Sex,Lies, and Bondage Tape

by Saskia Walker

  "I want you, Tommy, and I..." Her voice faltered. "Hurry, I don't want to waste a moment." Her hips moved against him, her hand reaching for his sheathed erection, stroking it.

  "Neither do I." He groaned. With her hand on his dick like that, the need to be inside her was growing ever more urgent. He climbed over her opening thighs, his dick seeking her out. Rising up on his arms, he paused briefly to look at the need in her face. Her eyes were bright and feverish, and her thighs drew up around his flanks.

  "I thought about this all week...is it such a crime to want you?" He lifted her chin as he spoke and looked deep into her eyes.

  She shook her head.

  "Tommy," she moaned, a plea in her voice, hands clutching at him when she felt his dick nudging into her.

  With one strong thrust, he was buried to the hilt inside her, and her body closed tightly around him. Oh, that felt so good. She clutched him so invitingly, her cunt so hot and slippery. He groaned aloud, thrusting deep against her, reaching for each demand of her body on his. Her hands were on his back, pulling him harder against her, a pant freeing from her throat each time their movements met.

  He moved her legs higher, and she latched them over his shoulders, bending her under him. He felt how her body molded inside, how it reacted to him, how each thrust reverberated through the tender, sensitive flesh of her cunt.

  She rolled her head, looking away, but he drew her back with one finger against her chin, locking eyes with her. His thighs trembled with effort.

  She struggled with eye contact, it was almost too much to ask of her, but he could see that she wanted to do it, as he much as he wanted her to.

  "Kelly," he whispered, slowing his movements inside her. He paused mid sentence to pull out and thrust deeper. He groaned.

  She nodded. "Now."

  He was determined to stay with her. When he felt her jolt and quiver from deep between her thighs, he was harnessed to her and her moment. She was running eager hands over his shoulders, pulling at him. She cried out, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, her cunt clutching over and over.

  The climax barreled through him, tensing his every muscle, his body seizing, his dick lurching. He roared aloud, letting some of the tension escape that way. Gasping for breath, he blinked to regain his focus and saw her looking up at him still.

  As the climax subsided, he shifted his hands on the floor, realigned himself, one hand going to her leg against his neck, stroking it, turning into it and kissing it, lovingly.

  "So good, you feel so good," he murmured. "Oh, Kelly..."

  She wormed from his grasp, closing on him instead. Rolling him onto his back, she kissed him hard, stopping the words he might have said.

  Chapter Seven

  Don't look back.

  Kelly stood at the bedroom door, both hands against it. She was dressed and ready to go—with all her fancy underwear and cosmetics in her backpack—but something inside her felt as if it were being torn apart. All she had to do was leave. He was asleep. She just had to walk through the door, and she'd fulfill her quest for revenge. He'd wake up alone, just like she'd done the week before. The victory felt strangely hollow now, though. It had been so good the night before, that's why.

  When she'd finally let him break free and take her, it had been the most intense thing she'd ever experienced. He hadn't let her look away, maintaining eye contact the whole while. She'd never made love like that before, and that's what it was: making love. I've never actually "made love" before, she realized, and she was already craving more of it.

  She fought the rising urge to return to the bed, to snuggle in against him and wake him with a kiss. They could share breakfast in bed, make love again. You don't need men, she reminded herself, only for one thing. The fact that he was so good at it was no reason to stay with him. Don't be weak. She rested her forehead against the door.

  He will only hurt you.

  That did it. Taking a deep breath, she moved one hand to the door handle, and turned it. The door clicked open. For one, brief moment, she paused, hoping that the sound had woken him, that he'd call her back. But all was quiet, save the sound of his breathing as he slept. Opening the door, she shook off her silly doubts and went through it.

  * * * *

  Tommy stirred, yawning and blinking into the narrow line of sunlight that shone into the room. It took him a few moments to work out where he was, and as he did so he had a strong feeling of déjà vu.

  Just like last week all over again, he thought, with a smile. Except the curtains had been completely shut, last night. Kelly must have opened them. Moving, he realized he was alone in the bed. Sitting up, he pushed back the covers, ruffled his hair, and glanced round. The bathroom door was open. She wasn't in there. Perhaps she'd gone to order breakfast. He reached over and put his hand into the soft dent where her body had lain in the bed. It was cold.

  That's when it dawned on him. She'd left him alone in the hotel room, just as he had done to her the week before. He knew she hadn't intended for it to be more than another night, but he'd been too wrapped up in the sex the night before to figure what might happen next. He wasn't overly surprised, though, not anymore. He was getting to know her, no matter how hard she tried to keep him out. He noticed a small white envelope on her pillow, marked with his name. "So you got me back, did you?"

  Yes, but she had left a note. Being the sort who was into games and one-upmanship, she would, though, wouldn't she? He shook his head, but he couldn't help being amused. He should have known. He was learning fast. Second-guessing her would be easier the next time. And there would be a next time. He would make sure of that. She'd played him at his game, so he would play her at hers.

  He picked up the envelope, turned it over and pulled out the card.

  Now you know how it feels.

  That was it, no other comments, it wasn‘t even signed, so he still didn't know her last name. Smiling wryly to himself, he realized she'd kept him awake until well past dawn, making sure he was worn out, so that he wouldn't wake when she slipped off. She'd planned this all along, the vixen. Although he supposed he deserved it, at least in her eyes. The way she'd forced him to look at the autograph showed him that much. Everything she'd said, she'd meant. She wanted him to believe her because she was stubborn and determined. She really had something to prove. And so did he, now.

  He'd have to work a lot harder to show her he hadn't wanted to walk away from her. If he'd known she was really interested in him at the outset, they'd still be making the furniture rattle in that very first hotel room, let alone this one. She wanted more, whether she admitted it or not. This hadn't just been about revenge. She'd enjoyed every minute as much as he had. Whatever reason she had for being so bloody prickly, he wasn't going to let her get away.

  Running the card against his nose, he took another breath of that scent she'd been wearing. He rested back against the pillows, dropping the card on his chest. Breakfast in bed would have been good. Feeding her tidbits while she looked at him with those strange eyes of hers. He supposed he should be grateful she hadn't left him tied to the bed for the maid to find. He scanned the room. No sign of the bondage tape.

  Did you keep that for a souvenir, or for another time, Kelly? He groaned, his mind running over the events of the night before, savoring every filthy moment. She'd been a wildcat in bed the weekend before, but seeing her take charge like that last night was something else. She'd used him so thoroughly. He'd never experienced such intense sexuality—such confident domination—in a woman before. Oh, he'd played at it with others, but with Kelly she'd got so far into the role-playing it had consumed her. And him too.

  He ran his hand over his dick, half risen. He still tasted her in his mouth. He wanted to taste her in his mouth again. And again. Idly stroking himself, he shut his eyes and pictured her over him, her taut body towering over him while she lowered her pussy to his mouth. He'd been hard as rock, his balls aching, when he filled his mouth with her, his tongue exploring every soft,
damp inch, devouring her pussy.

  His dick went rigid in his palm. Her kinky sex games would haunt him, and she knew it. He chuckled softly. She was a vixen, a devious, scheming, crazy vixen—and he loved it. If she wanted to play games, he was definitely up for it.

  * * * *

  Kelly shut the front door behind her and dropped her backpack on the sofa, unsure whether she was glad to be home or not. Jojo wasn't around. Her parents had taken her off to a cottage in the country for the weekend for a change of scenery.

  The faint sound of classical music came from the vicinity of Helen's bedroom. She'd be in bed with the Sunday papers, a large mug of percolated coffee, and the classical station on her stereo. It was Helen's once-a-week effort at being informed and intellectual. The rest of the week she played loud rock music and drank instant.

  Kelly was glad Helen didn't appear. She wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone right then. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the CD that Clayton had autographed for Jojo. It had served one purpose, now it would serve another. She went to her friend's room, where she lifted one of Jojo's cuddly toys from the shelf, and sat it on the bed with the CD propped between its paws. That would bring a smile to her face. "Mission accomplished," she murmured to herself.

  When she got inside her own sanctuary, she looked around as if with fresh eyes. It was so different from the exclusive hotel suite of the night before, but she wouldn't want to live in a place like that all the time. Somewhere in between would be nice. She made a mental note to invest in a couple of framed prints and some faux fur scatter rugs next payday.

  She headed for the bed, taking off her clothes on the way. She didn't think she would be able to sleep, her mind was whirring and her body was suffering the kind of obsessive sexual awareness that came from two all-night sessions that blew the mind. But she was physically tired, and it was the logical thing to do.

  It had been so hard to leave him, she mused. All she'd wanted to do was snuggle up against him, enjoy the feeling of his body next to hers, until he awoke. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, making herself turn away in order to complete her mission. But it was done and over with. Now she was home, and she had to get on with her life.

  As she dropped her jeans and T-shirt onto the floor she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror on her wardrobe. Startled, she paused and stepped closer, examining her reflection with curiosity. She looked sated, oh yes, but a bit shell-shocked too. Her hair was a bed-tousled mess, her skin glowed, and her eyes looked full of hidden secrets. On her body, she could see evidence of the sheer physicality of their passion—a kiss bruise on her neck and chest, and a faint bruise on the back of her hip where he'd rolled her across the floor, staying inside her the whole while. Thinking about the way he'd been, so demanding, so determined—even in bondage—her head dropped back and she sighed. He was a force of nature, and he'd hit her hard.

  She turned this way and that, looking at her profile. Undoing her bra, she let it drop to the floor. There was definitely something different about her reflection, but she couldn't work out what it was. Moving closer still, she pushed her hair back from her forehead and scrutinized her face. Her lips looked swollen, slightly bruised. Maybe that was it. Her hand instinctively went over her lace-covered mons. It was bruised and sensitive too. She smiled, remembering. As she did she noticed something else. A slight sense of sadness in her eyes, perhaps?

  "You really like him," she said to herself, with a wry smile. That's what it is. She hadn't looked that way the night before. It was as if the sense of loss had appeared in the cold light of day, when she had woken and known she had to sneak out without waking him or saying good-bye, to complete her plan.

  Stepping away from the mirror, she threw back the quilt and flung herself on the bed. Lying on her back, she shut her eyes. The sound of classical music reached her through the walls. It was soothing and she stroked her body to its rhythm, but whatever she did she couldn't stop remembering images from the night before. Tommy's expressions, how he looked when she surprised him, how genuinely happy he'd been when he'd discovered it was her who'd bought his time, how willing he was when she challenged or pleasured him beyond even his own expectations. Seeing that light in his eyes and that smile on his face did good things to her. Really good. Heartwarming.

  I really like him.

  There was no denying it. Whether they were challenging each other sexually, role-playing or making love, they were entirely attuned. He responded to her wild streak and she couldn't help loving that. Her body craved more of him, and her mind and heart echoed a question over and over—wouldn't it be something to know a man like Tommy Sampson better, to have him be part of your life? But that's not what it had been about. It had been a wild sex game, a chance encounter with a like-minded sexual being. But...if only, her heart echoed once again. Sighing, she grabbed the quilt, and pulled it over her head.

  * * * *

  The door to Clayton's mews cottage was an old world affair with a medieval knocker and a timber-beamed doorway. Tommy lifted the ornate door knocker and rapped. Moments later, Jay appeared in the doorway with a surprised expression on his face.

  "Tommy, just the man. You must be psychic."

  "Run that by me again." Tommy was confused. He'd been about to explain his presence.

  "I was just about to ring you. We need to ask you a favor. Come in, come in." He gestured Tommy into the hallway and pointed in the direction of the sitting room.

  "Looks as if we have a coincidence, I need to ask you guys a favor too."

  "Coincidence and good timing, in that case." Jay shut the front door and followed him in.

  Tommy had visited the place before, and always felt completely oversized in it. The cottage was a highly desirable Tudor residence, but he preferred his warehouse conversion apartment. While here, he always felt he had to keep his elbows in and duck his head in order to avoid bull-in-a-china-shop syndrome, not to mention a concussion.

  In the sitting room, Clayton was scrunched on a brown leather sofa with his head in his hands, looking tense. When he heard footsteps he glanced at the door and his expression broke into a relieved smile when he saw who it was.

  "Thanks for coming, Tommy."

  "No worries," he said, flashing a smile, "but I think there's a misunderstanding here. I called by because I wanted to ask you if you had Kelly's contact details."

  Clayton frowned.

  "I hadn't called Tommy yet," Jay explained.

  "Okay." Clayton shrugged and laughed, sprawling himself more easily into one corner of the sofa, as if the presence of his favorite roadie had brought about a sense of ease.

  "What's up?" Tommy looked at Jay for the answer.

  "Clayton's considering coming out." Jay paused, his eyebrows lifted, his expression implying the seriousness of the matter.

  Tommy tried not to show his surprise, in case that was the wrong thing to do. He lifted his chin in a slow nod. "Right. I see."

  "If he goes for it, he'll be giving a press statement tomorrow afternoon when he's done at the recording studio. We might need you around, just to keep the paparazzi at bay until we get out of London."

  "It's that Kelly woman's fault," Clayton said, shaking his head, one side of his mouth lifted in a sardonic smile.

  "Kelly?" This time Tommy couldn't hide his surprise. He thought they were a long way off from the day Clayton was going to come out, unless he was outed by someone who had happened upon the information, like Kelly had, but someone with fewer scruples. But apparently Kelly had played a part in this.

  Jay indicated Tommy should sit down. "I'll get us some beers."

  Clayton's gaze followed Jay as he left the room. "It was the fact that she was hunting you down, she wanted you that much. I believed her when she said she wouldn't use the information about Jay and me. It was because she wanted you that badly that she came after you, the only way she knew how. It really impressed me."

  "She said she wanted me?" Tommy couldn't he
lp smiling. Despite her bravado and her oh-so-independent "I'm just doing you back, big boy," approach, she did want him.

  Clayton nodded. "Yes, and she said some stuff about me and Jay that made me think..." His forehead furrowed again. "I want to be with Jay. If our relationship comes out, it's better if it comes from me. Any other way, and there is going to be a much less positive slant."

  "Good point, better to be in control of the information. If you're sure it's the right time for you?" He'd known Clayton for a while, at least three years before he got involved with Jay.

  Clayton shrugged. "We're about to go away. We'd only have to suffer the heat for a day or so." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I only need to spend one more day in the studio. We'll do the press release to coincide with the end of that, then do a limited number of appearances before we leave on Tuesday afternoon."

  "Makes sense."

  Clayton gave him a hopeful smile. "I'd be really grateful if you could be around for this."

  "Grateful enough to let me have Kelly's contact details?"

  "What is it with you two? You shag, you say good-bye and then you realize you haven't got each other's phone number?"

  It sounded crazy, when put that way, and Tommy couldn't help feeling a bit embarrassed. "Um, yeah, kind of. So, have I got a deal?"

  Clayton's smile widened. "No can do, I'm afraid. She never gave us any contacts. A bonus fee is all I can offer. Besides, I thought you'd have that information pinned down for yourself by now, Tommy boy."

  "Hey, you're doing wonders for my ego."

  Clayton laughed. "Sorry, mate. So, what gives? Is she playing hard to get?" He looked every bit the rock god again, and so much more at ease discussing someone else's love life.

  Jay appeared with three frosted bottles of beer.