron, and all sorts of fetish images flooded through his already taxed brain. Hell, it was only an apron, and if he remembered right, his grandmother used to wear one.
But damn, it sure looked different on Becky than it had on Gram.
Sandwiched between Asia and Erica, he allowed them to drag him to the kitchen. They seemed awfully eager to keep him around, but then, it had been Asia’s idea, according to Cameron, that he should be the man to hook up with Becky.
He owed her big-time, he decided, then he noticed how the apron tied snug at Becky’s waist emphasized the flare of her hips. Usually her clothes were concealing. He cleared his throat and sought casual conversation.
“You bake, Becky?” Somehow, that fit. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out she knit and canned, too.
“They’re just chocolate chip cookies,” she mumbled. “No big deal.”
“My favorite.” Along the way to the kitchen, George took in the sight of her apartment It was small, a little crowded with knickknacks and photos. Her sofa was floral, her curtains frilly, everything spotlessly clean. It was so like Becky that he liked it instantly. Her home felt warm and cozy and comfortable.
It felt like a … home.
They stepped into the small kitchen and George held out a chair for Asia, who was charmed, then Erica, who was sardonic.
Becky bustled about looking like a very sexy Martha Stewart clone, getting out another cup and saucer, arranging the cookies on an ornate plate—studiously avoiding eye contact with him. George decided to let her get away with that for now. Once he had her alone, he’d show her there was no reason to be shy with him.
“Asia,” he asked, again seeking mundane conversation to ease the tension, “how’s Cameron doing?”
“He’s great.”
“He’s exhausted,” Erica corrected. “Wedding plans and all that, you know.”
George set his teeth and smiled at Asia. “Things moving right along?”
“A few glitches. Nothing major.” She snatched up a cookie as soon as Becky put the plate on the table. “That’s typical of every wedding, I suppose.”
Erica snorted. “Every marriage, too.”
“Someday,” Asia told her, “some guy is going to make you eat those words.”
“Right Don’t hold your breath.”
George picked up a cookie, handed it to Erica, and said, “Here. Something useful for your mouth.”
She grinned shamelessly. “Honey, my mouth can be used for a lot of things more interesting than eating … cookies.”
She’d used just the right amount of hesitation so George couldn’t miss her meaning. He raised a brow. “At the kitchen table?”
“Why not?” She popped the cookie in her mouth and eyed him up and down. “You a prude?”
Despite himself, George laughed. “Okay, let me rephrase that—at the kitchen table with two women present?”
Erica held up her hands. “I concede. A woman has to draw the line somewhere.”
“Indeed.” George glanced up and saw that Becky was disgruntled by the sexual banter. Damn, he hoped she didn’t think he was flirting with Erica.
He had been, he supposed, but not out of interest. He’d merely felt compelled to hold his own against her, sort of a male against female thing. Dumb.
He wondered how Becky could stay such closefriends with Erica. Their personalities were so different. He took a bite of cookie, and groaned in appreciation. “Damn, Becky, that’s good. You even put walnuts in them.”
Becky stopped dumping sugar in her coffee and gave him a stony stare. “Thank you. I’m so glad you like them.”
Her words sounded anything but pleased. Was she jealous? Normally that would annoy the hell out of him, because grasping women drove him nuts. But this time George found himself fighting a grin. He kind of liked the idea of Becky being jealous. After putting him off for two years, she deserved it.
Becky sat opposite him at the small table, with Asia and Erica at his sides. He wanted to touch her, to reassure her, but the other women were watching him like they expected him to sprout horns at any moment.
Moving slowly so they wouldn’t notice, George stretched out his legs. His feet bumped Becky’s. Before she could withdraw, he caged her legs with his own. Beneath the table their knees touched, his outside hers. He watched her over his coffee cup and saw her go still, then draw in a deep breath. Her gaze lifted and locked with his.
For long moments, they stared at each other.
Erica chuckled. “You two are embarrassing me. I think it’s time Asia and I hit the road.”
Asia agreed, but Becky jumped to her feet. “No. I mean, you haven’t finished your coffee.”
“Caffeine keeps me awake.” Erica drew her close and hugged her, then said in a stage whisper that the birds in the trees outside could hear, “If we don’t go now, George is liable to self-combust.
The man is all but salivating and it isn’t over the cookies, no matter what he tells you.”
George continued to watch Becky when he replied to Erica. “How astute of you.”
Erica flapped her hand at him in dismissal. “Nah. Men are just so easy to read.”
“More infamous words,” Asia complained. She grabbed Erica and towed her away. “Bye, Becky. Behave. And call me later.”
“Call us both! But do not behave.”
Seconds later, George heard the front door close with a quiet click. He set his coffee aside and came to his feet. Becky backed up.
He rounded the table.
She bumped into the counter.
“Are you afraid of me?” He wasn’t worried about it, because he’d come to the conclusion that Becky’s decision to incorporate a little bondage into her lovemaking was based on sheer curiosity and daring. No way did she have enough sexual experience to be bored and looking for a new kick. Under the circumstances, he expected her to be a bit nervous. Beyond being a real turn-on, it was sort of endearing.
She flattened her hands on the counter at either side of her hips, bracing herself. Standing there in the frilly apron, eyes wide, lips parted, she made a very tempting picture. “No, I’m not afraid of you.”
“Good.” George advanced on her until his legs were on either side of hers, his cock pushed up snug against her soft belly, and his hands over
her hands on the counter, effectively holding her captive.
Damn, he liked this game. He liked it a lot.
He stared at Becky’s mouth. “No matter what we do,” he told her, thinking of how she might feel when he had her tightly bound on the bed, legs open, unable to move, “no matter what I say, you don’t ever have to fear me. All right?”
Becky frowned.
“Believe me, Becky.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, all right.”
He let out his breath in relief. “I need another kiss.”
“All right.” She closed her eyes, turned her face up, and pursed her lips.
Grinning, George smoothed a finger over that delectable mouth. Patience, he told himself. She might be ready to try new things, kinky things, but she lacked any real experience. It was up to him, regardless of his urgency, to guide her gently.
The idea of tutoring her gave him another rush. “I want to taste you, babe. I want you to suck on my tongue again.”
Her eyes popped open and she blinked. “You do?”
“Mmmm. Becky, open your mouth for me.”
Her lips parted the tiniest bit, more out of surprise than because of his instruction, but it was enough. George groaned and took her mouth.
The second he tasted her, his intentions regarding gentle guidance went straight out the window. He licked his way inside, tasting her deeply, eating at her mouth, pushing her lips farther apart with a hunger that quickly shot out of control.
After a small, shocked sound, Becky struggled to free her hands. Frustrated, George released her and lifted his head, ready to apologize.
She launched herself at him.
Her hands were frantic on his chest and shoulders, his neck, his face. She seemed to enjoy touching him, and she definitely enjoyed kissing him. Her mouth landed on his with inept exuberance until George helped by turning his head and adjusting the fit. Becky made a hungry sound and gave him her tongue.
Now, without their coats between them, he could feel her nipples stiffened against his chest. He wedged a hand between their bodies and cuddled her lush breast in his palm.
They both groaned in raw appreciation. Becky was full and firm and so soft, her heartbeat galloping madly. He was pretty much in the zone of no return when he stroked his other hand down her narrow back and gripped her rounded behind. He lifted her into his groin and pressed against her in a tantalizing rhythm that mimicked sex but wasn’t nearly as satisfying. She felt good, smelled good, tasted good.