Read MisplacedLessons Online

Authors: Mari Carr and Lexxie Couper

MisplacedLessons (6 page)

Instead, she smiled, looking very pleased by his threat.
“Fine. I don’t have enough money for a hotel anyway.” She stood, though he
still kept hold of her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go unpack my things in
the guest room.”

“Oh. Did I forget to mention? You’ll be staying in this
room. With me.”

Amy feigned a yawn. “Been there, done that.”

“And you’ll be doing it again.”

She started to tug against his grip in earnest, but he held
firm. “Not in this lifetime, hotshot. Last night you got lucky because I was
tired and not thinking straight. Today’s a different game.”

“That’s right.” He twisted her hands behind her back,
securing them there in one of his then reaching into the nightstand drawer and
pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He snapped then in place easily, despite Amy’s
struggles. “This game
is
completely new.”

 

Amy’s head spun. Andrew was keeping her here? In his room?

And he thought she’d be resistant?

Andrew really didn’t understand the difference between
punishment and bloody good fun. His high-handed ways were slightly annoying,
but they were nothing she couldn’t deal with. She’d held her own against Thomo
and Blue for years, so this Yank had another thing coming if he thought he was
going to run roughshod over her.

Besides, he was playing completely into her hand. She needed
a place to stay in Chicago the next two weeks and sharing his king-sized bed
would be no hardship. In fact, despite the cuffs at her wrists—how hot were
they?—she’d say the morning had turned out much better than she’d expected.

She’d woken up in a full-fledged panic, wondering what the
hell she was supposed do. Instinct overpowered intelligence and before she
could think through why she shouldn’t call Harper, her friend was on the other
end of the line.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to confess to the
misunderstanding that had led to a night of amazing sex, but Amy wasn’t sure
how Harper would feel about her friend sleeping with her brother. Besides,
Harper sounded so happy and excited, she hated to say anything to ruin her
friend’s vacation.

Just because she’d epically fucked up everything, there was
no reason to take Harper down with her. Instead, she’d simply told her friend
that Andrew had returned early. She wasn’t sure what she had expected Harper to
say, but she was surprised when her friend begged her to continue to hide the
fact she was in Australia.

How was Amy supposed to stay in Harper’s house without
confessing to Andrew who she was? Although she’d suspected—and rightly so—that
Andrew would figure it out on his own eventually.

Then Andrew had walked in. One look at his pissed-off face
and she’d begun trying to mentally calculate how much money was in her bank
account and how high she’d have to charge up her credit cards to foot the bill
for a hotel room.

Her conscience nagged, telling her it was wrong to sleep
with Harper’s brother. Fortunately, she’d always been very good at justifying
most of her questionable actions. After all, Harper was forcing her to take
this path as Amy was simply trying to protect her friend’s secret.

God. She was pathetic.

And still bloody horny.

Andrew had appeared last night with that Zac Efron-looking
scruff he’d sported in
The Lucky One
and Amy had been a goner. Even
without the short beard, Andrew was entirely too good-looking for her peace of
mind.

“Start walking,” Andrew said, pushing her toward the
doorway. “I’m feeling the need for a hearty breakfast. Gonna have to build up
my strength. Then you and I will spend the rest of the day in bed—getting
better acquainted in between naps while we recover from our jet lag. By the
way, you’ll be chained to the headboard. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” She struggled not to laugh when Andrew
frowned at her response. God, he really was making this all too easy. “And just
so you know, you’re not going to trick me into telling you anything about where
I live.”

His grip on her arm tightened. Amy’s stomach clenched. She
was a sucker for an alpha male.

They walked in silence down the hallway. Amy caught a
glimpse of her suitcase in the guest room and felt like dancing. Her trip was
saved after all. She wouldn’t go broke paying for a hotel room and she would be
treated to night after night of nonstop, no-holds-barred sex with Andrew.

Could life get any better?

As they approached the kitchen, the sweet smell of coffee
drew her straight to the counter. “If I promise to behave, will you take the handcuffs
off and let me have a cup of coffee? Even hardcore prisoners get bread and
water, you know.”

Andrew studied her face as she tried to hide her absolute
glee. “Fuck. You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?”

She winked at him.

Andrew chuckled as he released the cuffs. “Coffee cups are
in the cabinet above the dishwasher. Help yourself. Gotta warn you. It’s
strong.”

She was surprised—and disappointed—by his easy capitulation.
She was hoping for more of a fight.

Andrew grabbed a skillet and placed it on the stove. Then he
rummaged around in the refrigerator, bending over in search of something. She
enjoyed the view of his arse as the material of his pants stretched and
outlined it. She was almost sorry when he found the bacon and eggs. He turned
around too quickly and caught her staring.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Enjoying the show?”

She ignored his arrogant comment, turning back toward the
cabinet to find a mug. “Strong coffee sounds perfect. My head’s still fuzzy
from so much travel. And sex.”

He chuckled. “Then we’re in the same boat.”

“Harper expected you to be away for a few weeks. What
happened?”

He didn’t look happy at her mention of his sister. For a
second she thought he might start questioning her again, hit her with a more
intense third degree. Fortunately, he let it go. Though she had no doubt he’d
badger her relentlessly later.

Harper was perfectly safe and having a great time. There was
no harm in keeping her friend’s secret and having a bit of fun with her sexy
brother along the way.

Andrew reached for a bowl, then cracked several eggs before
stirring them with a whisk. Amy tried to decide if there was anything hotter
than a shirtless man making her breakfast. “I spent two days traveling toward a
monsoon before my producers realized that was a stupid thing to do.”

“Clever producers.” Amy took a sip of the coffee and winced.
She wasn’t much of a coffee drinker and he wasn’t kidding about it being
strong. He must’ve noticed her reaction.

“There’s creamer in the fridge and sugar on the counter if
you want to cut that some.”

“What the hell is creamer?”

He lifted one shoulder. “It’s like milk.”

“So why don’t you just say milk?”

He shook his head, his expression the perfect mix of
exasperation and humor. “I have no idea.”

She grinned, then accepted his offer. “Your job must be
incredible. Traveling all over the world, seeing so many amazing places. I’m so
bloody jealous, I can hardly see straight.”

Andrew’s face brightened as he threw some bacon in the pan
to fry. His carefree expression reminded her of the man she’d slept with last
night. He and Harper shared a striking family resemblance, with their dark
complexions and crystal-blue eyes. “I’m not going to lie. It’s the greatest way
to make a living. You travel much?”

She shook her head. “Actually, this is my first time out of
Australia.”

“No way. I’ve been to Australia a few times with the show.
I’ll admit there are some definite differences as far as the landscape goes.
The red of the Outback, the lush green of the Tasmanian rainforests, the sapphire
of the Blue Mountains, the fluorescent cityscape of the Gold Coast. Depending
on where you’re from, of course. Do you find that to be true of your hometown?
Does it have a color?”

He paused, clearly expecting her to answer.

“Really, Andrew? So obvious. So lame. I’m not telling you
where Harper is.”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.
So what do you think of our country?” Andrew put down the whisk and leaned
against the counter.

She licked her lips and tilted her head in what she hoped
was a seductive pose. “I’ve enjoyed the Chicago hospitality so far.”

Mercifully, the sexy man took her hint. Reaching over, he
pulled the pan from the heat and turned the stove off. “How hungry are you?”

She unbuttoned her blouse, loving the way Andrew’s gaze
devoured her as she pulled the soft material over her shoulders. She hadn’t
bothered putting her bra back on in her haste to cover up earlier. “I’m
starving.”

A quick glance at Andrew’s track pants confirmed he was
ready to roll. His thick cock was hard and leaving an impressive tent in the
cotton. “Amy—”

“Gettin’ cold feet? And here I was thinking you were this
big tough guy,” she taunted when she sensed his hesitation.

“Take off those pants and bend over the table.”

His commanding tone pushed every bloody hot button she had.
She quickly complied, positioning herself so that he had a bird’s-eye view of
her arse, the one he’d called gorgeous last night.

Andrew started to pull his pants down, then cursed. “Fuck.
Condoms are upstairs.”

Amy began to rise but he pressed her back against the smooth
wood. “No. Don’t move. Not an inch. I want you to stay exactly like this,
waiting for me.”

“Don’t take too long.”

He placed a light slap on her arse for her cheekiness,
though there was no pain associated with the action. It was meant to serve as a
reminder, nothing more.

She pressed her legs together, feeling the wetness coating
the insides of her thighs.

“Actually,” Andrew said, “I want you to wait for me with
your legs open.” He tapped his toes against her ankles until they were spread
apart enough to suit him.

“You realize you could have already gotten the bloody condom
and been back by now.” His stalling was making her cranky.

“Maybe so, but eventually you need to learn that
anticipation makes the reward a lot sweeter.”

She groaned when he moved away from the table, but didn’t
bother to leave the room.

Here we go again.

He was going to play with her body until it felt like it
would explode with unrequited lust.

“Please, Andrew. Let’s just have a quickie. To take the edge
off. Then you can tease me all you want.”

Andrew didn’t reply. He reached toward a basket on the
counter, grabbing a wooden spoon. That wasn’t on the list of limits.

Not that it mattered. She wasn’t about to turn down
anything. She still regretted saying Oz and missing her opportunity to explore
anal sex.

“You don’t mind pain.”

She remained quiet. His comment had been rhetorical. She
wasn’t going to waste the breath denying something that was obvious to both of
them.

“In fact, it makes you hot.”

He returned to the table, standing directly behind her arse.
She couldn’t see him without lifting her head and twisting. She didn’t bother.
Listening to his deep voice, while not being able to see him or what he planned
to do, added to the excitement. She’d told him she wouldn’t call him master,
but she had to admit, he was bloody good at mastering her.

“How hot can I make you, Amy?”

She bit her lip to keep from telling him she was already in
danger of spontaneous combustion and he hadn’t laid a finger on her. Before she
could offer any answer, the wooden spoon landed squarely on her arse.

She yelped with surprise and pain. “Bloody hell.”

He repeated the action. Once, twice, three times more. She
squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers white-knuckling the edge of the table. The
spoon disappeared, the pain of it being washed away by the sheer bliss of his
fingers as he pressed them inside her pussy. She lifted up on her toes,
struggling for more of his deep, powerful thrusts. Sweat gathered at her brow
as the heat from her arse and her pussy mingled, driving her arousal closer to
the flames she hoped would consume her.

His fingers disappeared before she could leap onto the pyre.
Bloody bastard was up to his same tricks. “You fucking arsehole.”

He chuckled, swatting her with the spoon several more times.
Each blow landed somewhere different and with a varying amount of power. She
never knew what to expect as some were gentle taps, others painful slaps.

When his fingers returned to her weeping pussy, she pressed her
forehead against the table, seeking some coolness from the wood. Andrew leaned
over her as he continued to fuck her, his fingers driving inside her
relentlessly. Mercifully, he didn’t stop and Amy stiffened as an orgasm rumbled
through her body.

“Mother. Fuck. Shit. Bloody hell.” Every curse she’d ever
heard flew from her lips in a long stream as tremors shook her.

Andrew’s fingers stilled, though he kept them buried deep.
“Where’s my sister?” he whispered.

“Oz.”

She let the word hover in the air between them. It would be
up to him to decide if that was her answer or her retreat. He lay on top of her
for several long moments as she tried to catch her breath.

When Andrew rose, he placed a kiss in the middle of her
back. “Stay put.”

She wanted to laugh, but she didn’t have the energy. She
wasn’t going anywhere and he knew it. He’d fucked her boneless. Again.

She closed her eyes, listening to the pounding of her heart.
She was so replete and exhausted, she failed to hear Andrew when he returned to
the kitchen.

The sound of the condom package tearing caught her
attention. Her eyelids drifted open just as the head of his cock nudged against
her pussy, seeking entrance. She thought she was too done in to do much more
than simply go along for the ride. But she was mistaken. Andrew wasn’t content
to let her be the passive observer as he found his pleasure in her body. He’d
yet to allow her to be a wallflower at
his
party.

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