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Knotty Girl

“I think I’d better stick with rope.”

Craig Jensen wanted to shake some sense into the petite naked blonde who lay shivering at his feet. Even clouded with confusion after her dead faint, her eyes were the greenest he’d ever seen. And her curves may very well be wearing curves all their own but neither attribute changed the fact that she was reckless on top of being trouble with a capital T.

“I mean, geez, whoda thought plastic wrap could be so dangerous,” she continued as if the scowl plastered across his face made no difference in the world. That was amazing all on its own considering his scowl had the ability to scare grown men.

“Nope, I’ll stick with rope. After all, it doesn’t make me sweat and feels so damn good against my skin that just the thought of it makes me…”

She stopped mid-sentence as if she’d just realized what she was saying. Color returned to her cheeks as her gaze settled on his.

“You little fool.” His words were low and heated as he draped a robe over her prone body.

The rest of the crowd had dispersed, leaving only himself, the blonde and the idiot young dominant she’d been playing with. Grabbing the rather large ball of plastic wrap that had been used to bind her, in effect mummifying her from shoulder to ankle, he stood to his full height of six feet, two inches.

Without taking his gaze from his patient, Craig handed the ball of plastic wrap to the deathly pale man standing beside him. “She’s going to be fine.”

The skinny punk sighed in relief. Feeling a bit of compassion for the young man, Craig said, “Accidents are bound to happen in this lifestyle, especially for a new dom. Take this as a lesson and learn from it, but don’t let anything like it happen here again. Ever.”

His words were clipped and deadly serious. The young man listening intently evidently knew Craig meant business because his demeanor changed from that of rebellion to keen interest. It wouldn’t be long before the new dom was all but begging for lessons.

Craig had already been there, done that as a Pro Top. For years he’d received payment for services rendered. At one time he’d had several dominant-submissive couples who he tutored and many singles who either wanted to learn a particular aspect such as wielding a flogger or experience the receiving end. He had no intention of doing it again.

Other than overseeing Club Jerico, the BDSM club he’d built from the ground up then sold, lock, stock and barrel to his best friend, Craig now had the time he needed to look for his one, the one submissive in a long line of women who would truly be his. Wasn’t it ironic that out of all the experienced women he’d played with over the years, the obviously inexperienced blonde still at his feet was the one? Hell, he didn’t even know her name.

It was crazy. Craig couldn’t explain how he knew she was the one. It was just something he was certain of. Something he felt bone deep. He’d seen and played with hundreds of women over the years but something about the one at his feet was different.

She was everything he normally stayed away from in a play partner. So why in the hell did he feel as though life as he knew it would never be the same if he didn’t own her, heart, body and soul?

“Oh, and she’s off limits. Make it known.”

Ladies! Meet Red Hot Alaskan Men

Dave shrugged. Normal conversation with this woman was a lost cause. It was a shame they hadn’t met another way, in any other circumstance.

“I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“I didn’t. I told you that I would stop you, and I meant it.”

She faced him now. Even in the half light of the streetlights he could see her confusion. Her mouth formed the shape of an O, and she sucked in a breath. “Of all the…” Her small hands balled into fists. “Look, you’re the mayor, not the owner of the town. Those men want us there and my ladies paid good money to visit—”

He didn’t know why he did it. Didn’t even think about it, not really, just went on instinct. Dave leaned forward and kissed her.

She pulled away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He ran a hand though his hair. “I don’t know. It seems to shut you up.”

“Of all the arrogant, irritating—”

Fingers traced the skin of her cheek. Soft, so incredibly soft. How could someone so beautiful be such a damn pain in the ass?

His hand slipped around to the nape of her neck and pulled her close. For a moment her eyes went wide, but she didn’t speak. Trembling, she leaned in, their mouths meeting.

Gently, he sucked her lower lip and nibbled on the delicate skin. She smelled like flowers, light, spring-like. Her body, all curves and softness, fit against his like it was meant to be there.

He should end this. She represented everything he hated about women, but she deepened the contact, turning his will to mush. She tangled her tongue with his in an erotic dance that drained the blood from every place in his body. Every place but his cock. Turgid and ready, it strained between them. She shivered in his arms and he drew her sexy little body onto his lap.

The cab came to a wobbly stop. Their mouths parted and she looked up at him with a gasp. He too felt like the breath had been sucked from his body. The red stoplight above them was blurred by the ice on the windows. It turned from red to green. Beneath them, the cab’s tires spun uselessly on the pavement as the ice made it almost impossible to accelerate.

The cabdriver swore as the engine revved and the tires fought for purchase on the slick street beneath them. Inching along, they finally came to a stop in front of his hotel. Chastity slid off his lap.

Dave looked at the woman next to him. He shouldn’t want her, shouldn’t be drawn to her. The V of her shirt showed a hint of breast and he swallowed, hard. “Come with me.”

Where the hell had that come from? He opened his mouth to take it back, when she turned to face him and licked a pink tongue over her lips. Dave’s heart skipped a beat.

“Sorry, folks. This is the end of the line. I’m not risking it out there till they salt the roads.”

She glanced up at the cabbie, and back at Dave, confusion clear on her face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can walk from here. Thank you very much.”

Dave looked around. Iced over, the sidewalks appeared more than treacherous. “You’re not going to walk in this.”

Her head came up, the fight back in her eyes. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time and—”

Dave placed a hand over her mouth. Her eyes narrowed, but she went silent. “I don’t know why I’m so attracted to you. I should spank you. I think the attraction’s mutual. I don’t want to fight right now. I want to take you to my room and make love to you. What do you want?”

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away and waited for an answer.

Lip between her teeth, she turned her head to him, then up the street. “Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.”

Skin to Skin

There was the sound of a door opening and banging closed. Ollie raised his head in time to see Leilani walking out to her patio. He ducked behind a post and watched her stretch her slender arms over her head, thrusting her pert breasts forward. The movement caused her spaghetti-strapped tank top to pull up revealing a tanned, slightly rounded belly. For some reason, it turned Oliver on even more. He always liked a woman who wasn’t afraid of food. The boxer shorts she was wearing were white sprinkled with red hearts and showed off her long, golden legs and plump ass. In the moonlight, with her wild black hair flowing freely around her shoulders, the woman resembled an Aztec goddess. Ollie’s hand tightened around his beer can.

As though she sensed him looking at her, she turned towards his patio and squinted her eyes, her hands propped on her waist. Ollie pushed off from the post and braced his arms on the railing so she could see him better. Across the yard, she finally spotted him and waved hello. Against his better judgment, he waved back. She must have taken his greeting as an invitation because before he knew what was going on, she was crossing the yard in her bare feet and walking towards his house.

Damn the woman. She was going to be the death of him.

“Hello, Oliver,” she said in that husky voice of hers, stepping up onto his porch. She nodded at the beer in his hand. “Got any more of those?”

Her neck and shoulders were glowing with sweat and gave her an otherworldly sheen. Oliver raked his gaze from the top of her hair down to her bare feet, then back up to the nipples poking through the thin material of her tank top. He could almost taste them in his mouth. He took a healthy gulp of his beer and swallowed hard. “Nope. Last one.” He had a twelve-pack in the fridge, but that would mean limping into the kitchen and frankly, it was too far to limp and he was too goddamn tired.

She raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow at him and smiled. “Do you mind if I have a sip?”

There was three feet of space between them. Ollie extended his arm, but didn’t take a step towards her. If he got any closer, he was liable to grab her and pin her against the wall. “Here you go.”

She sashayed towards him. He was entranced by the sight of her bellybutton. She was an innie. He felt like dropping on his knees in front of her and swirling his tongue into the tiny oval hole.

“Thank you.” She accepted the can from him, licked the spot his lips had touched and tipped the can towards her open mouth. “Ahh, that’s good.”

She rolled the can over her chest and the condensation, along with the cool night air, made her nipples more visible through her shirt.

Sealed with a Kiss

“What are you doing?”

“Warming you up.” His hands switched to her left calf, kneading and softening the muscle, before coming back to her right leg and thigh. One hand on the front, one hand on the back, he squeezed her flesh, manipulating the stiff muscles. “Feel any better?”

Helena, heart in her throat, staring dumbly at the top of his head, nodded. It took a moment for Ocean to look up, but when he did, he answered her dumbfounded expression with a quizzical one.

“Helena, if this makes you uncomfortable, please let me know.”

“Uncomfortable? No, not that…”

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Who says anything is wrong?”

“You’re looking at me like I’m an ax murderer.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, it’s not that at all.” Helena could have smacked herself. Why couldn’t she say something intelligent instead of answering questions with questions or stuttering useless platitudes?

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m just nervous.”

“I’m making you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Like, you’re nervous I’m going feed you to the sharks when we go out tomorrow morning, or you have a boyfriend named Bruno who would break both my legs if he saw me touching you?”

His head was down, focusing on working the kinks out of her legs, but his probing question made it clear that he wanted to know if she was in a relationship. Helena knotted her fingers together in nervous excitement, flattered and unnerved by his interest. She wasn’t so beautiful that every man she met wanted to sleep with her, and her painful self-doubt insisted that she’d read the signals wrong.

“I don’t have a Bruno, I mean boyfriend.” She wished she were a better flirt, able to whip out witty banter at a moment’s notice.

“Then you’re worried I’ll feed you to the sharks?”

“Well I wasn’t, but now I’m starting to.”

Ocean threw his head back and laughed, a full-bodied sound. He laughed as if he didn’t care who knew he was amused. Helena smiled, his mirth infectious, her chest and cheeks flushing with pleasure at having made him laugh.

“If I promise not to feed you to the sharks”—his eyes sparkled with amusement as he said it—“will you stop looking so worried?”

“I’ll try, I just get nervous talking to pretty guys.”

“Pretty?” He seemed disgusted with what she’d said, though she meant it as a compliment.

“I, um, meant handsome, not pretty.”

He gifted her with a tender smile, and Helena worried that she’d just changed attraction to fraternal caring with one careless comment. It wouldn’t be the first time, but she felt a deep pang of sadness at having lost his interest.

“I’m glad you think I’m handsome.”

“I bet girls tell you that all the time.”

“Maybe.” At least he had the grace to acknowledge it. “But it’s not other girl’s opinions that matter right now, just yours.”

There was a silky quality to his voice, a bedroom smooth that overrode her earlier conclusion that he’d lost interest in her. Ocean’s manipulation of her muscles changed along with his voice, from physical-therapist massage to lover’s caress. He pushed to his feet, hands circling her hips and thighs in a slow, deliberate touch.

“You smell like the sea, and all I can think about is making love to you. I want to lick the smell of salt off every”—Ocean pressed his lips to her right ear—“inch”—he moved his mouth to her other ear—“of you.”

Between the midday sun and him, she was more than warmed up. Protected from the wind by the raised pier, there was nothing to cool her. From above, the sun baked her inside the black wetsuit jacket and shorts she wore. Ocean’s hands on her thighs pressed her against his wetsuit-clad body.

She was on vacation, her first one in a long time. A man she found attractive, if intimidating, had just made it clear he was interested in having sex with her.

Helena had two options. She could push away from him, make it clear she didn’t find this behavior appropriate and continue her vacation. Or she could pretend to be someone else, a woman so confident that she had sexuality to burn and ate gorgeous men for breakfast. The second option terrified her, but the sun’s heat combined with his presence and his touch burned away her reservations, questions, worries and doubts.

Helena shook her hair back, imagining it was a rich, flowing mane of blonde locks rather than a bedraggled brown braid.

“I want to feel you. I want you to touch me, taste me. I want to feel your body above mine, in mine.” If her words were awkward and forced, her voice shaking in nerves, he had the grace to ignore it.

He pressed his lips against her cheek and smiled, letting her feel his pleasure. Those lips then traveled across her cheek. Helena started to turn her head into the kiss, but Ocean pulled away.

“No. I want to save that, save this kiss, until the perfect moment.” His voice promised things she couldn’t imagine, promised kisses that changed lives.