He could almost see the thoughts scrambling through her mind. She was afraid, mad, embarrassed…It was the fear that ate at him.
As if she’d read his thoughts, she said, “You told me I didn’t have to be afraid of you.”
George stared at the tears glistening in her beautiful blue eyes and felt his heart breaking. Damn, somehow his good old-fashioned, straightforward lust had morphed into something much more complicated. “That’s right.”
Her lips quivered, her chin quivered. “But you’re scaring me now.”
“Why?” He rubbed the soft skin beneath her chin, hoping to soothe her. A riot of feelings bombarded him. She was all but naked and tied open beneath him, so lust was there, demanding attention. He hadn’t realized quite how much he’d like the bondage stuff, but he had to admit it was an enormous turn-on.
Those deeper emotions were there, too, making him soft in the head, turning his muscles to soup. And the damn tenderness, choking him, making his own eyes damp—he wanted to cradle her close and tell her everything would be okay. But he didn’t even know what the problem was yet.
“I won’t hurt you, Becky.”
She turned her head away until her nose was pressed deep into the lace-edged pillow. George smoothed her hair. He loved her hair.
Shit, he loved her.
No woman had ever plagued him the way she did. No woman had ever turned him on, turned him inside out, and made him generally nuts the way she did.
And right now, she was afraid of him.
To ease the way, he stalled for time. “I’m sorry to subject you to this, but now comes the ickier part.”
Her brows drew together and she glanced his way. “Ickier part?”
“Disposing of the condom.” He sat up beside her on the bed. He made such an indent in the mattress, her hips rolled toward him. George grinned, grabbed several tissues from the nightstand and peeled the condom off.
Becky watched in fascination. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Really?” At least she wasn’t crying now. She was such an inquisitive little ex-virgin. “And you had this all planned so well.”
She snorted. “Obviously not well enough.” A hard tug on the restraints proved her point.
George dropped the condom into the bedside waste can. “You have more rubbers on hand?”
She sniffed, sounding very put out but also curious as to what he intended to do. She bobbed her head. “I bought a whole box. They’re in the drawer.”
“I like a woman who thinks positive.” George retrieved a few more of the little silver packets—and noticed the wooden ruler in the drawer. “Ah, what’s this?”
“What?”
George lifted it out, pleased that she had started to relax enough to converse. He waved it under her nose. “Planned to do your own calculations, did you?”
“Yes.” She glared at him and her face was hot. “Before you ruined everything.”
George dropped the ruler and rubbers on the top of the nightstand. He turned and rested his hand on her belly. “Ruined things how, babe?”
For long moments, she simply stared at him, utter defeat clouding her gaze.
“Come on, Becky,” he encouraged, knowing he couldn’t pull back now. “Explain it to me. Maybe things’ll turn out way different than you expect.”
“I don’t want you—any man—to see me.”
That totally took George off guard. He wasn’t at all sure what he’d been expecting, but modesty over her body? It didn’t make sense. He glanced at her sprawled form, which looked beyond delectable even in the dark shadows. Thank God for the night light or he wouldn’t have been able to see her at all.
Her long skirt was twisted around her legs, her ankle socks were bunched, but the rest of her…well, she was naked.
She was his.
“Why the hell not?” Her pale breasts and belly showed up just fine. “You’re beautiful.”
“No.” She shook her head, mussing her hair once more. For a woman who starched her pillowcases, she sure had a problem keeping her hair in order. “I don’t…don’t look how you probably think I look.”
“Is that right?” George cupped her breasts. Even now, when she was frantic to get away from him, her nipples stiffened under his touch and her heartbeat lurched.
“Let’s see,” he murmured, while playing with her pretty breasts. “These are real, not enhanced. A gift from Mother Nature, and they look even better than I’d imagined.”
“George! I didn’t mean that.”
He slid his hand to her waist—and felt her stiffen. “No girdle,” he said, watching her closely. “You’re not bone skinny, but your curves are all perfect.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
George moved his palm lower, over her hip and then under her to cup one round cheek through the corduroy of her skirt. “There sure as hell isn’t anything fake about this great ass. So that leaves, what? Your belly button? Do you have two? An outie, maybe? Hell, Becky, I like outies. No? That’s not it?”
“No.”
He’d never heard so much misery in one word. George stroked her right thigh through the skirt—and heard her catch her breath against a cry. He knew he hadn’t hurt her, so that had to mean her embarrassment was over her legs. But why? She did always wear long skirts, and even now, when they were in bed together, she had her legs covered. He frowned in suspicion.
Whatever bothered her, it wasn’t going to be easy to convince her that he didn’t give a damn.
He decided it was best to bypass that topic for now, and instead reached beneath her skirt and between her legs.
She went rigid, but for different reasons.
“You’re awfully tight,” George admitted, and pushed his middle finger into her.
She squirmed, gasped. Moaned softly.
“I like that, Becky. I really do. You squeezed me and I lost it.” With gentle care, he pressed in and out, rasping against already sensitized, swollen tissues. She was so wet, still excited. He kissed her open mouth. “You were a virgin, weren’t you?”
She groaned.
“I like that too, babe, though how the hell you kept your virginity for so long amazes me. A woman as sexy and sweet and beautiful as you is just made to be fucked.”
She made a small sound of dazed excitement. George smiled. Becky liked it when he talked dirty to her. He’d noticed that early on, and right now, he wanted her insensate with lust. He wanted her to forget whatever inhibitions remained, whatever troubled her, scared her. He wanted her to trust him.
He wanted her love.
Looking at her with new insight, he asked, “Does this feel good, Becky?”
“Yes.” That single word shivered almost as much as Becky did.
She was so precious, so hungry for physical contact and yet such a sweet innocent. The contradictions drove him wild, and made it impossible not to love her. “If I’m going to squeeze back into you again—and you can be damn sure that I am—we need to prepare you a little more. Let’s try two fingers, okay?”
Her head tipped back, exposing her pale throat where her pulse raced. “Yes. Okay.”
He smiled at her immediate, husky reply. She held her breath as he began working the second finger into her, not roughly, but with insistence. “Take deep breaths, that’s it. A little more.” Her feminine muscles squeezed his fingers as he pushed forward until he had them completely inside her. “I told you I’d fit.”
Her eyes closed. “But you didn’t.”
“Only because you didn’t let me get you ready. Remember me telling you that women need to be touched?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Especially here.” He found her clitoris with his thumb and pressed.
“Ohmigod.”
“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He watched her, loving the way her face, her chest and breasts pinkened. Satisfaction flowed through him as she began to tense. “Next time I slide deep into you, you’ll be so wet and ready, you’ll be begging me to hurry.”
She opened one eye to stare at him in doubt. George grinned and kissed her again. “Now, I’m going to scoot down just a little bit—no, don’t get all antsy on me. I only want to get to your breasts. You have very soft, heavy breasts. They turn me on, and I especially love how your nipples taste.”
“Oh.” She arched, offering herself to him.
George tested her self-control by kissing just below a nipple, around it, touching with his tongue.
“George?”
“Hmmm?”
“Will you…um…”
“What?”
“Suck on me again?”
He’d already come not more than five minutes ago, and with just a small request, she had him painfully hard once more. “Yeah. You can bet I will.” He went back to teasing her.
“George?”
Hiding his grin, he said, “Hmmm?”
“When?”
He curled his tongue around her and drew her into the wet heat of his mouth. Her moan was nice and deep and real. He liked it. He liked helping her forget her silly qualms about her body. What, did she have freckles on her legs? A birthmark? He’d show her that it didn’t matter—after he had her mindless with lust and limp from a screaming orgasm.
Within minutes, Becky was squirming and gasping and George knew she was close. He wanted to be inside her when she came, but decided he could be generous. She deserved a lot of pleasure, and he’d enjoy giving it to her.
He kissed her ribs, down her belly.
Becky groaned. She jerked and pulled against the handcuffs, then flopped back in defeat.
“Sorry, babe, but you’re not nearly strong enough to free yourself.” He dipped his tongue into her navel.
“What…what are you going to do?” She sounded both anxious and worried.
He wanted her to enjoy her first orgasm with him, so he didn’t push the issue of her skirt. Instead, he spread the skirt out across her wide-opened legs. Becky tried to bring her knees together but the footcuffs stopped her.
“None of that. You’re open to me, and I can touch you, taste you, and look at you, as much as I want. Just relax and enjoy.”
He ignored her continued struggles, her rasping breaths, and raised just the middle of the skirt, keeping her thighs hidden but revealing her mound. She went perfectly still.
Being the master of understatement, George said quietly, “Now isn’t this pretty.”
Becky groaned, but otherwise didn’t reply.
He fingered the dark blond curls decorating her sex; they were damp with her excitement. “Very, very pretty.”
Her heels pressed into the mattress, but she still didn’t say anything. Unable to wait a second more, George carefully parted her. “All sweet and pink. You’re beautiful, Becky.”
“You’re looking at me!” She sounded scandalized—and aroused.
“Hell yes.” He stroked his fingers over her, opening her more, teasing her. “I love looking at you.” He leaned down and kissed her deeply.
Her hips shot off the bed. “George.”
He held her steady, keeping her poised high, and continued to taste and tongue and nip at her.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.”
The taste of her, her spicy female scent, filled him. He held her tight so she couldn’t lurch away from him, found her clitoris—and suckled.
In that moment, George knew she forgot all about her worries. She thrashed and cried and pressed herself against his mouth, as much as she could, considering she was tightly bound to the bed.
She begged him with words and actions to continue. He stayed with her, carefully attentive to her reactions so he’d know exactly what she liked the most.
“Back inside you again,” he whispered against her hot flesh when he felt her begin to tighten, felt her legs tensing. He pushed two fingers deep, out, in again—and she came.
It was pretty damn special, George thought, watching Becky come, tasting her release, hearing her low cries.
When she finally quieted, her body going boneless against the mattress, he reared up, grabbed another condom, and in record time, he was over her. She didn’t have time to accustom herself or gather her objections.
George shoved her skirt aside, but kept his gaze locked on her face. Her eyes opened in startled alarm, met his, and went soft and vague as he thrust into her.
“You can take me, Becky,” he ground out from between his clenched teeth. “All of me.”
Her hands curled into fists, her head tipped back. George kissed her throat, bit her shoulder, and rocked into her. “More,” he said as he felt her hips lift, shift in an effort to accommodate him. “More, more, more…ah, yeah.”
Becky panted, her whole body dewy, drawn taut. He knew he filled her, that she felt strained. She was young and virginal and stretched tight around him, squeezing him, gripping him.
George slowly pulled out, moaned with her, and just as slowly drove back in. “Perfect,” he said. “Fucking perfect.”
Becky whispered, “Yes,” and amazingly enough began to shiver in another release.
He wanted her to come again, with him this time. He slipped his hands under her satiny bottom and helped her to meet the rhythm that would drive them both over the edge.
“Faster,” she begged, then, brokenly, on a whimper, “Harder.”
George shuddered. The bed rocked with his thrusts. He felt Becky tense, felt her body go rigid, and it was enough. He held her closer, drove deep into her one last time, and they both shook with an explosive release.
George collapsed on top of her. Her body was small and soft and damp beneath his. Her hair tickled his nose. Her gentle breath brushed his sweaty shoulder. Her plump breasts cushioned his chest. He wanted to stay this way forever, the two of them still connected, their hearts beating together.
For the moment, Becky wasn’t shy or apprehensive. She was sated. She was his.
He dreaded moving because he didn’t want her to start shying away from him again, but he knew he was too heavy for her, and he knew her arms had to be tired.
Forcing his muscles to work, George braced above her. “Mmm,” he teased, and kissed her slack mouth. “You’re something else, lady.”
As if by a great effort, her eyelids lifted. “George?”
Her love-soft voice made him smile. “Did you enjoy yourself, sweetheart?”
Her gaze roamed over his face, finally settling on his eyes. “You’re incredible.” Her sigh brushed his throat. “And very big.”
“But not too big to fit.”
“No.”
George regretted what was to come. He drew a breath to prepare himself, then cupped her cheek. “Now, let’s see what has you so shy, okay?”
All the sleepy satisfaction left her face. Instinctively, her arms jerked, trying to be free. She glanced up at the handcuffs still around her wrists, then back at him. She cried out. Her legs twisted and tugged, shaking the bed.
Disregarding her futile efforts, though they tore at his heart, George sat up. Knowing she watched him, he disposed of the second condom much as he had the first. The sound of her strenuous breathing filled the air between them.
When he finished, he turned on the bedside lamp and faced her. She squinted against the light, tried to twist away from it, from him. Her voluminous skirt was now bunched and tangled around her thighs.
“George, please…” she said, without much evident hope.
Her pleading tone ate at him—and strengthened his resolve. He shoved her skirt aside—and froze.
Becky gave a soft sob.
Her entire right thigh was marred with zigzagging scars, some deep, some shallow. The skin was puckered, pinkish in places, roughened in others. They feathered out around the front of her hip, then got worse, uglier, down her leg, her knee, and partially onto her calf.
Acting solely on emotion, George cupped his hand around her knee and bent closer. “Jesus, what happened?”
“Don’t touch me.”
Her flat voice brought out his frown. “Don’t touch you? You’re naked in bed, Becky. I’ve just finished making love to you, twice. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known, and regardless of what you think of me, I care about you. Of course I’ll touch you.”
“Go away.”
“Not on your life.” He was angry at her for not trusting him, for evidently considering him a shallow ass. He was angry that she’d hidden herself for so long, that she’d let it matter too much. Angry that she didn’t know what a beautiful, amazing, unbelievable woman she was.
She didn’t even realize he loved her.
“Tell me what happened.”
Devoid of feeling, she said, “A car wreck.”
He caressed her, from the inside of her knee to her groin then back again. Bound as she was, she couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
“Surgery?” His heart threatened to break, thinking of his Becky at the tender age of twelve, so hurt, so emotionally wounded, too.
She managed a shrug despite the handcuffs. “Some. It helped me to walk again, but there was nothing they could do to make it look better.”
Very gently, George said, “They’re just scars, Becky.”
“They’re hideous. Kids…they used to make fun of me at school. The ones who weren’t mean, who didn’t tease, just stared instead. They’d look at me with pity.” She spoke with no emotion at all. “My mom started buying me long skirts to hide my leg, but by then, everyone already knew.”
“So you never dated? Never gave a guy a chance?”
She looked at him, her face almost blank. “I dated a guy once. When he saw my leg, he got sick.” Her laugh scared him because it didn’t sound like his Becky, didn’t sound sweet and shy and innocent. “Needless to say, he never asked me out again.”
George floundered for a proper reply, but all he could think to say was the truth. “I’m not him, you know.”
“No?”
“Nope. It doesn’t matter to me, Becky.”
She laughed again.
George decided he’d just have to show her. He gave her a friendly slap on the hip. “You know what I want to do?”
Her gaze turned wary. “What?”
“I want to turn you loose, first. Much as I enjoy seeing you like this”—he leered at her, to make his point—“I know your arms must be getting tired.”
“They are.” She still looked doubtful.
“Okay then. We’ll shower, probably fool around a little more, then I’d like to spend the night.” He put his hand back on her belly, this time under her skirt. “Will you let me stay with you?”
“Why?” She appeared genuinely perplexed by his request.
“You mean other than the fact that I haven’t gotten nearly enough of you?” He grinned at her expression. “All right, I’ll bare my soul again. I’m a man in need of reassurance. I’ve got that damned reputation to live up to, but you only came twice and then only after I’d already acted like a pig and lost control. I need to know that you still respect me.”
“George,” she said, almost laughing but not quite.
He tickled his fingertips down her leg to her ankle, back up again to her hipbone. “I need to know that you haven’t lost hope, that you’ll give me a few more chances to show you that I can be a considerate lover. A great lover. A lover worthy of an awesome reputation.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “I can’t have you running back to work with tales of my shortcomings.”
“Shortcomings?” She smiled past her tears. “You’re a nut. You already know you’re awesome.”
“Awesome enough that you’ll let me spend the night?”
The laughter was replaced with hope. “You really want to?”
“Damn straight.” He unhooked her legs and massaged them in case they were stiff. He ignored her rigidity when he rubbed over the scars, pretending he hadn’t noticed. “Feel better?”
A hot blush colored her face. “Yes.”
George unhooked both her arms and went through the same process, rubbing and stroking. Then he looked down at her breasts. “I feel like Pavlov’s dog.”
She folded her arms around herself. “What do you mean?”
“I see your breasts, and already I’m conditioned to drool.” He shook his head, a little stunned, a lot chagrined. “Damn, I want you again. Already. I’m insatiable.”
Two heartbeats passed, and then Becky tackled him to his back. She trembled, and she had a death grip on his neck. George, feeling his own throat close with emotion, held her tight. “Don’t cry, Becky. I can’t bear it.”
She sniffed and snuggled closer. “George?”
“Yeah?”
“If I let you stay, you have to let me measure you.”
He laughed and rolled her beneath him. “Deal.”
George woke to an empty bed. He sat bolt upright in alarm, but Becky was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he realized sunshine filtered through the drapes. When he looked at the clock, he was stunned to realize he’d slept so late. It was nearly ten, when he almost never stayed in bed after eight. Especially when there wasn’t a woman in bed with him.
He frowned—then heard the feminine whispering in the other room. Becky had company, and he could just guess who it was. Asia and that damned Erica. Were they gossiping about him even now?
George grabbed up a sheet, halfheartedly wrapped it around his waist, and slunk to the door to listen. Yep, that strident voice belonged to Erica. Was she trying to talk Becky out of getting involved? She was so damned cynical about men, even when she was being amusing.
Because he couldn’t hear anything clearly, George opened the door and slipped halfway down the hall. He heard Asia say, “You let him spend the whole night? Why, Becky, you little tart.”
The women laughed, so he knew Asia was only teasing.
“Is it love at first lay, then?” Erica wanted to know, and George thought about storming out and muzzling her.
But Becky’s next words stopped him cold.
“Of course not, Erica. I’m actually amazed that he even wanted to stay the night.”
Both Erica and Asia asked, “Why?”
There was a long expectant moment, and Becky sighed. “There’s something neither of you know.”
George peeked around the corner in time to see Erica bound to her feet. “What did he do to you?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
Asia touched Erica’s arm. “There’s something she wants to tell us. Is that right, Becky?”
“Yes.” But rather than explain, Becky stood. She straightened stiff and proud, and lifted her nightgown, showing her friends her leg.
George wanted to groan. He knew she expected them to be horrified, to be disgusted. If either of them hurt her feelings, he’d…
Asia whispered, “Dear God, Becky, what happened?”
And Erica asked with concern, “Does it still hurt?”
Becky dropped her nightgown back into place. “I was in a wreck when I was young. No, it doesn’t hurt, but you see how ugly it is.”
Erica turned militant. “Did George think it was ugly?”
“He said not. He said it didn’t matter.”
“Of course he’s right.” Asia stood to hug her. “You should trust what he tells you, honey.”
Erica laughed. “True enough. George doesn’t care about a few scars on your leg, Becky. He probably only cares about what’s between your legs.”
The comment sent George right over the edge. Dressed only in a sheet, he stormed into the room. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Erica.”
Erica stood, too, so that the three women grouped together to stare at him in shock.
Three sets of feminine eyes roved over him, from his naked chest and legs to his tenuous hold on the sheet at his hip.
Asia gulped.
Becky blushed. “George, you’re naked!”
Erica recovered first. She gave a wolf whistle, then said to Becky, “Honey, there are some things a woman never complains about. I think this might be just such an occasion.”
George was too disgruntled to be embarrassed. “I don’t like having you speak for me, Erica.”
Asia raised her brows. “You’re saying she’s wrong? That you do care about Becky’s leg?”
Becky looked horrified. “Asia!”
“Of course I care about her leg.”
In a united front, Asia and Erica flanked Becky. They looked ready to castrate him. Becky looked devastated.
At the ragged end of his emotions, George stomped forward. When he touched Becky’s cheek, his hand shook. “I love your leg, and what’s between your legs, and your heart and your hair and your—”
Becky gulped out a laugh. Her face turned bright pink.
Beside her, Asia beamed. “Well now, this is wonderful.”
Erica snorted. Before she could say anything, George reeled on her. “Isn’t it your turn to go hang out in the porn shop?”
A heavy silence fell. All three women scrutinized him, Asia with a touch of guilt.
Becky breathed in accusation, “You knew.”
George wanted things settled. “Damn right I knew.” He cocked a brow. “Or at least I thought I did. You put a definite spin on things that I hadn’t anticipated.”
Asia and Erica leaned around Becky to look at each other. “A spin? Now that sounds interesting. Do tell.”
George rolled his eyes and ignored them. “I didn’t really give a damn what your so-called fantasy was, because all my fantasies are about you. No matter what, I couldn’t lose.”
Erica rubbed her hands together. “Better and better.”
George growled, “Will you two go? I’d like to propose in private.”
Becky blinked. “Propose? You mean…you mean…”
Knowing he’d just blown any chance for privacy, George groaned. Then, filled with determination, he cupped Becky’s chin and demanded, “Marry me, Becky.”
Asia squealed. Erica laughed. Next thing George knew, he was caught in their circle and they were all dancing and jumping and singing their way around the room like a gaggle of loons.
He damn near lost his sheet, and when he made a grab for it, he stumbled. “Damn it, she hasn’t said yes, yet!”
They stopped bouncing around. Becky covered her mouth with a shaking hand. She looked at Erica, looked at Asia. Glowed at George. “Yes.”
Satisfaction rolled through George, followed closely by a tidal wave of lust. “Good.” He grabbed her wrist with his free hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”
Erica burst out laughing. “Men. They are so predictable.”
George stumbled to an outraged halt.
Asia said, “Uh-oh. Bad timing, my girl.”
He turned and stalked back to Erica. “You are next, right, Erica?”
She lifted her brows with mock confusion. “Next?”
“To visit the blasted shop.” He had her cornered and they both knew it. He took swift advantage. “So tell us, Erica, what’s your fantasy?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she quipped, but Asia and Becky just crossed their arms, not offering her an iota of help. Asia even tapped her foot.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why?” George put his arm around Becky, hauling her close. “Because I’m a lowly male?”
Becky said, “He’s very understanding, Erica,” and George couldn’t help but kiss her.
“George will be family, soon,” Asia pointed out. “So tell.”
Rolling her eyes, Erica blurted, “All right, all right.” She put her hands on her hips, thrust her chin in the air, and said, “Prepare yourself, kiddies.” Then she named her fantasy with a taunting smile.
Asia and Becky went wide-eyed. George straightened in surprise. Thinking of what she intended, and what she’d likely get, George started to laugh—until Erica gave him a sloe-eyed, seductive look. He could tell that she expected him to poke fun, to ridicule her. Her opinions on men weren’t overly complimentary.
Well, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting as she expected.
But he couldn’t resist saying, “I pity the poor bastard who runs into you. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Erica assured him.
Giving up, George turned and dragged Becky back toward the bedroom.
Asia was still laughing when Becky yelled over her shoulder, “I think it sounds wonderful, Erica! You can start on Monday.”
George pulled her into the room and slammed the door. He dropped the sheet, picked her up, and crawled into bed with her held close to his heart. “Wonderful, huh?”
Becky touched his chest. “Not as wonderful as you.”
George stared into her eyes, watching her reactions as he slid his hands up her thighs, then spread them wide so he could nestle in between. Becky flinched when he touched her scarred leg, but George knew now that she’d get over that in time. In a thousand ways, he’d show her that she was the perfect woman for him. “I love you, Becky.” He stroked her thigh. “All of you.”
Big tears welled in her eyes. “I love you too.”
“Is that right?” He was already hard, but hearing her say that made him burn.
“I’ve been hung up on you for a long time. What you said about me being your fantasy? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
George smiled. “That’s all I ever want to be.” He kissed her. “Yours.”
“George?”
She sounded so serious, George gave up his contemplation of her breasts to give her all his attention. “What, babe?”
“Do you think Erica is going to end up hurt?”
He rolled over and pulled Becky on top of him. “I think Erica is going to learn a very well-deserved lesson. But if you’re worried about her, I can lend a helping hand.”
“How?” Becky groaned as he began fondling her breasts.
“I’ll make sure the right guy knows what she’s up to.” Cameron had helped him along, so George figured it was the least he could do.
Becky smiled. “Ah. And I know just the right guy.”
He scowled, then caught her nipples in a tantalizing taunt. “You wanna rephrase that, Becky?”
She laughed, squirmed, and when he didn’t release her, she groaned. “The right guy for Erica.”
“That’s better. Now enough about Erica. Come here and love me.”
“All right.” She peeked at him. “Can I handcuff you again?”
George’s heart pounded and his cock flexed. Damn, seeing Becky in a frisky, kinky mood was enough to make any man lose the battle. “You know, I believe you can.”