Faking It - Excerpt Two

Faking It by Pam McKenna

“I don’t believe this is all you took from my room.” Garrett’s voice was low, almost menacing.

“Oh, will you give it a rest?” She rolled her eyes and tugged on the handcuffs. “And let me have my hand back?”

“I think you made off with something else of mine.” His green-ice gaze traveled down her body, with glacial slowness, and up again. “And I intend to find it.”

Was this guy serious?

Britt started to ask him just that, but something in his expression made her ponder the answer for real. She studied him carefully–the secret half smile, the impish light in his eyes–and bit back a surprised grin.

Hallelujah. Never again would she accuse Garrett of being sexually unimaginative.

“I told you, asshole,” she said, getting into character, “I didn’t take your stupid gun.”

“Right. Guns scare you.” With his free hand he gathered her hair in his fist and pulled, forcing her to look him in the eye. “What about me? I don’t scare you?”

“You’re nothing but hot air.” She tried in vain to wrench free of him–or pretended to. The more he restrained her, the more turned on she got. “Go ahead. Search my tote bag. You won’t find anything.”

Garrett turned to Jack. “Dump the bag.”

Never slow on the uptake where sex games were concerned, Jack didn’t miss a beat now. He upended the straw bag. They watched her towel, water bottle, sunscreen and paperback romance novel fall to the sand.

“There,” she said. “Satisfied?”

Garrett’s response was a smile so deliciously wicked she felt it in her core. “Not yet. Tell me, Britt–where’s the key to the handcuffs?”

“The…?” Oops. He probably kept the key in the same drawer, but it hadn’t occurred to her to look for it. “I don’t have it.”

“Bullshit. You’re hiding it.” He gave her the once-over again. “Somewhere on your person.”

Britt glanced down at her clingy bikini. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Jack grabbed her arms from behind, handcuffs jangling, as Garrett released her. “This’ll go easier for you if you cooperate.”

“A simple pat-down,” Garrett said, “then we’ll let you go.”

God, I hope not, she thought. He reached for her and she lashed out with her feet, forcing him to hop back or take one to the nuts.

“So that’s the way it’s going to be, huh?” He cocked his head toward the lifeguard stand, and Jack propelled her toward it.

“No!” she yelled, grateful for Jack’s immense strength. She could fight him like a demon with no risk of actually breaking free. “You bastards! Let me go!”

The sides of the lifeguard stand were straight A-shapes, the back was a sloping X, and the front was open. Jack forced her against one of the A’s, facing out. He pulled her arms up, drew the other end of the handcuffs behind the top of the A where the wooden struts crossed just below the lifeguard’s bench, and shackled her other wrist. Her arms were now immobilized over her head, rendering her spectacular cleavage even more spectacular.

Britt screamed and cursed. She kicked out at Garrett and Jack, who stripped off his T-shirt, grabbed her right leg, and used the shirt to tie her ankle to one leg of the A. Garrett whipped off her pareo and secured her other ankle. Then they stood back and admired the spectacle of Britt bound hand and foot to the old lifeguard stand, legs spread wide.

Her heart drummed as she fought her restraints. Her pussy throbbed with a pulsing heat. Being at the mercy of these two off-the-charts-sexy men excited her beyond measure. “You pricks–you can’t do this to me.”

Garrett approached her. “I figure that key must be on her somewhere, don’t you, Jack?”

“Damn straight.” Jack walked through the front of the lifeguard stand to take up position behind her. “Girl doesn’t fight like that unless she’s got something to hide.”

“Don’t worry.” Garrett planted his palms on the stand. He leaned in close to her and murmured, “We’ll find it.”

Britt gave a surprised squeak as Jack’s hands slid from the back of her halter top to the front. He took his time, patiently feeling her breasts through the stretchy fabric. His warm breath tickled her ear as he said, “She likes being frisked, G.”

“No.” She shook her head.

Jack chuckled. “You can lie to me, babe, but these can’t.” He plucked her stiff nipples. She gasped.

“Where’s the key, Britt?” Garrett asked. “If you give it up now, we won’t have to strip-search you.”

“You don’t want that, do you?” Jack purred near her ear. He rolled her aching nipples between his fingers, grinding his erection against her bottom. Her eyes drifted shut as she savored the sensations. “Can you imagine how humiliating that would be–stripped naked and tied to this thing for as long as we decide to leave you here?”