Up In Knots

by Gillian Archer

  Kyla froze. He couldn’t be thinking what she thought he was thinking. “I, uh—”

  “It’s okay. Only as much as you’re comfortable with. We’ll go at your pace.”

  Her hand shaking lightly, Kyla slowly caressed herself. She tried to block out the face that was six inches away from her. She wasn’t a prude. Heaven knew she’d done this a thousand times before. Only never in front of an audience.

  And this time, it felt different. Sawyer’s rope ran along the delicate skin on her inner thighs. With every shift of her body, the rope bit a little more. The sensation excited her. And embarrassed her. Her emotions were in such turmoil she couldn’t relax and enjoy herself. And as much as tried to fool herself, she could feel the weight of his stare.

  Running a finger softly up her slit, she came to rest on her clit and ran her finger in a circle around it. Her movements felt robotic and unnatural. After a few heavy and not-very-sexy moments, Sawyer bent down to her breast again. Nipping and suckling, his teasing mouth provoked sensations she felt deep in her core. Soon her finger was slipping and sliding around her clit, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. Now when she moved and the rope chafed her delicate skin, she welcomed the sensation—the sting of pain enflamed her. She continued stroking, teasing herself until she hovered on the brink. Her breath left her in panting gusts. She was so close. Just a few more...

  Her toes curled and she shuddered as wave after wave of euphoria swept over her. Right when the tremors started to abate, a soft humming filled her ears and then vibrated through her body. Sawyer ran the vibrator she’d picked out over her slit. He rested it over her clit, and she went over again.

  An orgasm stronger than any before ripped through her. She would’ve turned away from him, from the vibrator, but his grip on her hips wouldn’t allow her to move. She convulsed as one orgasm after another slammed through her body.

  Finally, she didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later, Sawyer slowly removed the vibrator and kissed her brow.

  At that moment she didn’t know if she really liked the man or wanted to kill him. There apparently was such a thing as too much pleasure. She only knew she was too freaking tired to move a muscle.

  * * *

  “Give me a minute to get some feeling back in my limbs, then we can do you,” Kyla murmured, barely moving her lips.

  “Ah honey. Don’t worry about me.” Sawyer drew her into his arms and let her rest her head on his shoulder.

  “No, I’ll be fine in a minute,” she slurred.

  “I’m sure you will be,” he murmured into her ear. He watched as her eyelids grew heavy.

  Lying back with a sigh, he ignored his raging hard-on and enjoyed the feeling of a warm and snuggly woman in his arms. He hoped like hell he hadn’t gotten in over his head. Kyla was the type to form attachments and that was something he didn’t want to do again.

  So why the hell had he promised to help her? She epitomized all the pitfalls of long-term commitment. If anything, he should’ve run a mile when he’d realized how fragile and hurting she was. He didn’t do feelings because at the end of the day they only led to one thing, heartbreak. He’d seen it often enough with his folks, his friends and with his own few expeditions into serious dating. Hell, Kyla was the perfect walking billboard for why relationships sucked.

  But he’d promised. And Master Kinbaku would hang him by his balls if he walked away from a woman like Kyla. She had a problem, and he could help her. He knew plenty of tops who would give their left nut to play with such an honest and open submissive as Kyla. Besides, if there was one good thing he wanted to be known for, it was that he was a man of his word.

  Looking down at Kyla’s beautiful face, he just hoped this was a vow neither one of them would come to regret.

  * * *

  “Oh! Mmmmph!” The next morning Kyla woke up to the wettest, slobber-filled kiss of her life. Judging by the panting accompanying it, Sawyer was no longer her only bedmate. She cracked open one eye and found Gaston sitting by the side of the bed. Deftly dodging his next tongue swipe, she rolled to the middle of the bed but instead of rolling into Sawyer’s body, she met with cool sheets.

  “Nothing quite says you’ve overstayed your welcome like getting a good-morning kiss from a mutt,” she muttered to the ceiling.

  She stretched in the bed, luxuriating in the feel of the silk sheets against her body. She had half a mind to wait and make him actually kick her out, but given the way last night had turned out, it might prove to be a little more awkward than most mornings-after-the-night-before. She winced as the memories of last night came back to her. Like crying all over him. And leaving him totally unfulfilled. When did she turn into that girl? At least she’d taken a step forward. Some progress had been made. She tried to focus on that thought and not the embarrassing, cringe-inducing memories.

  Pushing away from the bed with a groan, she stopped and patted Gaston on the head, then searched in vain for her clothes. Clothing was the one thing that would help make the morning after a bit less awkward. Where the hell was her skirt?

  “I don’t give a damn, Becca. Honestly, I don’t know why you keep calling. I haven’t come home in ten years. What makes you think this’ll make a difference?”

  The muffled sound of Sawyer’s irritated voice made her search more frantically for her clothes. Finally spying the pile neatly folded on top of a spanking bench, she grabbed them and wiggled herself inside. Unable to find her panties, she finger-combed her hair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before stepping into her high heels.

  “You can tell them whatever the fuck you want to. Just as long as you tell them I’m not coming.” A beep and a frustrated huff sounded from the other side of the partly open door.

  Kyla stood on her side of the door, uncertain of what she should do. More than anything she wanted to make a quick escape and forget this awkward encounter had ever happened. As embarrassed as she felt this morning, she knew she was also glowing. That man had given her more orgasms in one night than she thought physically possible. Part of her wished he’d want a repeat, but the realistic side of her knew that wasn’t in the cards. Definitely time for the quiet escape.

  Except she hadn’t driven herself. She shifted on her feet, weighing her very few options. Maybe she should call a cab? But that could mean an awkward wait. There was no way she was calling her sister for a ride. That escape would come at too high a price. Maybe she should call Neri?

  But Gaston took away any hope she had for an unnoticed getaway as he nudged the door and revealed Sawyer standing a few feet in front of her with his cell in hand, looking decidedly pissed.

  “I, uh, wasn’t eavesdropping. I mean, I heard some of it, but I didn’t mean... I’m just gonna go.” She didn’t need a mirror to tell her that her face was bright red. This was why she didn’t do one-night stands. She wasn’t adept enough at hiding her emotions. Unable to look at his face, she concentrated on her feet as she stepped around Gaston and into the hall.

  But Sawyer didn’t step back to give her room to leave. She stared fixedly at his broad chest hidden beneath his blue Mighty Mouse T-shirt. Normally she would’ve found his whimsical shirt cute but she just really wanted to run home and hide her head in the sand.

  “And a good morning to you. I trust you slept okay?” His amused tone drove her gaze straight to his. Now he appeared to be approachable and so amazingly gorgeous she wished she hadn’t dumped her problems in all her crazy glory last night.

  “Yes. Thank you. And, um—” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Thank you for last night. I’m sorry if I made anything strange or awkward for you. But thank you. I couldn’t, I haven’t...” She shook her head. “I think it’s probably best if I go. Do you know where I left my purse? I can’t find it and I need to call a cab or a frien—”

  “Stop.”

  Kyla froze with her ha
nd in front of her face. She was only going to tuck her hair behind her ear. What did he think she was going to do?

  “I thought we talked about this last night. You agreed to let me help you get back into the scene, get used to playing with someone new and introduce you to some respectable tops.”

  “Well, yes but—”

  “But nothing. Do you think I’m the kind of man to go back on my word?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Her mind blanked. What was the problem? Wasn’t this the answer to her sexual problems? If he was willing to overlook her embarrassing, emotional meltdown last night, why couldn’t she? She bit her lip and faced him. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it or if it was something you said to calm down the weepy woman in your bed. I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust your word, but sometimes things said in bed don’t necessarily translate to the light of day.”

  “I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”

  His hard, set face had her insides trembling. It also did something delicious to her south of the border. For Pete’s sake, she couldn’t get horny in the middle of an argument, or whatever the heck this was.

  “You have a problem, I provided a solution. What’s the holdup?”

  She tore her mind from her trembling and wet thighs to the gorgeously angry man in front of her. Cripes, why did he have to be so delicious? “I, uh, it’s... It’s been a while, you know? I’m not too good at the whole morning-after thing.”

  “It probably didn’t help that you woke up alone. I’m sorry. My phone was ringing and my sister...well, anyhow, I’m sorry. I did send Gaston in to check on you though.” His mouth curved in that appealing way of his.

  “Yeah, I noticed. I was afraid my morning kiss was from you. A touch too much tongue.”

  He burst out laughing. “Yeah, he’s an affectionate guy. You hang with me, you gotta hang with my boy. Is that a deal breaker?”

  Gaston’s tail thumped against the floor at the sound of Sawyer’s laugh. She looked down at the dog lying sprawled at their feet and smiled. “No, I think I’m okay with that.”

  “Okay, so what’s your number?”

  She blinked at his non sequitur. Seemed a little strange, given all they’d shared last night, and yet he didn’t even know her phone number. She shook her head slightly and rattled off her number while he entered it into his own phone.

  “Great.” He pushed one last button, and the telltale sound of her ringtone filled the air. The distinct wimoweh, wimoweh, wimowehs had her wincing and searching frantically for her hidden purse.

  “Guess it works,” Sawyer murmured once she had finally found and silenced her phone.

  Since her cover had been blown, she might as well come clean. “I like Disney and cartoons and light and funny movies. I’m the kinda dork who believes in happily ever afters.” She frowned and had to look away. “Or at least I did.”

  “Preaching to the choir, honey,” he reminded her, waving at his cartoon-y T-shirt.

  She blushed at the gesture. She knew she shouldn’t have been churlish. Sawyer seemed so above her. With his self-confidence and wicked, naughty ways, it was hard to remember he was just a man. A man she had so desperately wanted to impress. But since she’d destroyed that oh-so epically last night, she might as well give in and be herself. At least this way he’d know what he was in for.

  “And I don’t have a problem with happily ever afters. As long as you’re not looking for one with me.”

  She gave a slight shake of her head. He’d made that point abundantly clear yesterday.

  “Then we have lots in common and nothing to worry about. What are you doing on Friday?”

  “Friday?” She startled at another switch in their conversation. If nothing else, Sawyer would definitely keep her on her toes. “Uh, I don’t know. What’s today again?”

  “Sunday.” Sawyer bent down to rub Gaston’s belly.

  Kyla watched in bemusement as Mr. Bad Boy Top tussled with his huge dog like a kid. He was cute. “Right. I don’t think I have anything planned.”

  “Now you do. We’re going to dinner.”

  Kyla shook her head. “You don’t have to wine and dine me. I’m kind of a sure thing.”

  Sawyer stood to brush the dog hair off his jeans, then leveled her with a firm stare. “Sweetheart, anytime a man is willing to pick up the tab, don’t say no. Besides this isn’t about seduction. We need to renegotiate and I think better with a full stomach.”

  Gaston lumbered over and peered up at her with such soulful eyes she had to lean down to pet him. “Ah, okay. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Great.” She caught the wicked glint in his eye. Suddenly she had a feeling she’d made a deal with the devil. But that was okay with her. If last night was any indication, she needed more devilishness in her life. And definitely in her bed.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Eight

  Three days later, Kyla sat in her office, staring into space. The distant sound of thumps told her that today’s tumbling class was going off without a hitch, but honestly she could not have cared less at the moment. All she could think about was the look in Sawyer’s eyes when he’d dropped her off. He’d looked like a man full of secrets, none of them wholesome. But that was part of his charm, right? And the whole reason she’d sought him out in the first place. She wanted someone who’d help get her back into the kink scene and yet wouldn’t expect a commitment from her. Heaven knew she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet, anyhow.

  She startled as the wimowehs filled her tiny office. Frowning at the “number unknown” display on her phone, she decided to let it go to voicemail. Her sister would kill her if she took a personal call while her sister was busting her butt on the mats. Kyla was technically on the clock and should be working on the books in front of her. Not thinking about Sawyer and his naughty grin.

  A minute later, another set of wimowehs broke out. Unable to ignore them a moment longer, she answered. “Hello?”

  “Poppet, I was starting to think you were ignoring my calls.”

  Only one man on this earth had ever called her poppet. Not that his sexy voice wasn’t a giveaway or anything. She found her own lips curling in response. “Calls?” Meaning more than one?

  “I tried you a minute ago.”

  “Ah, yeah, sorry. It came up as unknown. I had no idea it was you.”

  “And if you had known?” The smile in his voice had her biting her own huge, silly grin back.

  “I, uh, I would’ve... I don’t know.” She laughed. “I’m supposed to be working right now.”

  “Oh, I should let you go.”

  “But I would’ve answered it if I knew it was you.” The words left her in a rush. Her panic that he would hang up was plain to hear. And cringe-inducing.

  “Good. I like to know where I stand on a woman’s priority list. Hopefully somewhere near the top.”

  She shivered at the way he said top. It instantly reminded her of Saturday night and all the wicked things he’d done to her and made her do to herself.

  His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Tell me, sweetheart, are you alone?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes darted nervously around the small office. “Why?”

  “It’ll make the conversation easier on you.”

  Her mind raced at the implications of that tidbit. “Why would it be hard?”

  “Some people find it easier to come clean about limits and sexual preferences over the phone, rather than face to face. And since you were less than forthcoming the last time...”

  She winced at the reminder. “I’m so sorry, Sawyer. I just thought there were some things you didn’t need to know.”

  “You thought wrong.”
>
  She flinched at his harsh tone. “I really am sorry. I just, I didn’t want to talk about Adam. Every time I do...” She blinked away tears.

  “No need for apologies. I promise you’ll make it up to me this weekend.”

  Somehow that sounded all the more ominous. Her heart sped up at the implied threat. She couldn’t wait.

  “Tell me what excites you about BDSM.”

  And her enthusiasm deflated. He went from sounding like some dark lord bent on exacting revenge to an HR consultant doing an interview. So much for sexy fun time on the phone. “I guess for me it’s about letting go. I’ve been so in control my whole life. Middle child syndrome or whatever. There’s something about letting go and letting someone else control what happens in the bedroom that makes me so hot. It goes entirely against what I was raised to believe, but there you go.”

  “No, it makes sense. A lot of very powerful women—and men—need that outlet. It might not match your personality one hundred percent of the time, but then, very few people are able or willing to play twenty-four-seven. And honestly, that part of the life doesn’t interest me. I like being able to turn off the power play and have an honest conversation. You’d be surprised how hard that is with someone kneeling at your feet.”

  She laughed at his imagery. And honestly was relieved he wasn’t into the twenty-four-seven lifestyle.

  “You said the only play you guys did before was sensation and impact? What kind of implements did Adam like to use?”

  She flinched at his name. “We—he liked to use paddles. I have a pretty extensive collection under my bed. Different shapes, sizes, materials and textures.”

  “Which one is your favorite?”

  She darted a glance at the closed door. “It’s this hand-tooled black leather slapper that has the word...‘slut’ cut out.”

  His wicked chuckle filled her ear.

  She couldn’t help but smile in response, even as a shiver snaked down her spine.