The Best of Kay Jaybee Read Free Page B

hour.
    Having been invited by Claire for a girlie chat and sleepover, Ali was incensed that Rick had crashed their private party before it had even got started. It doesn’t help, Ali thought, as she gave up trying to drown out the muted sounds from the neighbouring room with her pillow, that I’ve had the serious hots for my best friend’s partner for months now.
    Escaping to the bathroom, Ali took her time getting showered and dressed. She was surprised to find that when she headed into the kitchen 20 minutes later, Claire was already there, fully dressed, and slipping on her coat and shoes.
    â€˜I’m popping out to grab some stuff for breakfast. Could you be an angel and take Rick a coffee in bed?’
    Without giving Ali time to reply, Claire disappeared into the early morning drizzle, leaving her friend with her palm frozen on top of the kettle. The last thing she needed was to see Rick all relaxed and rumpled from sex in someone else’s bed.
    Rather than sorting the coffee, Ali left the kitchen and banged hard on Claire’s bedroom door, ‘The coffee will be in the kitchen, Rick.’
    Ali hadn’t expected much more than a grunted reply. After all, Rick wasn’t one of life’s communicators. Even Claire agreed that he was only really useful for sex and unscrewing particularly tight jar lids. Yet the silence from beyond the door was almost eerie. There should have at least been the muffled noises of him shuffling about the bed, or moving around the room hunting down his socks.
    A ripple of uncertainty shot through Ali as she stood there. Claire had told her to take the coffee in to him, and now she thought about it the request had been rather definite. Almost an order. With a final call of, ‘Rick! Do you want coffee?’ Ali inched the door ajar as she repeated her knock.
    The reason for Rick’s lack of response was immediately apparent. Ali’s mouth slammed shut. She didn’t know where to look first. All she could think, as she hovered immobilised in the doorway, her eyes roaming with pussy-clenching leisure over Rick’s tied frame, was that Claire had intended her to find him like this. She evidently had more in common with her friend than she’d previously thought.
    Rick was standing, side on, to the end of the bed; his legs positioned about half a metre apart. A solid metal shackle, fastened to the leg of the bed frame, surrounded and connected each ankle. He was effectively pinioned to the spot.
    His arms were secured behind his back with a pair of leather cuffs and his dangerous brown eyes were hidden beneath a heavily padded strip of black material, which also covered his ears. Ali realised that he hadn’t even heard her calls. And even if he had been able to hear her, the hard ball gag wedged between his teeth would have prevented him from responding.
    With heart-pounding disbelief, almost on tiptoe, Ali walked towards the man who haunted her dreams, not sure whether to visit his front or back view first. She opted for his rear.
    Her surprise at finding Rick bound and helpless paled into insignificance compared to the shock of what her emerald green eyes spied as she observed his tight arse. On the right buttock, tattooed in tiny neat red script, were the words, If I don’t obey my mistress, I will suffer.
    The evidence of this suffering was obvious. Across his butt cheeks and the tops of his legs, old welds and bruises littered his skin. An image of Claire bedecked in black leather entered her mind. It wasn’t difficult to picture her whipping her lover for a whole host of unknown crimes.
    Reaching out a hand, Ali held it in front of his scarred flesh. Her damp-knickered desire was at odds with the fact she was about to touch her friend’s lover. Yet, Claire had set this up. The more Ali thought about it, the more she knew it was OK, and the idea that Rick might not know it was her, only increased her body’s nervous frisson.