Up In Knots

by Gillian Archer

  She rolled her eyes at his obvious reply, even as her nipples tightened at the reminder of tonight. Soon she would be bound in his ropes with him tickling her sensitive places until she begged to have him. She shivered. Suddenly she was ravenous. The jitters were gone and she knew if what she wanted to happen was going to happen, she’d need some fuel.

  “So what do you do for a living?”

  He sat back into the booth and looked at her with a smirk. “Are you going to pretend you don’t know?”

  “I, uh, um...” It was horrifyingly embarrassing to admit she knew everything about him. Who walked up to their stalking victim like they weren’t really strangers? Not that she stalked him like a crazy person—she just followed him on Twitter. And watched him at a public exhibition. And listened to his podcasts. And read his website a thousand times. And contemplated hiring him for his dom services. God, she was a stalker!

  Suddenly she wanted to be somewhere, anywhere but here.

  “Relax. I know you’re not a nut job. I know that I have a few followers. I just... I don’t do games, okay? None of that tell him what he wants to hear bullshit. We’ve got to be one hundred percent honest with each other. You can’t trust me without honesty between us. And with our kind of kink, trust is super important.”

  Abashed at getting caught in a half truth, she bit her lip. “Well, in the spirit of honesty, I should probably tell you I haven’t done this before.”

  Sawyer smiled. “What? Had lunch in an Irish pub?”

  “No. Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant.” She paused when the waitress returned with their order. Apparently the special today was a pork roast with mashed potatoes and cabbage. It smelled heavenly. Her mouth watered and she picked up her knife and fork to dig in with abandon. A beat later she looked up to find Sawyer staring at her.

  “Oh.” She put down her utensils and clasped her hands in her lap. “Sorry. Do you pray before eating? I didn’t mean to offend.”

  Sawyer snorted. “Hardly. I’ve never had a date so eager to eat before.”

  “Well, you said you didn’t want to play games. And honestly, I’m starving.”

  “Great. Eat up. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can play.”

  Kyla’s heart raced. The wicked promise in his eyes had the most amazing effect on her body. With one look, she was once again a puddle in front of this man. She couldn’t imagine what he would do when he unleashed the power of that look combined with his oh-so talented hands. But she couldn’t wait to find out.

  * * *

  “So...” Sawyer paused as the waitress swept away their plates. He ignored her blatant come-hither look and asked for the check. Rolling his eyes when the bill came complete with her phone number at the bottom, he threw down some cash and turned to Kyla. Judging from her pursed lips, she saw the exchange too.

  He left the bill and phone number on the table, then stood and put out a hand for Kyla. Drawing her to his side, he swept them out of the pub and to his car. With a smile, he held open the passenger door for her and couldn’t help but notice her miniskirt slid up her thigh to a decidedly unladylike level. His dick hardened at the sight. She was firm and tight in all the right places, making him firm as a result. In a few hours’ time he’d be feeling those amazing legs wrapped around his hips. Holy fuck, he could not wait.

  But first things first.

  He shut the door, then jogged around the front of his convertible to climb behind the wheel. An intense wave of heat hit him that had nothing to do with the beauty in the passenger seat. After starting the ignition, he pressed a few buttons to turn the radio off and the air conditioning on full blast. But he didn’t put the car in gear. Instead he turned to his passenger. “What made you decide to come to my Bondage for Couples class alone?”

  She gave a husky laugh as she turned to face him. “I didn’t know it was a couples class. I’d heard a good place to meet a rope top is at a bondage class. I guess I must’ve misread the schedule of events. I thought it was the Fundamentals of Rope Bondage class.”

  “Ah, yeah, that was yesterday.” He laughed with her. “Tell me a little about your kink background. What kind of stuff are you interested in? What have you tried? What are your hard limits?”

  Her cheeks flushed, and he had a feeling the Vegas heat had nothing to do with it.

  “I uh, started online about seven years ago. Eventually I went to a few local munches and met and eventually played with a few doms. My last dom, we, uh, we dated for about a year but it ended badly.” She bit her lip and looked away for a moment. “I tried to go straight. Date some guys who aren’t into the lifestyle, but it wasn’t... Something was missing.”

  “Yeah. Once you give yourself to the dark side, it’s hard to go back.”

  Kyla tilted her head. “Did you quote Vader to me?”

  A girl who could recognize Star Wars lines and was into kink? If it were possible, she just got even sexier. “Paraphrased. Huge difference.”

  Her lips curved as she shook her head. “Well, you’re right. It was impossible to go back. So I thought a class would be a good way to get back into the swing of things. I was looking for something low-key. I’m not ready for commitment after—now.”

  He cocked his head and surveyed her. “And rope?”

  “I was more into sensation and impact play...before...with my last top.”

  “We might not have spent much time together in class, but I know you wanted to be tied. I could see it on your face. Smell it on your body. You want the rope. Need the rope.”

  A shuddering sigh racked her chest and her eyes dilated. He leaned in until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. “Are you denying it?”

  She shook her head slightly.

  “Good.” Unable to hold back one more second, he leaned forward the extra distance and took her lips with his. He buried his hands in her thick blonde hair and captured her mouth. His lips moved harshly over hers, learning the feel and shape of them. She whimpered softly, and he took advantage and slipped his tongue into her mouth. His heart raced as she met his kiss stroke for stroke. Only once he was short of breath did he finally pull back.

  Panting now, he surveyed Kyla. Swollen lips, glazed eyes and disheveled hair meant he was getting ahead of himself. First negotiate, then have the fun, naughty sex. Despite his mental reminder, his body swayed toward Kyla. Like a magnet, he couldn’t resist the pull. If he wasn’t careful, they’d get a public lewdness ticket. The parking lot of The Bolt Hole definitely wasn’t the place to get down and dirty with Kyla—at least not in the late afternoon sun with the top down on his convertible. Even he wasn’t that blatant.

  Kyla took a shuddering breath, flicked her hair off her shoulder and turned to him with a smoldering look.

  His dick flexed in response.

  She arched an eyebrow. “I’m ready if you are.”

  “Not even close.” He flicked the switch that brought the top of his convertible up, then rolled the windows up. “We need to finish our little negotiation first.”

  Kyla groaned. “Fine. Go.”

  “Okay then. What’s on your hard list?” He reached over and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. He couldn’t keep his hands off her.

  “No canes, no bodily fluids, no permanent marks. No breath play. I’ll only go bareback for oral provided you’re clean.”

  “I was tested last weekend. I’m clean. I can show you the paperwork back at my house.” He sucked in a breath when she turned her head and caught his finger with her lips. His eyes closed and he had to fight the urge to moan. The nerve endings tingled on his fingertip and echoed the dull, throbbing pulse from below his belt. If this woman could affect such an overwhelming response with just one fingertip, he couldn’t wait to see what she could do elsewhere. “And you? Have you been tested recently?”

  She ran he
r tongue over his fingertip before pulling back to answer. “Yes. Two weeks ago. I’m good. But, um, I don’t have my paperwork on me. We have to go back to my house to get it.”

  “Nah, that’s okay. We can work around it. And I always use condoms. Got any questions for me?”

  Her lips curled. “Normally I’d ask for references, but in this case I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  He laughed. “Good. You ready?”

  “Y—no. Wait a minute.” She turned away from him to paw through her purse. After a moment, she held up her phone triumphantly. “Got it. Give me a sec.” Her fingers flew over the screen of her smartphone. A moment later, she shoved it back inside her purse, then turned to him with a gorgeous smile. “All right. Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute now. What was that about?”

  She cocked her head. “I sent my friend a text. I had to let her know who I was with. You know, in case you decide to lock me up in your basement and never let me go.”

  “Nah, you don’t have to worry about that. My basement’s full up on sex slaves.”

  She gave a weak laugh as her eyes flicked to the passenger door.

  “Sorry. Joke. And apparently a bad one,” he muttered under his breath before continuing. “I get it. You’re being responsible. I have no girls chained up in the basement. You can leave at any time. All you gotta do is safe word out. And if you don’t believe I’m the kinda guy to respect safe words, you shouldn’t come home with me.”

  Kyla took a deep breath and shook her head. “Sorry. I do—I mean, it’s just nerves.”

  “Good. You ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s roll.”

  Chapter Four

  It felt like an army of tiny, squirrelly creatures had decided to nest in her stomach. She was sitting next to Mr. Bad Boy, Sawyer. In a few minutes’ time he would have his hands all over her naked body with rope not too far behind.

  She couldn’t wait.

  A long silence stretched out between them. She knew she should probably come up with something to say, but she couldn’t think past her dirty thoughts. Back when she’d first gotten into the scene, she’d heard stories about Sawyer, the kinds of things he liked to do. Some of those things she’d never even considered trying. What would he want to do to her tonight? Should she have added more things to her hard list? He probably—no, certainly—knew more, had done more kinky things than her. Could she hold her own? Would she safe word out in the first few minutes?

  Dang it, she really needed to pee.

  Between the dancing creatures inside her, her full bladder and her underactive imagination, the next ten minutes were tortuous. And Sawyer didn’t do one thing to help calm her down. He didn’t turn on the radio. He didn’t draw her into any conversation. He just drove. His confident hands handled the manual transmission, shifting gears with ease. His gaze hardly left the road. Occasionally he flicked over the mirrors, but he never once looked in her direction. At least not that she could tell. It was frustrating, enraging.

  And so very hot.

  Had the scene already started? The anticipation was killing her. But it was a delicious sexual tension-filled anticipation. Her nipples tingled as she thought about his no-doubt vast array of nipple clamps. Would he use vibrating clamps or maybe the harsh, piercing clasp of alligator clamps? The masochist inside her really hoped for the latter. Nothing turned her on more than the combination of nipple and impact play. Except for maybe the pounding animal-like sex that came afterward.

  And of course there would be rope. So much delicious, body-hugging rope. When she’d thought she was ready to get back into the kinky arena again, she’d researched different BDSM disciplines—something she hadn’t done since she was first on the scene. In just a few clicks she found rope bondage and Sawyer. The pictures of his stern expression while he wrapped a woman’s body in rope and the total ecstasy on his submissive’s face had her reaching for her rabbit vibe in a heartbeat. The more she read about rope and Sawyer, the more she wanted to feel his hands and his rope on her body.

  And from the little taste she got in the class today, she definitely wanted more of both. Only this time with no barriers.

  She fidgeted in her seat. Lord, she was glad she wore panties today. It would have been extremely embarrassing to leave smudges on his lovely leather seats. She could imagine what he’d say.

  She darted another glance at his stony face. She almost wished she had gone without her panties. At least then he’d say something to her. The overwhelming silence gave time for self-doubts to circle. What if she didn’t please him? What if her inexperience with rope turned him off? What if, what if, what if!

  What started out as lovely anticipation had snowballed into frayed nerves. Only her ironclad self-discipline—and her fear of displeasing him—kept her hands off the radio knob. She wouldn’t give in to the temptation.

  Finally, after endless, torturous minutes, the car slowed as he turned into a driveway. And she stared in awe.

  She knew he flipped houses for a living and yet she never had a single thought about what kind of house he would live in. The three-story Georgian-inspired house—make that mansion—wasn’t the norm for the Vegas Valley, where most houses were sandy pink-beige with clay roof tiles. This house stood head and shoulders above the rest. From the white stucco frontage to the gray slate roof tiles to the sweeping circular driveway, his house spelled status symbol in large blinking letters. A man with overalls and hedge clippers waved as they drove by. He had a groundskeeper, for crying out loud. As the car stopped near the front door—complete with lion head door knocker—her gaze came to rest on the huge sign in the front lawn: Another Charming Development For Sale with a phone number at the bottom.

  Her head jerked up as her car door opened. Sawyer stood next to the door with his hand held out. She unbuckled her seatbelt, then placed her hand in his. Instead of taking in their amazing surroundings as he helped her up from her seat, she looked into his bright blue eyes, which twinkled with mischief from behind his wire-framed glasses. It didn’t take much guesswork to assume he had several naughty thoughts whirling around in his devious mind.

  The squiggling butterflies returned in full force for an entirely different reason. The house, the groundskeeper, all the trappings of his wealth fell to the background. There was only the two of them and their crackling sexual tension.

  Her breath stalled in her chest as he leaned down until his lips were a millimeter away from her own. She parted hers, eager to feel his kiss once more.

  But instead of his kiss, she felt his breath puff against her lips as he asked her, “What’s your safe word?”

  Her mind blanked. She had one. She knew she did. It was...um, crap. She blinked up at him.

  He smiled. “Sorry, poppet, but I’m gonna need a verbal one too. I think it’s too soon for a series of blinks to qualify. Besides, I won’t be able to see you blinking if I’m kneeling behind you.” He chuckled wickedly. “It is my favorite position, after all.”

  She giggled as his quip relaxed her. This was supposed to be fun, after all. She was here because she wanted to be. She wanted Sawyer, his rope and the beautiful oblivion that would come with it. Now what the heck was her safe word?

  “Fire.”

  Of course. Fire. Duh. She’d played with a few tops and knew the score. It was time to stop acting like a rank newbie and be the sexually confident woman she was.

  “Fire, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “Good enough for me. Come on. The playroom’s this way.”

  He didn’t let go of her hand as he drew her up the walkway, through the front door to the amazing sweeping staircase. But she stopped short at the hair-raising growl echoing in the foyer.

  “Gaston, chill,” Sawyer ordered as the hugest dog she’d ever seen came barreling down
the stairs.

  Kyla inched a little closer to Sawyer. She loved animals generally, but huge and kind of aggressive dogs had her searching for cover.

  “It’s all right. Gaston’s just a big softie. He’s a textbook example of bark worse than his bite. Isn’t that right, buddy?” Sawyer let go of her hand and kneeled to pet his dog. Actually it looked more like cuddling.

  Kyla smiled at the surprising tender side to the big, bad dom. Sure, her other tops had been human too, both rough and yet tender at times. But she had put Sawyer on such a high pedestal she’d forgotten about the man beneath the hype and loads of followers.

  “Do you mind giving me a minute? I need to line him out for the night. Feed him and other stuff.”

  “Sure, no problem. Can you point me to the bathroom while you’re occupied?”

  “There’s one through the living room on the left.”

  She watched in silence as he raced the Great Dane from the room, his laughter echoing around her. She turned and surreptitiously surveyed his house while she walked in the direction he’d indicated. Instead of the lavish furniture she had anticipated, given the grandiose stature of the house, a well-loved leather sofa sat in the middle of the living room, facing a high-end flat screen TV complete with every game console she had ever seen in her entire life. He didn’t even have a dining table, she noticed as she peeked into the room beyond. Instead, huge beanbag-type things took up the dining room, all with a heavy vinyl finish. A few firm sectionals sat on the far side of the living room. She couldn’t imagine spending much time on them without any type of padding—they looked kind of uncomfortable.

  Not wanting to get caught snooping, she darted into the bathroom, took care of her business and touched up her makeup before returning to the bottom of the stairs to wait for him.

  A few moments later, he returned from the hallway and greeted her with a huge smile. “You ready?”