Whipped Read Free

did she. Nothing super dark, but a little slap and tickle for sure.
    “Um…” She took a sip of her drink and shuddered as the harsh bite of liquor burned through her. It clashed with the flavor of her gum. “What kind of kink are we talking about?”
    He strode to his suitcase and fished around, pulling out a long leather strap with two loops on the ends. Her eyes fixated on it. She gulped.
    “I want to tie you up,” he said, his voice low, taunting, as though he expected her to squeak like a mouse and scuttle from the room.
    The. Fuck.
    “Hmm. I think I can handle that.”
    “I’ll probably smack your bottom.”
    Also good. She tried not to flinch in anticipation. His hand on her ass? Gawd.
    “I won’t hurt you, though. I’m not into that. And of course, I’ll use protection.” He held up a pack of condoms.
    Well da-ham . He’d come prepared. A smile curled on her lips.
    “Billy said your fee’s been paid.” His brow quirked.
    The smile froze on Tina’s face. A combination of horror and rage and something else altogether snarled through her as she realized how right she’d been. Not only did he not recognize her—after knowing her her entire life, for pity sake—he thought she was a hooker .
    Granted, she did kind of look like a hooker, with makeup plastered on as if with a trowel. But still…
    She glanced at him from beneath the impossibly long lashes The Master had glued to her lids. Not her style, but she liked the way they looked. The way they made her feel…like someone else. Someone sultry and daring. Someone Dane would want.
    To tie up and spank.
    Aside from that, the temptation to have him, taste him, fuck him, ran rampant in her. For years she’d fantasized about her older brother’s best friend. All through puberty and long after that. Every man she’d met, dated or been with had been gauged against Dane Coulter. None of them had measured up.
    Ah yes, the temptation to have him was overwhelming.
    Not to mention how much fun it would be watching him shit a brick tomorrow, when he realized who she really was.
    Too delicious to pass up, really. The whole package.
    He stood there in the middle of the room, holding the strap in one hand and the condoms in the other, waiting for her reply. Though he was all Dom, she couldn’t help but notice a hint of tension in him, as though he was, on some level, afraid she’d say no and waltz away.
    He wanted her. And he wanted her bad . It was the heat in his eyes that gave him away, the way they flicked over her and burned with hunger. Yeah. Irresistible.
    Sure. She could be a hooker for the evening.
    “Anything else?” she purred, ignoring his unasked question.
    The tightness in his expression released. “No. That’s it. Anything from your end?”
    “Just enjoy, baby,” she said, tossing back the rest of her drink and setting the glass on the table. She sashayed over to his side and tugged his tight black tee shirt from the band of his jeans. She wanted him out of it. She wanted to see his chest. She wanted him naked.
    He grabbed her wrist in a gentle cuff. “No,” he said.
    She peeped up at him. His chin was firm and bristled with enticing scruff. A muscle worked in his cheek. “No?” She went for a playful tone.
    He glared her down. “I don’t think you understand. I direct the action. Do you understand my meaning?”
    Oh God. Did she.
    She’d played games like this with boys before, but never had she experienced such dominant energy. She let her hand fall to her side. Lowered her chin in what she hoped was a submissive mien—she really didn’t do submissive well, and never had. “Yes.”
    “Yes…what?”
    “Yes, I understand.”
    He broke character for a moment, rolling his eyes. “How long have you been doing this?” he asked, but it was, apparently a rhetorical question, because he barreled right on. “The correct response is ‘Yes Sir.’”
    “Oh. Right.” She shot him an impish grin. “Yes Sir.”
    “And— What’s