Naughty List Read Free Page A

mattress. The room’s cold air enveloped her, forcing shivers down her spine. Just her luck that tonight she’d worn her skimpiest pajamas.
    Stepping to the door, careful to make as little noise as possible, Callie picked up the old-fashioned wooden baseball bat she hid beneath her bed. The bat had been a gift from Josh for their last anniversary. It was a horrible romantic gesture, but served a practical purpose.
    She cracked the door ajar, searching the dark living room before she jerked it open the rest of the way. The urge to react or forever be sorry billowed through Callie, forcing her to step forward. The plushy rug made no noise beneath her bare feet. Moonlight streamed in from the windows, creating sparkles along the floor as it glinted off her elaborately decorated Christmas tree.
    She cocked the bat high, ready to strike for a home run if the culprit got close. But the room was heavy with silence. The thief was still there, hidden in the dark, but he made no noise. No clomping booted steps rang in the silence, no rustle of clothing or sack of goodies filled with her valuables.
    Her resolve faltered, doubt creeping in and distracting her enough that the bat dipped in her hand. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything at all. Maybe it was all in her head. A breath whispered across her neck as two large hands clamped around her shoulders, pulling her quickly into a warm body. Soft velour brushed against her back, fluffy edging tantalizing her along the slope of her ass. Thick patent leather rubbed her legs, smooth and cool against her calves.
    Callie tried to scream, to breathe, but her lungs froze in fear, each inhale a battle. She’d never been in any kind of dangerous situation before, coming from one suburb to teach at another, and she found herself woefully unprepared for such an attack.
    “Ho, ho, ho.” A voice, deep and strangely familiar, echoed inches behind her ear.
    Her survival instinct kicking in, Callie swung the bat aimlessly, hoping to assault the handsy home invader. Instead, the solid wood slipped from her fingers, skittering across the floor, coming to a stop with a resounding whack against a sofa leg. Callie’s heart sank. Her weapon was too far away to retrieve, leaving her only remaining defense the strength of her body and the accuracy of her nails.
    “Merry Christmas,” the voice whispered, husky and seductive. His words were commonplace, but nothing else was, not his actions nor the suggestive tone he used.
    Callie kicked back against the home invader, hoping to make contact with any sensitive part of him to inflict maximum pain. “Take whatever you want,” Callie raged into the night, “just leave me alone.”
    “All I want is you,” her robber whispered, making her blood run cold. What did he want with her? What did all men want from women whose houses they stole into in the middle of the night? Callie fought harder, kicking with more force, clawing at the hands holding her.
    Yet the familiarity still tugged at her mind, confusing her struggle. A recognizable scent surrounded her. Not an artificial aftershave or cologne, but a natural, raw, male smell she’d been surrounded by before.
    “Don’t you want your present?” the man asked, his hands massaging her shoulders, resistant to her fight. “Or are you going to forfeit the bet now?”
    Callie stopped. The familiarity snapped into place, illuminating her mind in the dark night. “Eric?”
    Quick and unexpected, fastenings wrapped around her, holding her forearms tight to her hips like a good tin soldier. The restraint was soft yet strong, like velvet ribbon. She pulled her arms, twisting to free herself, the ties burning her skin against the attempt.
    “Not tonight, little girl.” The velvet tightened farther. His arms folded around her as more ribbon slid along her body. The edges pressed into her while the rest of the restraint softly stimulated her skin.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked the darkened room, trying to