This Kiss. Debbi Rawlins
bed. “No, we don’t need one.”
“Uh, yeah, we do.” He never broke that rule.
“I changed my mind about the light.” She smiled and leaned down to give him a quick kiss and quite a view. “I think I want it off.”
Ethan had never met a woman who ran so hot and cold, and at the speed of sound on top of that. He’d ridden a hundred ornery bulls that had given him less trouble. Trouble being the keyword here. Maybe this—Sophie—was an omen he needed to take more seriously.
She kissed him again, lingering this time, using her tongue, while trailing her fingers down his chest. She traced a circle around his navel and then rested her hand on his buckle. “I’ll be right back.”
Jesus. “What now?”
“The light.”
Something else that was confusing. He knew she wasn’t shy, and she had a killer body. “How about we leave the one in the bathroom on with the door closed partway?”
She straightened, thought for a moment and then nodded. “I think that might work better, actually.”
Yep. She was a strange one, all right. But that nice round bottom of hers wasn’t easily dismissed. He watched her walk to the bathroom, flip on the light and angle the door just so.
“I doubt you’ll need the jacket,” he said.
She only smiled and moved to the wall switch that controlled the two lamps.
“Why don’t you get rid of those jeans while you’re up?” He’d take care of the bra, no problem.
“Okay. Good idea.” The room dimmed. “You take off yours, too.”
Ethan watched her approach while he unbuckled and unzipped. It was a little too dark for his taste. Once he finally got her naked, he wanted to see her. Staying right where he was, he lifted his ass and pushed down his jeans.
“Here, let me help.” She pulled them off his feet and flung the Wranglers at the chair.
He considered asking her to let a little more light into the room, but she dropped her jacket and climbed onto the bed. She got on her knees and steadied herself with a hand on his belly. And then threw a leg over his thighs and straddled him.
His cock seemed determined to test the resilience of his boxer briefs. “Your turn,” he said, reaching for her zipper.
With a throaty laugh, she shoved his hand away. “Not when I have you exactly where I want you.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his knuckles against her denim-covered crotch.
She gasped and squeezed her thighs together, only his hips were in the way. He already knew she was strong, but how she was gripping him...holy shit. Managing to move his trapped hand, he put more pressure on her crotch.
Sophie made a strangled sound. Shifting her body, she captured his hand. Intertwining her fingers with his, she pulled his arm up over his head as she leaned down to bite his lip. The aggressive move surprised him in a good way. With his free hand he unhooked her bra.
The left strap slid off her shoulder and bared her breast. He could see the rosy tip, though not as clearly as he wanted. The moment she realized what had happened, she released him. She leaned back, cursing, and trying to pull the bra up.
Like hell.
He slid his hand in before she could cover herself. And cupped her exposed breast, rubbing his thumb over the hard nipple while baring the other.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Don’t hide yourself.”
Closing her eyes, she arched slightly, filling his palm. He kneaded gently and she sighed, a soft breathy sound he wanted to hear again.
“No.” She shrank back.
“Please, Sophie. I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’ll make you feel better.”
“Stop,” she said, eyes wide but impossible to read in the dimness.
He immediately lowered his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”
An awkward silence fell between them. She hadn’t climbed off, so he figured that was a good sign. She also hadn’t fixed her bra, but he was afraid to so much as glance anywhere below her neck until he understood what had just happened. He’d never had a woman tell him no or to stop before. This was brand-new territory and he was at a complete loss on how to respond. Ego played no part here. If anything, he felt like shit.
“Whatever I did to upset you, I’m very sorry,” he said, resisting the urge to touch her, offer her comfort the only way he knew how. “I really am.”
“Don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s me, I shouldn’t have let— Oh, shit. I hate this.” She leaned over the side of the bed and reached for the jacket on the floor.
“Hate what?” He tried to do the honorable thing and not stare at her breasts. Apparently he had the willpower of a rutting bull, which he wasn’t proud of.
She pulled something out of the pocket and hid it behind her back before he dragged his attention away from her breasts. Cosmic justice, he figured.
He barely had time to blink before she was all over him again. Kissing him, playing the aggressor once more, forcing his arm over his head, her warm soft body pressed close, her hard nipples grazing his chest...the feel of cold metal...
The hard band closing around his wrist jerked him from his haze. He heard a click. Confusion still messed with his brain. Sophie drew back, staring down at him, breathing hard.
He looked at his wrist handcuffed to the bedpost.
Sophie was into that kind of stuff? He wasn’t, but he didn’t mind accommodating her.
“YOU COULD’VE JUST told me.” Ethan smiled. “This isn’t my thing, but I’ll play for a while,” he said, and touched her breast.
“Oh, brother.” She slapped his hand away, jerking back. For God’s sake, she’d forgotten she had no top on. “This isn’t a game, you idiot.” She climbed off, glanced around the room for her shirt. Finding it near the chair, she pulled the tee over her head.
“What the hell is going on?”
The wig got caught and shifted. Boy, was she glad to get rid of that stupid thing. No one had warned her it would itch like crazy. She grabbed a handful of the fake blond locks and yanked it off her head.
“Jesus. What the—”
Pulling pins from her own hair, she shook it loose from the tight bun and glanced at Ethan, lying against the cream-colored sheets, his muscled chest smooth, bare and tanned. A light smattering of dark hair swirled just below his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Oh no. No looking there for her.
“I know you,” he said, narrowing his gaze.
The light from the bathroom washed over his face, the tanned skin bringing out the blue of his eyes, as he studied her with an intensity that made her turn away. Did seeing her as a brunette trigger a memory? Doubtful. He’d barely noticed her after his grand gesture outside the cafeteria right in the middle of lunch period.
She walked into the bathroom and groaned at her image in the mirror. Well, of course her hair was plastered to her head and looking as unattractive as possible. He hadn’t been staring because he remembered her. She could’ve just stepped off the set of some horror movie.
Rubbing her itchy scalp, she bent at the waist and fluffed out her hair. She straightened to look in the mirror again, not expecting