Binding Agreement - Excerpt One
She didn’t move. Hardly dared breathe. “What do you want?” she whispered.
His fingertips slipped under her damp hair to lightly stroke the back of her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes. His warm breath curled into her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, drawing him in.
He said, “Open your eyes.”
She did. His dark gaze reached deep into her.
“What do you want?” he asked.
I want. I want.
She knew how to answer I should. I must. The occasional I need.
Kay Denehy had never been an I want kind of girl.
But she wanted now. The wanting squirmed over her skin from her scalp to her toes. It gathered heavily in her breasts and between her legs.
“I’m scared,” she confessed, her voice barely audible.
“I know. You don’t do this kind of thing.”
She shook her head.
“But you will now. With me.” It wasn’t a question. “Let’s get the voir dire out of the way. I’m not harboring any unsavory diseases. I’m guessing the same is true of you.” He waited for her to nod, then added, “Do I need to use a rubber?”
“No, I’m… I’m on the Pill.” She couldn’t believe she was having this discussion with a complete stranger. Everything was happening so fast.
He cupped the back of her neck and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips warm and firm. “You can leave at any time. I won’t stop you.”
What a strange thing to say, she thought, as a knot of trepidation settled in her gut.
He sat back and looked her over. With one hand he gathered her T-shirt at the waist. He twisted it in his fist, tugging to stretch the material tight over her breasts. Her nipples prickled. He stared. Boldly, unapologetically.
When his other hand came up, she thought he was going to caress her. Instead he ripped the material away from the neckband, exposing one breast. Kay flinched, her pulse thunderous in her ears. How could she have thought his eyes kind? she wondered, staring at him. She could boil in those eyes.
His movements were leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy her. He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back over the rolled arm of the sofa. His other hand slid under her back to lift her, sharply bowed, like some pagan offering.
She couldn’t see him, could only stare at the ceiling as his scalding mouth closed over her nipple. She jerked and cried out. He suckled her hard while she writhed and bucked as if to pitch him off her. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, his flesh hard and unyielding under the soft waffle-knit shirt.
Finally he lifted his head and hers. “Tear the rest of it.”
“The shirt. Rip the other side.”
As if she were a detached observer, she watched her hand grab hold of the material still attached to the neckband. She pulled, but it refused to come free. Patiently he waited. She brought her other hand up and, using both, managed to tear it.
He said, “Good.”
Lying before this stranger fully dressed but with her breasts flagrantly bare, Kay felt a surge of alarm. What was she doing? She’d never done anything like this in her life. She’d never even imagined it.
You’re doing what you promised yourself, the small, brave part of her returned. Taking risks, living life. She just hadn’t known it would be so scary.
I want…I want…
I want this man to make love to me. I want him to keep looking at me this way. With an intensity that both frightened and inflamed her.
He pulled her to a sitting position and drew her arms up to link her hands behind her neck. She felt her breasts lift, felt strands of hair tangle in her trembling fingers. He sat back and studied her–her form, her expression and, she suspected, her level of compliance.
“Very nice,” he said at last. Rising, he pushed the coffee table well away from the sofa. “Stand up.”
She did, dropping her hands to her sides. He replaced them behind her neck and gave them a little squeeze, a wordless reprimand.
She said, “How–“
“Don’t speak. Unless I ask you a question.” His tone was dispassionate. “You may make other sounds if you can’t help yourself, but no words. And don’t move when I’ve positioned you as I want you.”
Kay was torn between outrage and curiosity. Between her self-protective instincts and her burgeoning arousal.
I can leave anytime, she reminded herself. He won’t stop me.
He watched her face, watched the clash of conflicting emotions she couldn’t hope to conceal. Finally he said, “Take off the pants.”