Bad Boy Done Wrong Page 6

  He peeled her arms off him, slid her to the center of the mattress, and then grabbed two blue velvet ropes from the nightstand. She swallowed hard, her stomach fluttering, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. He didn’t give her a chance to get too worked up, though, instead leaning down and kissing her, gentle and coaxing, showing her he could be gentle. And then just brushing his lips against hers, making her sigh.

  “I’m gonna tie you up now.” His gravelly voice made her toes curl. “You’ll like it.”

  He lifted her right wrist above her head, wrapping the velvet rope around it and tying it to the wooden headboard with lots of convenient wooden slats to tie things around. “Give a tug.”

  She did. It was loose. She could probably slip out of it easily. Well, was she going to do this or not? Yes, she decided. All or nothing.

  “You’re going easy on me,” she said. “Don’t.”

  He grunted a masculine sound of satisfaction and tied it tighter. Then he grabbed her other wrist and tied that one. She tugged, truly at his mercy now. A hot shiver ran down her spine as his eyes met hers, gleaming with stark hunger. Fierce. Raw. Animal.

  He snapped his teeth at her. She squeaked.

  He bit her lower lip gently and then sucked. “Your safe word is good girl.”

  She clamped her mouth shut. She would not be admitting to that.

  A slow sexy smile crossed his features before he leaned in, tracing her lips with his tongue and then delving deep. The kiss turned ravenous. Yes, this was what she wanted. Mindless passion. He shifted, kissing down her throat and then cupping her breast before his mouth closed around it, sucking hard. This was not gentle and she didn’t care. She was throbbing, hot and wet and aching for his touch. His teeth closed over her nipple and she cried out.

  He lifted his head. “Did you say something?”

  She shook her head.

  “Sure?”

  “I’m sure.” She tugged at her ties, wanting to grab his head and make him get back to her breasts or lower. Please God, lower.

  He leaned up to inspect her ties, running his fingers under the ropes. “How’re your wrists? Not too tight?”

  “Argh!”

  He met her eyes and lifted a brow. “Argh?”

  She tried to flail one arm and merely wiggled it. “Get back to business.”

  He rolled her nipples and tugged on them. “You’re not in a position for that kind of order, naughty girl.”

  She let out a sigh of relief as his mouth closed over her other breast, sucking hard, that tugging achy feeling returning, a direct line to her sex.

  He released the suction with a pop and looked up at her. “Don’t pull too hard on the ties, no matter what I do. Got it?”

  A full-body shiver ran through her. “Yes.” She opened her legs in invitation.

  He shifted much lower, settling between her legs, staring at her exposed sex. “Beautiful.” He slid one long finger inside her and met her eyes. “I’m gonna push you, but you’ll like it.”

  She let out something between a gurgle and a moan.

  He dropped a kiss on her sex. “Ready?”

  “Yes!” He was being so strangely sweet considering she was tied to his bedposts and he’d just promised to make her so crazy she’d want to pull at her restraints.

  That was the last coherent thing she said. His fingers were magic—stroking, pinching, thrusting inside her, bringing her to the edge of release. She tensed, panting, about to explode when he stopped and kissed her inner thigh. And then kissed his way up her body to whisper in her ear, “Let me do one more thing and I’ll give it to you.”

  “Please,” she moaned.

  He kissed his way back down her body, this time working her with his lips and tongue and teeth, making her body bow up off the mattress, keening with need. The tension coiled within her, higher and higher. Oh, God, yes. Please, please, please.

  He lifted his head, whispering something that sounded soothing.

  She could barely focus. “What?”

  He levered back up her body, thrusting his finger in her mouth, which she sucked, tasting herself, erotic and hot. Her hips lifted in shameless entreaty. He whispered in her ear, “One more thing. Then you can come.”

  She moaned. His wet finger stroked down her throat. His lips followed the trail of his finger down her body between her breasts, down her belly, stopping just short of her throbbing, aching center.

  He blew softly across her sex, stroking her lazily up and down, over and over, murmuring praise as she moved to his rhythm, needing so much more. She yanked at her ties, wanting to smack him or jump on him. Something to ease this never-ending ache.

  “Easy,” he soothed, sliding his fingers inside her.

  She let out a shaky breath. “Please this time. Please.”

  He stroked inside her and then shifted so his thumb was working her at the same time. Her entire body jolted as he found the G spot she’d heard about but never felt. He increased the pressure, his thumb stroking back and forth, faster and faster, his fingers stroking on the inside. She writhed with need, her hips raised off the bed, wild animal sounds escaping from somewhere deep inside.

  The pressure eased as he gentled and slowed. He used his other hand to push her hips back on the mattress. “Easy, relax.”

  She looked to the ceiling and let out a stream of curses.

  He cupped her sex and held it. “Now you’re getting it.”

  She looked at him, ready to scream. “What am I getting?”

  His voice was low and gruff. “You’re mine to do as I please. I say when. I say how much. No choice but to go with it.”

  Her breath hitched, her skin fever-hot, every nerve ending electrified. He stroked her gently, lazily, and she whimpered, her legs quivering.

  “Unless you use your safe word, naughty girl,” he drawled.

  She closed her eyes in refusal and then they flew open as his mouth closed over her throbbing center just as his fingers thrust inside her, stroking slow and easy. She was wild with need, bucking under him, but he stilled her with one large hand on her hip. She keened long and low.

  All of his intense focus on her.

  Everything just for her.

  And she just couldn’t…take…much…more.

  She trembled as he pushed her slow and easy, over and over, and then she broke, shock waves of pleasure radiating from her core, shooting straight down her legs and up her torso. A full-body orgasm like she’d never felt before. She panted, her heart pounding, electrified. She had no idea she could come like that.

  Finally he released her and she relaxed, limp and sated.

  “One more time,” he said, standing next to the bed, quickly stripping off his clothes and rolling a condom on.

  She swallowed, beyond words, sure she didn’t have “one more time” in her. He returned to her, lifted her legs up and over his shoulders, and thrust deep.

  “Yes!” she cried.

  And then he was pounding into her, rocking her, hitting just the right spot, and she was crying out in pure bliss. His hand slipped between them, stroking rapidly, and she lost it, the orgasm slamming through her, stealing her breath. He kept going, thrusting deep, hard and fierce. It was too much. The intensity. Her body clenched around him, her heart pounding as hard as he was pounding, wild, primal, lost in shock waves of sensation all controlled by him.

  “Zach!” she cried out, her head thrashing from side to side, the only movement she could manage.

  He held her by the jaw and cheek, keeping her still and their eyes locked on some deep primitive level that made her tremble. Then he thrust deep and she exploded with a harsh gasp, stunned, light-headed in a haze of pleasure as he pumped for his own release and finally let go.

  A long moment later, he withdrew and lowered her shaky legs to the mattress. She was drenched in sweat, his and hers, in a shocked state of wonder that she could ever experience those kinds of orgasms—a full-body radiating pleasure, a hard slamming explosion and then anot
her. She’d never known. He’d made her come before but not like that.

  His big hands framed her face and he kissed her gently before untying her wrists, kissing the underside of each tenderly, and then pulling her into his arms.

  She felt safe, protected, cherished. She’d never experienced anything like it. Passion and tenderness. Who knew a bad boy could do all that?

  Chapter Seven

  Carrie ended up spending the night. It was an unspoken thing, as in, she dozed off after all the Jane Bond excitement. She’d woken up a couple of hours later and started feeling him up. He must’ve been awake because he’d immediately responded, kissing her breathless and then saying in his gruff and growly voice, “I’m gonna take you sideways. You’ll like it.”

  He was so confident, she totally believed him. She’d faced him on her side, scooting closer. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Roll the other way.”

  Then he took over, taking her sideways like he’d said. And she’d liked it.

  She’d conked out shortly after.

  Now she rolled to her back, all wrapped up in the blanket. Zach wasn’t in bed. The scent of coffee and something cinnamony reached her. She definitely had to stay for breakfast. It would be rude to rush home to dry toast.

  She stretched lazily, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. Zach was kind of like a sex teacher. He told her what he was going to do, told her she’d like it, and then made it happen. And she was the eager student. She liked when he went off list too. After taking the leap of faith to get tied up, she was ready for anything. She trusted him.

  She let out a happy sigh, rolled out of bed, quickly dressed, and went to brush her teeth.

  ~ ~ ~

  Zach held a secret satisfaction that Carrie had texted to come over again the very next night after he tied her up. That meant she’d enjoyed it as much as he had. This sexual compatibility on top of personal compatibility was rare in his experience. She didn’t mind that he wasn’t overly talkative or touchy-feely. Two complaints he’d heard repeatedly from ex-girlfriends. She hadn’t seemed to mind that he always slept on the couch, needing to sleep solo. Or maybe she didn’t notice. She was usually out cold by the time he was done with her and he did wake up before her. Whatever. It worked.

  He never had to hold back with her in or out of bed. He could be himself. Except for his bad-boy ruse. But that wasn’t so bad, was it? They were both happy with the arrangement. They enjoyed each other’s bodies. They enjoyed eating breakfast together and talking about cooking. Mostly him answering her questions on how he made stuff without a recipe because she didn’t cook much. In any case, their time together felt right. Natural.

  The doorbell rang right on time. He opened it and took in his mate. He gave himself a mental shake for slipping into anthropological mode there. Carrie wasn’t his and definitely not as permanent as a mate. But, damn, she was sexy as all hell in a light blue tank top with matching short shorts and the biggest smile on her beautiful face.

  He couldn’t help but smile back. “Come in.”

  He backed up a few steps to make room for her.

  She dropped her purse, ran, and leaped into his arms. He caught her instinctively. Her arms and legs wrapped around him and she kissed him all over his face. Dangerous warmth spread through his chest, a soft emotion that would bite him in the ass if he let it show too soon. Timing was everything.

  He slid his hand over her pretty ass and between her legs, her heat igniting raw desire in him. Primal instinct triggered, he walked straight to the bedroom, his arms full of sexy woman.

  ~ ~ ~

  Carrie was only on day five of wanton abandon with Zach when she realized they’d nearly completed the list. She was addicted to what he made her feel—a passion and freedom in the bedroom she’d never known existed. She was a little worried, though, because she’d actually considered missing her every other Thursday book club meeting just to be with him. Her friends would be there for her long-term; Zach wouldn’t. But she didn’t want to waste one minute of her time with Zach, so as a compromise, she invited him to meet her at Garner’s for the usual after-book-club drinks. He’d inquired into the male-female ratio, not wanting to be the focus of the women with questions into their arrangement, and when she told him he’d be the only guy, he’d promptly invited Ethan. Zach didn’t hold a grudge over Ethan messing with him on their disastrous “Sunday drive” in the park. No harm done was how he put it. In any case, Hailey was thrilled because it worked perfectly with her plan to flirt with Ethan and clear his name as not-a-sex-addict.

  “So, ladies, what did we think about Rescuing Hannah?” Hailey asked the group. The women, nine in all, sat in a circle of chairs in Something’s Brewing Café. It was a cozy meeting place with deep red walls, hanging light fixtures with golden sconces, dark wood tables with matching chairs, and dark wood laminate flooring. The coffee and pastries were to die for. Usually they arrived just before closing to get their drinks and snacks before their reserved private meeting time. It was a win-win for the local owners of the shop because they also owned Book It, connected to the café, where the women spent most of their book dollars.

  Rescuing Hannah was their first romantic suspense, a darker story than they normally read and had scared the daylights out of Carrie.

  “It was good,” Mad said, tossing her dyed fire-engine red hair out of her eyes. “Lotta good action.” Mad was a black belt, a tough woman, the youngest and only girl from the testosterone-filled Campbell family.

  “It scared the crap out of me!” Lauren, a sweet second-grade teacher, exclaimed. She was a good friend of Carrie’s. “Every time I heard a scratching noise I thought it was the serial killer at my window. And I have cats! There’s always some scratching noise somewhere.”

  “It scared me too!” Carrie said at the same time as Sabrina.

  “Jinx!” Sabrina said, socking Carrie in the arm.

  “Ow.” She rubbed her arm.

  The women were divided on whether or not it was truly scary or just suspenseful.

  Hailey interrupted the debate. “I liked that Hannah played a big part in her own rescue after she was captured.”

  The women murmured agreement. That had been pretty awesome.

  Hailey went on. “And then when she and Colt were on the run and hiding out in the cabin, it was so steamy…” She trailed off because the women promptly launched into a discussion of Colt as a book boyfriend and what he had that other book boyfriends didn’t have. Not all of them made the cut for book boyfriend.

  Carrie found her mind wandering back to Zach, who was right this minute across the street at Garner’s with Ethan. Ally had driven her to book club so she could ride home with him and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she and Zach would bail. The chemistry between them only intensified the more they did together. She’d expected it to ease up, at least a little. There was no book boyfriend who could compare to what Zach did for her. In just five short days he’d made up for so much of what she’d missed out on with her ex. Hard to believe she’d only known Zach for less than a week when she felt so comfortable with him. She’d fought back the urge to ask him questions about himself, knowing it would make her get too attached. It was the only way to protect her tender heart. She didn’t talk about him with her friends either. Not that anyone knew much about him, they’d all just met him for the first time at his welcome-home party, except Mad, who’d grown up with him. His sweet smile came to mind, bringing a rush of warmth. He showed it rarely, but when it came out, it just bowled her over. She let out a swoony sigh, remembering the last time he smiled like that, this morning when she—

  “Carrie?”

  She straightened. “Huh? What?”

  Hailey exchanged a look with the other women. “I said are you still with us?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because Mad asked you how realistic the medical scene was after Colt was shot and you just let out a happy sigh.”

  Carrie flushed. “Sorry. Yes,
it was realistic. The author definitely did her research.”

  “How’s Zach?” Hailey asked.

  “You’re with Zach now?” Mad asked. She’d missed their beach day when they’d discussed him, and Carrie had been on a nonstop work-fuck-sleep schedule ever since.

  She considered how to answer. She knew, above all, Mad would take her honorary brother’s side over anyone else, even a friend. If she told her it was just a fling, she’d hassle her on why. In a way, it was true that she was with Zach now, even if there was a time limit on it.

  “Yes,” Carrie said.

  “For her sex list,” Ally put in.

  Carrie whipped her head toward Ally. “Would you stop calling it a sex list? It’s a wish list.”

  “A wish list of sex,” Ally returned with a grin.

  “Don’t tell me any more,” Mad said with a grimace. “I don’t want the squicky details.”

  “Good.” Carrie fought the blush creeping up her neck. “Because I don’t want to share anyway.”

  “That was fast, though,” Mad said. “He’s only been home for a week.”

  “Carrie threw herself at him,” Lauren said. She’d had a front-row view of the event since Carrie had been with her right before she claimed her womanly mojo at Zach’s welcome-home party.

  Carrie glared at all of them, daring them to judge her, but the other women just looked fascinated. Probably because they knew she was usually more reserved around men. She’d been picky, not wanting to settle for more ho-hum. She’d wanted a fling with the alpha bad boy of her fantasies as a way to push the envelope, to find the passion she’d craved. And she was proud that she’d had the courage to go after him.

  “He’s whip smart,” Mad said. “Worked so damn hard—”

  Carrie interrupted. “Did you and Park set a date yet?” Blatant topic change but she wanted to keep Zach a mystery.