Authors: Lori Foster
George moved beside her in the cramped space, and she heard a clink, like the dropping of change, then a small hum. Two seconds later, the booth lit up and a film played on the wall in front of them.
Becky stared. “This is a movie booth?”
“A place to see previews of the different videos before buying one.” George studied her, strangelyalert, as he waited for her reaction. “You pop in a quarter, pick the number of the film you’re interested in, and you get to see a few minutes of it.”
“My, um … what a good idea.”
Becky turned away from George’s scrutiny to watch the movie, and felt the increased acceleration of her heart. Fascination gripped her as the lights flickered and shifted. She saw a well-built man, dressed only in worn jeans, wander into a darkly lit room. The film was poor quality, gritty. But it still held her enthralled.
Beside her, George shifted again, moving behind her, watching the show over her head. He seemed to take up too much space in the small room, with his shoulders that were twice as wide as hers, his body big and solid and hard.
Tension tightened all her muscles, from the movie, from George’s nearness, from the rapid way things were progressing. Becky could smell him again, the delicious scent of cologne and hot male flesh.
The man on-screen moved into a room—where a woman was tied to a bed. Becky started in surprise. Why, this movie was about
bondage.
Had George chosen it on purpose?
The woman was atop the covers, completely naked. Her legs were held wide apart, secured to the foot posts on the bed with black cords. Her arms stretched out over her head and were also tied. She was vulnerable, fully exposed. She wore a blindfold, and as she sensed the man’s approach, she moaned softly.
Unable to look away, Becky drew a strangled breath—and felt her back touch George’s chest.
She started to jerk forward again, but he settled his hands at either side of her throat, keeping her in place.
“Shhh. If you make too much noise,” he said close to her ear, “they’ll know we’re in here.”
Shaken by the touch of his warm breath in her ear, Becky whispered, “Who?”
“The guys from the factory.”
“Oh.” That’s right. The reason he’d led her into this booth in the first place was to avoid detection by others. “Thank you.”
The man in the movie knelt on the bed beside the naked woman. She squirmed, a little frantic, her bare breasts jiggling with her efforts, rising and falling, but the ropes held her tightly. She couldn’t move more than an inch.
She couldn’t move away from him.
The man trailed his fingertips over her arm, up and down, over her ribs, making the woman twist and moan some more. Slowly, very slowly, he cupped her breast and gently squeezed. Becky’s own breasts tingled, her nipples pulled tight.
George leaned down and this time his warm breath teased her temple. He spoke in a drawing whisper that made her eyelids feel heavy, her insides warm and liquid. “You ever watch a dirty movie, Becky?”
She could barely speak, didn’t dare blink. She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the movie so she wouldn’t miss a thing.
George’s fingers caressed her shoulders, subtly, with encouragement. “I know women,” he whispered, “and you, Becky Harte, like this particular film.”
Was she really so obvious? Did she even care?
“I
…” I want to do that to you.
Becky knew she couldn’t say that, so she said nothing.
“Some people are turned on by dominating, some by being dominated.”
Becky swallowed hard. “He won’t hurt her?”
“Of course not. That has nothing to do with bondage, or with pleasure.”
George spoke with confidence, making Becky wonder if he had firsthand knowledge of this. “I … I see.”
The man began kissing the woman. His mouth touched her nipples, first softly, then sucking until she cried out. He rasped her with his thumbs, and laughed when she tried to escape him. He kissed her again, licking everywhere, her throat, over her breasts, down her stomach … between her legs.
The woman jumped.
So did Becky.
“Shhh,” George murmured, making Becky shiver in reaction.
The woman arched, but her movements were limited because of her restraints. She cried out, bucked, and bowed but the man stayed with her, his mouth on her, against her sex, his hands holding her hips steady, and seconds later she found her release in a long raw groan that had Becky catching her breath and shaking uncontrollably.
“Becky?”
Feeling almost feverish, Becky wavered, and found herself flush against George’s body.
George had an erection.
On-screen, the woman moaned in soft acceptance. Inside the booth, Becky did the same. She could feel George, long and hard, firmly pressed against her behind. It was a first for her.
Everything today was a first.
“Watch,” George insisted, and Becky could have sworn she felt his mouth touch the rim of her ear. She all but melted into a puddle.
Since she couldn’t seem to draw her attention away from the film, George’s instruction was unnecessary.
From one frame to the next, the setting of the film changed, and now the woman sat astride the man, while it was his arms stretched high and tight, tied to the bedposts. His head was tipped back, his chest muscles starkly defined as the woman rode him hard and fast.
Becky breathed too hard in reaction. This was what she wanted. Oh, she wanted it so much. The man in the movie wasn’t blindfolded, and he wasn’t nearly as appealing as George. But Becky could pretend he was. She could pretend that he’d take his pleasure with her, and not be able to see her, not be able to touch her.
Suddenly the woman’s mouth opened on a scream and Becky knew it was a scream of pure excitement. The woman shuddered, climaxed … and Becky felt George’s hand slip around her to settle beneath her left breast. His fingers were hot, long, curving on her rib cage. His hair brushed her cheek, cool and silky. His heart rapped against her back.
Awareness and need held Becky perfectly still so George wouldn’t stop touching her.
“Your heart is racing, Becky.”
This time she knew for certain his mouth touched her. He placed a gentle kiss on her temple—and the film died.
Neither of them moved. The sound of herbreathing filled the small booth. Becky had no idea what to do or what to say, so she did nothing. George’s big hand was still on her, beneath her coat, right below her breast, not moving, just resting there, warm and sure and confident.
“I think I know what section you were looking for, Becky.”
In that moment, more than anything, Becky wanted him to touch her breast. It was insane, but she craved his touch. “You … you do?”
“Oh yeah. You want some restraints, don’t you, sweetheart?”
He’d called her sweetheart. “Um …” Should she just blurt it out? How did a woman go about telling a man she’d like to tie him to her bed? And she did want to do that.
With George.
Becky was now very glad she’d run into him, and not some other man. This small incident felt right in a way she knew it wouldn’t have been with anyone else. She’d been wanting George for a long time, so now was her chance.
It was possible that he’d chosen that particular film because he was into bondage, and wanted her to know it. Becky found it hard to imagine that George—sexy, gorgeous, experienced George—would be willing to leave himself at her mercy. But the idea was a very tempting one.
The pros and cons of having sex with a man she worked with winged through her head in rapid order. But before she could find the right thing to say, George moved the curtain aside. “C’mon. I’ll help you.”
Again, Becky found herself being led by him. He drew her to the back of the store toward another isolated room. Along the way, Becky looked around at all the amazing contraptions. One particular item caught her interest and she turned her head to stare.
Beside her, George paused. With his dark gaze on her face, he said, “It’s for female pleasure. Most of the stuff in here is geared for women.”
“Really?”
At her surprise, George narrowed his eyes. “It’s not always as easy for a woman to climax as it is for a man.”
He spoke so casually that Becky blinked, still looking at the small contraption and trying to figure it out. There were so many things in the shop that seemed to require an instruction manual. “I see.”
“Do you?” When she didn’t answer, he expounded on his explanations. “Just having a man inside a woman doesn’t always do it for her. She needs to be touched other ways, other places.”
Becky opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tilted her head, studying the ridiculous device, but still it didn’t quite make sense how it would work.
George made an impatient sound. “You can’t be that naive.”
Becky turned to stare up at him.
He ran a hand over his head, further mussing his hair. Then, to her horror, he snatched up the device and held it in front of her. “See this opening? It fits over a man’s cock. When he rides a woman, this part right here strokes her where she’s most sensitive. Because it vibrates, if he goes deep inside and just holds still, it’ll work too.”
Becky was floored by this outpouring of sexualinstruction. George didn’t seem the least bit shy about discussing things with her. It was astonishing and embarrassing and very educational.
She wasn’t sure if she should thank him or not.
When she remained silent, he frowned. “Becky, do you understand?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“You think so?”
Her curiosity overrode her shyness. “Have you ever …? You know.”
“What?” He waved the thing under her nose, then tossed it back on the shelf. “Worn one of those? No way. I don’t need them.” He looked at her mouth and his dark eyes glittered. “Any man worth his salt knows how to make a woman come without all these gizmos.”
Ohmigosh, ohmigosh.
Becky gulped. Would he illustrate that for her, too? She sort of hoped so.
His gaze moved down her body, to her lap. “Remember the guy in the video? There are better ways to ensure a woman’s satisfaction.”
There it was, his explanation and that look that felt like a physical touch, given with his blatant suggestion that he enjoyed kissing a woman …
there,
and Becky’s knees went weak. She caught the shelf for support, refusing to crumble in front of him, even over the idea of oral sex.
Trying to sound as cavalier as George, she changed the subject. “It was designed by a doctor.”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
“Wouldn’t you think most doctors had medical emergencies or something to occupy their time?”
This time George laughed outright. “Amazing.”
“What’s amazing?”
He didn’t explain, he just took her hand andfinished leading her to the other room. Becky looked around in awe. Velvet-lined handcuffs, dark blindfolds, satin ropes and restraints of every style and extreme decorated the walls, some even hanging from the ceiling. “Oh my.”
George crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you bring your charge card?”
“No.” She didn’t want any legal documentation from her trip here. “But I brought plenty of cash.”
Looking very pleased, George said, “Then allow me to guide you through a few purchases. And, Becky?”
“Hmm?”
“When we’re through, we’ll set a date to get together.”
Becky whipped around to face him. “A date?”
“Oh yeah.” He touched her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You see, Becky, we’re of a similar mind. And I think we’ll get along real well, don’t you?”
George watched that intriguing color darken Becky Harte’s soft cheeks again. God, but he loved the way the woman blushed. Since he was still touching her, he even felt the heat Would she flush all over like that when he had her securely bound to his bed, naked and hungry and waiting for him to give her a screaming orgasm?
He had a feeling she would, and he could hardly wait.
What a little fraud she was. He’d worked at the factory as a supervisor for two years now. In that time, he’d gotten to know Becky well. Or so he’d thought. She was very young—too young he’d sometimes thought And though at twenty-five she should have had her share of experience, Becky still had “sweet and innocent” stamped all over her in a way that made a man’s primal instincts go on red-hot alert.
From her big blue eyes, to her bouncing blond curls, to her sweet small-town accent, she exuded artless naïveté. She was the type of woman who—he’d thought—would want to get married if she got intimate with a man.
Still, he thought of her nearly every day, and wanted her more often than that. At work, he couldn’t help stopping to chat with her whenever possible. She was so sweet, so open, damn near every man at the factory felt drawn to her, himself included. But Becky never seemed to notice.
And she never seemed to want male attention.
She’d certainly turned him down. She hadn’t been rude or inconsiderate about it, but rather she’d feigned misunderstanding. He’d tease, and she’d give him a blank look, then call him Mr. Westin in a way that made it clear she considered him a supervisor, a casual work friend, and nothing more.
In many ways, her youth, her fresh-faced candor, and her disinterest had made her more appealing, to the point he nearly felt obsessed with her. Of course, her body had helped in that, too.
He absolutely burned with the need to see beneath her conservative clothes.
Her long skirts and buttoned-up blouses couldn’t quite disguise a sweetly rounded figure ripe with curves. The way she tried to conceal herself only made his imagination go wild. More often than was wise, he’d fantasized about getting her into bed.
And now he knew the truth. Sweet, innocent Becky wasn’t into marriage. No, she was into bondage. She wanted to be tied down, she wanted to be vulnerable. She wanted to be at a man’s mercy.
Yet she still blushed, and she honestly seemed to be clueless about things sexual in nature.
What an intriguing conflict.
Becky Harte wanted to be dominated—and George was just the man to accommodate her. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let any other guy do it.
With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Becky turned away from him to study the wall of blindfolds. George studied her ass.
He could hardly wait to get his hands on her.
Today she wore a beige denim skirt that hung clear to her ankles, but he could see that her feet were small, her ankles trim. Her bulky coat over a loose thick sweater hid her waistline, but couldn’t hide the thrust of her full breasts.
George’s palm tingled as he remembered slipping his hand beneath her coat to feel her heartbeat. She’d trembled gently, her heart thumping hard and fast, her breast a warm firm weight against the back of his hand.
He’d wanted to slide his fingers higher and cup her breast. He’d wanted to stroke her nipple until he felt it puckering tight.
She’d wanted the same.
But not teasing her now would get him further later, so George had controlled himself, and in the process, he’d controlled her, though she might not have realized it. All in all, sexual preferences aside, he was experienced enough to know that she was innocent, and that delightful mix of timidity and hot sensuality had him hard and more than ready.
And here he’d considered Cuther, Indiana, a dull place. He grinned. With Becky Harte wandering loose, there was nothing dull about it. Since first meeting her, he’d wanted her. Against his better judgment and her apparent disinterest, he’d wanted her.
Now he’d finally have her.
George watched her pick up and examine a black velvet blindfold with shaking fingers. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, then lifted her chin, tucked the box under her arm, and moved on to the handcuffs.
His thoughts mired in carnal speculation, George followed.
If she wanted to wear a blindfold, that was fine and dandy with him. He liked her big blue eyes, but it was her body he was dying to see.
Maybe it would help her to hide, to not see what he was seeing. He realized now that much of her past reticence was due to inexperience. Her shock at the items sold in Wild Honey had proven that.
Or maybe she liked the idea of being blindfolded because she thought it would heighten the sense of touch and anticipation. Maybe it would feed her need to be controlled. George shrugged. He would happily oblige her.
He’d leave her wanting more.
When Cameron, another supervisor at the factory, had first approached him with this bizarre plan, George had been skeptical. He assumed Cameron had seen his lust for Becky, and was pulling a joke on him.
Cameron was due to marry Becky’s friend, Asia, and he’d claimed the women had some goofy dare going that was centered around the porn shop. Cameron had refused to reveal the details behind his and Asia’s circumstances, but he had explained that it was Becky’s turn, and Asia wanted to make sure Becky wasn’t hurt.
George wanted to make sure, too.
Both Cameron and Asia thought that by ensuring Becky’s partner—him—they could protect her from other, more unscrupulous men. Smart. The thought of Becky going off with anyone else set George on edge.
She’d been unattainable, a fantasy, for too long. Now that he was part of this plan, he’d already begun to think of her in his bed, already begun to imagine all the carnal fun he’d give her. Until she indulged his craving for her, he damn sure didn’t want any other man touching her.
After they were through … well, he just didn’t know, didn’t want to think about that right now. The idea of Becky getting down and dirty with anyone else felt repugnant.
Cameron had told George that if he was willing—ha—he was to meet Becky at the shop and show an interest in bondage wares. That had nearly floored him, but Cameron, damn him, had been so blasé about the whole thing, George had refused to show his shock.
Becky Harte and bondage—a combination guaranteed to give any guy a steel boner.
Now he was beyond glad he’d taken up the challenge. Bondage wasn’t something he’d explored much in the past, but hey, if that’s what it took to finally get Becky into bed, he was willing, able, and ready. Actually, now that he’d thought about it—and he hadn’t been able to think about much else—having Becky tied to his bed appealed to him in a dozen different ways.
There’s so much to choose from.”
George watched the expressions flicker across her face when he asked, “Do you want it rough or gentle?”
Her eyes widened comically before she gathered herself.She cleared her throat and made a point of not looking at him.“I don’t think the idea is for anyone to be roughed up, do you?”
That was a relief. He wasn’t into manhandling women at all. Just the opposite. Once he had Becky bound, he’d worship her body until she cried with the pleasure of it. He could hardly wait.
“How about the velvet cuffs? They close with Velero, so they’ll be quick and easy to use.” And he’d have her snared before she even knew what he was doing.
His cock throbbed with that thought and the accompanying image of Becky spread-eagle, naked atop his mattress, taut, trembling, waiting for what he’d do to her.
Her chin lifted. “Good idea.” She snagged up the box and held it.
“Why don’t you let me carry those for you?”
Face averted, Becky thrust her packages at him. “Thank you.”
With every second that passed, George got more turned on, more eager. He rubbed his chin and thought about everything he wanted to do to her. He eyed her legs, then made another suggestion. “There are ankle cuffs too.”
She wore a considering frown. “Do you think they’re necessary?”
Oh yeah. “That’s up to you.”
“Yes, of course.” She bit her lip, snagged up the package, and tossed it at him.
“Anything else?”
“Like what?”
Her determination was adorable. “I don’t know. It’s your show, Becky. You tell me.”
That startled her, then she beamed. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” She looked around, her brow puckered in a frown, then shook her head. “No, I think that’s it for now.”
“Becky?”
She peeked up at him.
“Do you want me to pay for these?”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Would you?” She dug in her purse and pulled out several bills. “I have to admit, the idea of getting caught at the register doesn’t exactly thrill me.”
George didn’t take the money. She’d be fulfilling a two-year long fantasy for him, so letting her pay didn’t seem right. “This’ll be my treat.”
His offer stiffened her spine. “Oh no, it’s my expense.”
Seeing that she wouldn’t change her mind, George shrugged. “All right then.”
“But aren’t you going to buy anything?”
He’d already given due thought to his own purchase. “Yeah, I think I’ll get the video we watched. We only saw a small portion of it. Wouldn’t you like to see the rest?”
Becky flushed. “If you’ll watch it with me.”
“Absolutely.” He’d watch her watching it. Seeing the fascination on her face was better than anything on-screen.
Her breath came fast. “When?”
George could see she was anxious, which fed his own urgency. “Friday night?”
It took her a moment before she screwed up her courage. “All right, yes. You can come to my place. I’ll order a pizza if that’s okay.”
He’d rather have her in his house, on his ground. But it wasn’t worth debating the issue. “Do you have a VCR?”
She bobbed her head. “Yes.”
They’d watch the movie, then get those restraints out of the box and break them in proper. God, he could hardly wait. Though today was Thursday, it felt like Friday was more than a month away.
George forced a smile. “Six o’clock?” They both got off work at five, so that’d give her an hour to get home and get ready for him.
“All right.”
By silent agreement, they started making their way to the register. Becky kept watch for other customers, and when they neared the front of the store, George took pity on her and told her to wait out front for him. She smiled and quickly ducked through the door.
When he joined her minutes later, he caught her waving to the factory. He looked up, but saw no one. “Your friends?”
She yelped and whirled to face him. “What? Oh, yes. I think I saw … uh … Erica.”
“Erica Lee?”
“Yes.” Becky frowned in suspicion. “Do you know her?”
He knew both Erica and Asia, mostly because Becky hung out with them every day during breaks and lunch. “Just in passing.”
“Erica’s dated nearly every guy at the factory.” She glanced up at him, then away. “You’ve never been out with her though.”
“Nope.” Erica Lee was a pushy broad, demanding and too damn independent. She epitomized what many men termed a ball buster. She was sexy, no doubt about that, but he liked gender women.
He liked Becky.
They walked across the street to the parking lot for the factory. When they reached Becky’s car, George handed her the bag. She took it, smiled up at him, and said, “Thank you.”
His gaze settled on her mouth. Damn it, he couldn’t wait another second. For two years he’d wondered what it would be like to kiss her, how she’d taste, how she’d fit against his body. “Friday is too damn many hours away.”
Becky gave him a look of confusion.
“I’m going to kiss you, Becky.”
Her eyes widened and she stumbled back a step. “You are?”
“It’ll be all right,” he murmured, leaning down slowly so he wouldn’t startle her. “Consider it a small prelude to tomorrow night, all right?”
Her lips parted. “But …”
He cupped her nape, turned her face up to his. Her blond hair was as soft as he’d always imagined. It felt warm against the back of his hand. “Just one kiss, Becky.”
Her eyes drifted shut. “Yes.”
She had one of the prettiest mouths George had ever seen, soft and full, always ready to smile. She never wore lipstick, but that was fine by him. He loved the way her naked mouth looked.
The moment his mouth settled on hers, he realized she tasted wonderful as well. She was breathing too hard and fast, as if she’d never been kissed before, but George decided it was anticipation that had her nearly panting. He understood that, because he wanted her so badly right now, he felt near to exploding.
Her bag dropped to the ground with a thump.
One of her hands touched his chest, fisted in his coat. The other curled over his biceps.
George slipped an arm around her waist, pulled her up close against his body, and sank his tongue deep with a groan. Her mouth wasn’t only pretty, it was delicious, too. Sweet.
And damn, she was hot.
She went on tiptoe and kissed him back, awkwardly at first, but with enthusiasm. She stroked his tongue with her own, even sucked at his tongue a bit.
It was a caress guaranteed to make him nuts.
He wasn’t just kissing a woman, he was kissing Becky. And she was wild for him.
Finding himself overwhelmed with rioting sensation for the first time in ages, George hugged Becky closer until their bodies pressed from knees to chest, until he could feel the wild beat of her heart and the gentle cushion of her belly. He wanted to absorb her. He wanted to take her right here, right now.
Lost in the sensuality of the moment, he drifted his hand down to that curving bottom of hers. She was a sexy handful and Friday night she’d be his.
Her ragged moan brought him to his senses. George lifted his head and looked around. Thankfully the lot was empty, but it was still a public lot, still out in the open and visible to anyone driving by or coming in or out of the building. Cold wind blasted his face and tossed Becky’s hair, but it had little effect on his lust. He teetered on the ragged edge and knew it. “Jesus.”