Pulse: BBW Contemporary Rock Star Romance Read Free Page B

to draw wet rings on the coffee table. Once again the two were in a tangle, tops off and pelvises thrusting, hot breath dancing in a cloud between their faces. There was barely a moment amidst the action for either to look at the other. Alyssa's hand had unbuckled Callum's belt and she dug in his pants for him, and he did the same. Suddenly he stood, collecting her up in his arms and carrying her through the archway into the bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed and walked towards her on all fours with an up-to-no-good grin on his face.
    He dragged her skirt down over her thin, lengthy legs. His eyes stared wild with desire at what lay between them.
    “Hold on,” she said.
    “What?”
    She pulled her feet up beneath her so that her knees were level with her chin. “I'm not just a regular fuck,” she said, “I like things a little more…spicy.”
    Callum chuckled to himself. He looked down at the bed beneath him, then back up to meet her eyes. “Oh yeah?”
    Alyssa nodded fast, her eyes little girl on Christmas. She stood up off the bed and gently guided him down so he was sitting up against the headboard with a smile like a boy with a new present. Reaching into her bag, she took a pair of handcuffs and a whip, then laid on the bed beside him.
    “Oh,” he said in a tone like caramel, “So you are kinky, aren't you? What a naughty little minx.”
    Gliding her breasts against his face, him breathing in the sweet salt of her skin's sweat, she looped the handcuffs under a gap in the top of the bedframe and clicked them shut over his wrists. He became instantly hard, barely able to control spontaneous thrusts of his hips as he stared at her lustfully.
    “Are you ready?” she said in a breathy voice. He nodded with villainous eyebrows.
    “Hold on,” she said again. Alyssa left the room and returned with her phone in hand. She opened the camera function and began to snap photographs of the arrested rock-star, each one more devastating and unflattering than the last.
    “What the fuck?” he growled, kicking and tugging, struggling to free himself from the restraints.
    But he struggled to no avail. In under a minute, she had captured more than a thousand emasculating photographs. While he lay there, trapped, she swiped through them, satisfied by what she saw.
    “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Callum asked.
    “You're a rich man,” she said, “I'm a less-than-rich woman.” Alyssa crawled up to him, on all fours as he had her, sucking and biting at his neck. He tried to push his body away, furious with a very different heat. “I thought we could do a trade,” she whispered.
    “You're a fucking psycho!”
    She chuckled to herself, sitting up straight. “It's easy, painless. You give me money, and I delete the photographs.” Callum searched for words but found none. He stared at her in shock, in horror. Alyssa slid off of the bed and put her clothes back on. She placed a scrap of paper down on the bed. “My phone number,” she explained, “For when you're ready to bargain.”
    He yelled expletives and struggled against his bonds, cursing her as she moved now fully clothed towards the front door. But then she stopped and turned to the man tied on the bed. She looked at the poor creature tied to the bed and still felt that hotness for him she did when she was younger. Think about it, Alyssa told herself. This is a man you can make love with, the hottest guy you ever have seen in real life. Why blackmail him? He was just too beautiful, too perfect, too sweet—underneath his bad decisions. She walked over to the bed, as he looked up at her from his furrowed brow. She ran her hands over his head, her fingers tracing a line through the soft down of his black hair.
    “You're so beautiful, Callum.” He just stared at her, a possessed doll who still after all wanted some love. “Why do you have to be so mean?”
    “I'm not mean,” he said. “Just drunk.”
    She sat down on the bed, running her eyes