Goody Two Shoes (Invertary Book 2) (37 page)

Helen didn’t kiss him back. She didn’t do much of anything. He knew she was stunned, but he kept on kissing her until she caught up with him. At last, he felt her lips move and her arms slowly wrap around his waist. He wanted to stop and fist-pump the air. But he didn’t. Instead, he backed her into the wall and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. A small moan escaped her lips, and he swallowed it down greedily. He pulled her tight against him, noticing again how perfectly she fit. Briefly he wondered if he should lift her up so that her legs would wrap around his waist. He would take her in the hall, up against the wall. Just like the heroes in all those books liked to do. Sadly, he didn’t think his back could take it, and the last thing he wanted was for the both of them to land on the floor and him to writhe in agony.

No. He needed a bed for what he had planned. He mentally cursed that the beds were all upstairs. He was worried that by the time he got her there, he would have lost his advantage. That left the kitchen. He reluctantly pulled away from her kiss. He stroked his hand over her new short hair. It didn’t bother him much anymore. In fact, it was even kind of sexy. He was pleased to see that Helen’s breathing was fast and shallow.

“What are you doing?” It’d been a long time since he’d heard that breathless whisper. He’d missed it.

He leaned over and snatched the bag from where he’d dropped it outside the front door. Kicking the door shut behind him, he grabbed Helen’s hand and strode towards the kitchen, dragging her along with him.

“Andrew, are you listening to me? You can’t just come in here and kiss me like this.”

“The hell I can. You’re my wife.”

She tugged against his grip. He didn’t release her. “We’re getting a divorce.”

“We’ll see about that.” He kicked the kitchen door open and tugged her inside.

Now, where would be a good spot to get all kinky? He eyed the table. Didn’t he see a scene like that once? What was the movie? Oh yeah.
The Postman Always Rings Twice
. He wasn’t sure he’d liked that film. But the scene he remembered gave him ideas.

He dragged her towards the table.

“Andrew. You’re acting like a madman. Stop this at once.”

“No.”

In a dramatic display of his masculinity, he swept the dishes off the table. He grinned at the sound of them smashing on the floor.

“Andrew. You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be daft.” He dropped the bag beside the table. Picked Helen up and sat her on the edge. Just the right height. He stepped between her legs, cupped her head with his hands and settled his mouth on hers. This time she wasn’t numb. She responded straight away. So much for her complaining. He growled with satisfaction.

Her hands slid into his suit jacket and around to his back. She clung to his shirt. Her nails digging into his back. Andrew wanted to grin. The suit worked a charm.

Slowly, he eased her back until she was lying on the table.

“What are you going?” She was breathless.

“I’m doing what I should have done a year ago when you said you needed space.”

He kept a hand on her stomach as he reached into the bag. He brought out a set of black fluffy handcuffs. They looked a bit cheesy to him, but what the heck. Helen eyed the handcuffs with worry.

“Are those handcuffs?” She struggled to get up. “Stop it right now.”

He snapped the cuff around her wrist, then shackled the other end to the leg of the table.

“Free me right now, Andrew McInnes. Have you lost your mind?”

He ignored her. Instead he brought out the other set of cuffs and secured her other arm. Once he’d finished, he took a step back to survey his work. He couldn’t help the sense of satisfaction that welled within him. The books were right. Everything was going to plan.

Helen thinned her red and swollen lips. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re going to have kinky sex.” He rummaged around in his bag until he found the black silk blindfold.

“We’re what?” Helen was screeching now.

He walked around the table until he was at her head. “No more shouting. It’s ruining the mood.”

Her mouth fell open. “I’m ruining the mood? What mood would that be, Andrew? The mood where my soon-to-be ex-husband snaps, takes me hostage and ties me to the table? Is that even a mood?”

He was regretting his decision not to buy one of the gags he’d seen in the shop. “I’m trying to be romantic, woman.”

Her eyebrows shot up her head. “By tying me up and threatening kinky sex? I don’t want kinky sex. I don’t even know what kinky sex is. I want you to leave.”

“Damn it,” Andrew mumbled, “I thought all women read the same books.” He patted his wife’s head to reassure her. “Don’t worry. I studied up on this. I’ll show you what to do.”

Helen dropped her head to the table with a loud thump. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for sex. Andrew decided to plod on anyway. He had a plan. It was a good plan. He was wearing the suit to prove it.

“Right, lift your head. I need to get this blindfold on.”

Helen glared at him, but lifted her head. “I’m doing this because I don’t have a choice. But as soon as I’m free, I’m calling a psychiatrist for you.”

“Whatever.” Andrew tied the blindfold tight over her eyes. “Can you see anything?”

“No. I’m wearing a blindfold.”

Andrew studied her for a moment before he decided he’d better check. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

She ignored him and ground her teeth together. Fine. He’d just assume she couldn’t see. He stomped back to the bag. Where were his note cards? They weren’t in the bag. He patted his pockets and found them in the inside of his jacket. He read the first one. Cuffs? Check. Blindfold? Check.

He cleared his throat. “You need to pick a safe word.”

“What on earth is a safe word?”

He smothered a sigh. This was proving to be more work than he thought it’d be. “It’s a word you use when you want things to stop.”

“How about I use the word ‘stop’?” She sounded sarcastic.

“That’s not how it works. You need a word that you wouldn’t normally use during sex.”

“Fine. How about ‘dumbass’?”

“I don’t think you’re getting into the spirit of this.”

“Really? You think?”

“Fine. Dumbass it is.” There was no dealing with her when she was in this mood. “If you use your safe word, everything stops.”

“Good.” She took a deep breath. “Dumbass,” she shouted.

Andrew wasn’t sure what to do next. This was not going the way it did in the books. He consulted his note cards. There wasn’t anything on there about her saying her safe word before things started. Should he just stop?

“Why aren’t you releasing me,
dumbass
?”

He wasn’t sure what to say. This didn’t happen in any of the books he’d read. “I’ve decided that you don’t need a safe word.”

“That’s a surprise.” She didn’t sound surprised.

Andrew threw the card with the advice on safe words over his shoulder. What was next? Oh yeah. Delayed orgasm.

“Okay.” He eyed his wife. She didn’t look turned on. She looked tense and resigned. He got the distinct impression she was enduring this. “I’m going to play with you for a while. You are mine to enjoy and you will not have an orgasm. If you do, you will be punished.” He paused and read his card. He was supposed to deepen his voice and sound more commanding. He did just that. “Do you hear me, Helen? You will not have an orgasm unless I give you permission.”

He held his breath while he waited to see what she would do. Her shoulders started to shake. Her lips tightened. Oh no. She was crying. He sprang forward to release her when her lips tipped into a grin and she burst out laughing.

Andrew glared at her. “You will not laugh at your master.”

The laughing got louder. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. What the hell was he supposed to do about this?

“This is insubordination. You will be punished.”

“Oh, stop it. You’re making my stomach hurt.”

“That’s it. I warned you.” He lifted her ankles high in the air and swatted her backside.

Helen laughed so hard she started to wheeze.

“I’m serious here.” He smacked her again.

According to the books, this sort of thing was supposed to turn them both on. His wife was in hysterics, and he could honestly say swatting her ass like she was a two-year-old was doing nothing for him. He let her legs drop. Pulled out a chair and sat down to wait out her hysterics.

After several minutes, the laughter tapered off. Helen’s cheeks were flushed and wet. She was still grinning, and she’d brought her heels up to rest on the table, because she’d been complaining that her stomach muscles were aching.

“Andrew, are you still here?”

He grunted.

“I guess that means you are. And you’re back to your old grunting self.” She giggled again, then worked to get it under control. “What now,
dumbass
?”

Andrew leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table beside her. “I’m damned if I know.”

“Aren’t you supposed to torture me until I beg for an orgasm?” She was mocking him. With a grin on her face.

Andrew couldn’t help but smile at her. She was stunning, lying there all flushed and happy.

“I have a bag full of sex toys to torment you with.”

Her eyebrows went up and peeked out from under the blindfold. “What kind of toys?” He could tell she was trying not to come across as too eager.

He grinned. He trailed his fingers up her arm to her shoulder. Pretty. She was so pretty.

“I’m not telling you now. You ruined the mood.”

She pretended to pout. “So I don’t get my orgasm, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She sucked in a breath, but tried to cover her reaction with a fake light-hearted laugh. Andrew felt hopeful for the first time in months. He leaned over and popped the top button on her dress.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing what’s mine.” He’d stolen that line from a book. From several books, in fact. It seemed to crop up a lot. And damn if it wasn’t a line that actually worked. He could feel her pulse pick up speed under his fingertips. He popped another button.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Her words were saying one thing, but the way she moved into his touch was saying something else entirely.

“I want to get a few things straight.” Andrew popped another button. Her underwear came into view. She was wearing a pale yellow lace bra that he’d never seen before. He traced the edge of the cup with his finger. Pretty.

Helen let out a breath that shuddered slightly. She was working at keeping her breathing even. At trying to hide her reaction to his touch. His shoulders relaxed. It’d been too long since he’d had fun with his wife. Too long since he’d spent time studying her every reaction to him. He’d forgotten how wonderful it was to watch what he did to her. How she reacted to him. He slowly worked his way down the rest of the buttons until her dress fell open at her sides.

Goosebumps made a pattern on her skin as the cold air caressed her. He ran his palm over her stomach, feeling it clench beneath his touch. He wasn’t worried about her being cold. He planned to warm her up.

“You need to release me.” Her voice was shaky. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He liked that she said “we.”

“I want to talk about some stuff.” Her underpants were the same colour as her bra. They had a tiny satin bow on each hip. He wondered if they were there for decoration or if he could untie them.

He shifted in his chair as his trousers became constricting.

“You want to talk?” she said. He could imagine her rolling her eyes. He smiled. “You
never
want to talk. It’s part of the problem. I might as well be living with a blow-up doll. You don’t talk. You don’t do anything at all. You just sit around waiting to die. Well, I don’t want a life like that. I want to live my life. I want to squeeze as much out of it as I can.”

He sighed. How many ways had he screwed things up? How many ways had he hurt his wife?

“You should have told me.” It was the wrong thing to say.

“I did tell you,
dumbass
. Over and over again. That’s another problem we have. You don’t listen. You’re too busy brooding about being old.”

It was a slap to the face. He couldn’t deny she was right. “I’m listening now. Tell me what you want.”

She didn’t say anything. Andrew waited for his wife while he toyed with the bows on her underwear. He tugged at one. Nothing happened. They were decoration. Typical.

“I told you what I need. I need to live.” She turned her face away from him. Andrew didn’t like that one bit.

“So we live.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Like you’ll change.”

Damn right he was changing. He’d bought a suit. He had sex toys. He’d booked an over-the-top romantic trip for two. What was that if it wasn’t changing? He felt a bit miffed that he wasn’t getting the credit he deserved.