by Joanne Rock
She leaned against the table he sat on, giving her a rare opportunity to be nearly eye-to-eye with a man half a foot taller than her.
“You’re going nowhere today even if I have to lock you in the house to make sure of that.”
She smoothed one of the leather straps to her corset between two fingers. “Why not just tie me to my bedpost instead?”
He opened his mouth to speak and snapped it shut again. He swallowed. Flexed his jaw as if grinding his teeth. Then pointed a finger in her face. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“So show me.” He’d been with more women than she could count. Would it kill him to indulge her for a day? Maybe two? She edged her way closer to stand between his knees. “Especially since you robbed me of the chance to abduct a more fun captive.”
Trailing a hand over his thigh, Kyra absorbed the heat of him through her fingers. The bristly hair of his leg lightly scratched over her palm.
“You’ve temporarily lost your mind, woman.” Jesse imprisoned her wandering hand just as she reached his shorts. “What else would you have me do?”
As he held her there, immobile but far from powerless, Kyra could see the quick pulse in his neck, feel the tension in his body.
She insinuated herself farther into the vee of his thighs, their bodies a scant inch from touching. Leaning close, she whispered in his ear.
“I think I’d have you barter sexual favors for your freedom.”
4
IF KYRA HAD BEEN any other woman, Jesse would be well on his way to making her forget her own name by now.
As he held her slender wrist with one hand, it occurred to him he’d never restrained a woman’s touch before. Hell, he’d never restrained his own desire to touch for that matter.
Women had always given him the green light, and he’d always accepted it with pleasure. To hold back was an all-new experience. One which he hoped fervently he’d never have to repeat.
“Sexual favors have no place between friends. You know that.” He tried not to notice the satiny texture of the skin on the inside of her wrist.
“Since when?” Her other hand slid over his chest in a provocative swirl.
Before he imprisoned that one, too. “Since always. What kind of friend would I be if I let you sleep with a low-down two-timer like me?”
She lifted a sunny blond eyebrow and met his gaze dead-on. “What kind of friend would you be if you denied me the best orgasms in Citrus County?”
So much of his blood surged south, she might as well have set up a damn IV to his Johnson. Damned if he didn’t feel light-headed.
“My reputation has definitely been overstated,” he managed to croak in between gulps of much-needed air.
She leaned closer, her breasts brushing his chest. “I don’t think so.”
Somewhere between the brush of her breasts and her whispered words, Jesse must have let go of her hands. All of the sudden, they were everywhere, on his shoulders, spilling down onto his back, drawing him closer.
Such soft, silky palms. He’d seen her riding and working with gloves on a million times over the years. Never once had he suspected she’d been protecting such smooth skin underneath that dusty leather.
He reached for her—thinking he’d insert some space between them—but instead he pulled her closer when his fingers met the cotton of her skirt. Her hips were narrow along with the rest of her body, but they curved gently from her waist, providing an inviting niche for a man’s touch.
For his touch.
A soft moan escaped her lips, a cry both earthy and feminine. The note of hungry longing pushed him over the edge. He might have been able to resist his own sexual urges. But how could he continue to refuse hers when he’d never been able to deny her anything in over a decade of friendship?
Assuring himself he would find a way to keep things under control, Jesse slid off the table and onto his feet, never letting go of Kyra’s hips. He took one look at her flushed cheeks, her half-closed eyelids, and knew he wasn’t going to be able to walk away anytime soon.
She raised both palms to his chest and pressed him gently backward. Not that he moved anywhere.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she whispered, sultry as Eve before the fig leaves.
“I’m going to barter for my freedom.” He tugged her toward the bedroom, a room he’d built with his own two hands long before he ever suspected he’d spend any time within those four walls. “And I’ve got a sexual favor in mind that will curl your toes, melt your insides and make you forget all about playing pirate for the day.”
* * *
Oh. MY.
Kyra’s footsteps followed in the wake of Jesse’s as he pulled her into the bedroom. She’d dreamed about this moment more times than she could count, yet a niggling fear gave her pause. Was he acting on seductive autopilot in giving her what she wanted, or did he feel a small measure of the same sensual hunger she did?
Or what if—God forbid—he was acting out of some sense of pity?
As much as she wanted whatever toe-curling, inside-melting experience Jesse Chandler had to offer, first she needed to be certain his erotic overtures were fueled by a little passion and not some misguided sense of duty as her friend.
And she could only think of one way to find out as Jesse drew her down onto the simple white linens of her king-size four-poster bed.
She dove for his shorts.
The move wasn’t exactly subtle, but until she touched him, she couldn’t be entirely sure how she affected him. Granted, she would have to be blind not to notice the man wasn’t turned on at the moment. But for all she knew, men automatically responded to leather corsets and a few throaty sighs.
Kyra had always been a practical, salt-of-the-earth type of girl, and she felt more comfortable getting her own handle on the situation, so to speak. She needed to see how he reacted to her touch.
“Holy—” Jesse’s swallowed oath and wide eyes weren’t exactly the reactions she’d hoped for.
“What?” She smoothed her fingers over the altogether pleasing shape of him beneath his clothes. She had little enough experience in this arena, but she possessed enough to be impressed.
Jesse’s eyelids fell to half-mast before he caught both her hands in his. “Have you always been this much of a pistol and I just missed it?”
Their gazes connected in the dim light filtering through closed wooden blinds and sheer lace curtains. Between the setting sun and the muted colors of the room, Kyra couldn’t even see where the dark brown of his eyes stopped and the black center of his pupils began.
She sat perfectly still, transfixed by the rapid beat of her heart, the steady warmth of Jesse’s stare. “You ought to know I only do things all or nothing. Starting the Crooked Branch. Helping you build this house. Going for broke at the horse shows. If I want something, I am very willing to work for it.”
In fact, she was quite willing to do whatever it took to make sure Jesse noticed her, to make sure he stayed tonight. But he was making it a bit of a challenge by restraining her hands at every turn.
Working on instinct, she settled for leaning back into the Battenburg lace pillows to recline the rest of the way on the bed.
Like an indomitable force of nature, her breasts remained standing even when she lay down. Corsets rocked.
“You’re a wild woman.” Jesse’s eyes burned a path down the leather laces holding her outfit together.
Kyra rather liked the idea of unveiling a whole new side of herself that only Jesse would see. Because she felt safe with him, she could be more adventurous than she would be with any other man. More daring.
“Wild and wicked.” She ran the top of her bare foot up the inside of his calf. “That’s me.”
Jesse dodged the path of her marauding toes and followed her down to the mattress, pinning her hands over her head. “Not for long you’re not.”
His nearness cooked up a thick heat in her veins and sent a rush of liquid warmth through her body. Hi
s tanned muscles flexed on either side of her cheeks as he held her in place on the bed.
“I’m not?” She sure felt certifiably wicked at the moment.
“No.” He released her hands to trail his fingers up her bare arms to her collarbone, then down her sides to rest on her hips. “In a few minutes you’re going to be sated and tame.”
“Promises, promises.” Her limbs went heavy and liquid at the thought of what he might have in mind. “Are you sure you can deliver on such a bold pledge, Jesse Chandler?”
He surveyed her body with the slow thoroughness of a world-class artist sizing up a new project. His brown eyes flicked over her stocking-clad thighs, her short skirt and the peekaboo laces holding her corset in place. “Your pleasure is guaranteed.”
Her heart jumped, skipped and pumped double time.
She walked her fingers up one sinewy bicep. “If I’m not completely satisfied, can I ask for a repeat performance until you get it just right?”
He tugged one of the laces free from its knot to loosen the corset, leaving the leather garment in place while exposing a deep vee of cleavage. The movement shifted her cotton blouse to tease over her sensitive nipples and send a rush of heat between her thighs.
“I take great pride in my work, Kyra. I would never stop until I got it just right.” He skimmed his hand over the flesh he’d exposed, carefully avoiding her breasts and making her all the more urgent to be touched.
She just barely resisted the urge to fan herself. No wonder the man had captivated feminine imaginations from one end of the Sunshine State to the other. Every inch of her felt languid and restless, heavy and hungry at the same time.
Opening her mouth to speak, she was surprised to discover words failed her at the moment. She could only think about indulging her every fantasy about Jesse. Could only envision tying him to her just this once to realize the sexy dreams that had plagued her nights and prevented her from being able to appreciate any other man.
Although as Jesse stared deep into her eyes and trailed his fingers lightly down the valley between her breasts, Kyra wondered if she’d ever be able to pry this man from her fantasies.
His voice growled husky and deep in her ear. “Are we agreed then?”
She blinked, fought for a rational thought even as the magic of his hands lured her deeper into a world of pure sensation. “Agreed on what?”
“My freedom for your pleasure?” His touch hovered close to one scarcely covered nipple. So close. His breath huffed warm against her shoulder as he staked his terms for sensual negotiation.
And she couldn’t have bargained for a better deal to save her life. Insistent hormones and liquid joy crept through her veins and made her amenable to anything—everything—he wanted.
“Deal.”
The moment the word left her lips, her unspoken wish was granted. Jesse’s fingertips smoothed over the aching tips of her breasts through the thin cotton, then plucked the sensitive crests until she shivered with wanting.
Hungry for more, she wriggled closer to him on the bed, desperate to experience the press of his chest against her bared skin. With eager, clumsy fingers, she tugged his shirt up to the middle of his chest and laid claim to his heated skin with her palms. Greedily, she absorbed the nuances of his body with her hands, mentally reconciling the muscles she’d stared at for years with the ridges and angles underneath her touch.
He felt hot and hard and better than she’d ever imagined. But if she wasn’t careful, Kyra knew she’d find pleasure with him far too soon, long before she’d had a chance to tease and tantalize him.
Forcing herself to slow down, she stilled her fingers and looked up at him to find his eyes glittering with the same heat that fired through her.
But before she could celebrate that small victory, Jesse covered her with his body, cradled her cheek in his hand and caressed her mouth with his own.
* * *
SHE TASTED LIKE honeysuckle—warm, sweet and heady. Jesse was drowning in her already and he’d only just barely touched his lips to hers.
Everything about this encounter had “mistake” written all over it, but he couldn’t have stopped himself now if he tried. The hell of it was, even if he could have scavenged some last remnant of control, his sensible best friend had turned into an exotic temptress and she urged him on at every turn.
Her hands fluttered restlessly at his shoulders, delicately steering him where she wanted him. Her calf wrapped around the back of his to mold him more tightly to her, demonstrating a strength he hadn’t suspected in her slight form.
He deepened the kiss, claiming her mouth for his own even as he reminded himself to be gentle. He didn’t have a clue how he’d walk away from her, as if she was any other woman, tonight after he showered her with earthly delights.
But he would. He had to.
He’d never allowed any woman to get under his skin before and Kyra was more dangerous than most because he cared about her.
Already he was taken by surprise to realize how much her satisfaction meant to him. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to be roped into this ill-advised escapade, but now that they lay so close to one another in her monstrous four-poster bed, Jesse wanted nothing so much as to make tonight one she’d never forget.
Breaking the kiss, Jesse brushed his lips across her silky soft skin, over her cheek and down to the throbbing hollow of her neck. He’d known her for half a lifetime, yet everything about her was new and different tonight.
He’d noted in the past that Kyra was passionate about anything and everything she’d ever done—a quality he’d always admired because it was so foreign from his own love ’em and leave ’em approach. But now, having all that passion turned on him scared him to the roots of his too-long hair. Her fingers had found their way under his shirt, crawled across his chest and clutched him to her until he had no choice but to feel every square inch of her perfect breasts pressed up against him, the thin layer of cotton between proving no barrier at all. Still, he couldn’t resist plunging both hands into the loosened remains of her leather corset and unbuttoning the tiny fastenings on that blouse.
Gently, he nudged the fabric aside. Exposed her all the more to his gaze.
The sensation of seeing her breasts bared to him seemed incredibly decadent, yet forbidden because Kyra was his friend. But it was all so damned awesome he wanted to kneel before her gorgeous body and worship her in ways no other man had ever dreamed of.
“Kyra.” Whispering her name in the darkness, Jesse wondered if he’d ever be able to speak it again without getting turned on. “Lay still for me so I can look at you.”
Her blue eyes glittered back at him in the near darkness that had settled over her bedroom. Her restless hands slid away from his chest to fist at her sides. “I’m not good at being still.”
She wriggled against the simple lace bedspread as if to prove the point. Fleetingly, Jesse remembered how difficult it had been for her growing up with her father when he was in a depressive state. A high-energy teenager and a tired old man who only wanted to retreat from life had been a challenging combination on both sides.
“But I’ve never gotten to see you this way before.” He pinned her wrists on either side of her head, levering himself above her in a half-hearted push-up. “And who knows when I’ll ever get another shot at seeing you naked. I plan to look my fill.”
A slight breeze slid through the blinds at the window, rustling the starched curtains alongside her bed and stirring a lock of her hair to blow against his arm. She’d wrapped herself around all his senses just as thoroughly as those long blond strands conformed to his bicep.
Tonight she looked so soft and fragile. Intellectually, he knew her petite body concealed kick-butt strength and behind her delicate features lurked a sharp wit and clever mind.
Still, Jesse couldn’t resist tracing her perfectly crafted cheekbones with his lips. Couldn’t stop himself from skimming the smooth skin at her temple with the edge of his jaw.
“I don�
�t think it’s fair you get a sneak preview while I’m still left wondering what’s in store for me.” Her gaze dipped downward to linger on his...shorts. “Don’t you think I ought to be entitled to a little show-and-tell here too?”
As if in a quest to be seen, his Johnson reacted of its own accord. She was killing him already and she hadn’t even touched him yet.
He swallowed. Gulped. Sought for an even delivery of his words but still ended up sounding as strangled and hoarse as the Godfather in his old age. “I think you ought to behave before I have to get rough with you.”
Even in the dim light he could see the answering spark in her eyes. The definite interest.
“I’d like to see you try.” Her dare whispered past his better judgment and straight to his libido stuck in overdrive.
Ah, damn.
He had no business playing kinky sex games with Kyra Stafford. Why then did he find himself slipping his finger into one looped end of the loosened leather laces that had held together her corset?
“Don’t bait me, woman.” He tugged the slender ribbon of leather free from one eyelet after another until at last he held the long black strap in his hand. “I’m armed.”
A wicked smile crossed her lips. “Do your worst, Chandler. I’m ready for you.”
His mouth watered with the hunger to test the truth of that statement. Was she really ready for him right now? So soon? Before he’d even slid off her tiny skirt?
The notion teased, taunted, tempted the hell out of him. He wanted to slide his hand up under the hem of her outfit and touch every hidden nuance of her body, every intimate feminine curve that he’d never allowed himself to contemplate before.
But he didn’t.
Not yet.
Instead, Jesse called upon his considerable experience in pleasing women and forced himself to choose the slower path, the one that would drive both of them more wild in the long run.
“Never say I didn’t warn you.” He breathed the words into her ear, grazing his body gently over hers.
Doubling up the skinny leather corset strap in his hand, Jesse pulled the end of the loop taut to make the two sides slap together with a sharp snap.
