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His wonderful chuckle sounded behind her. “Of course you will.”
Chris pushed off the bed. He didn’t care if she was a mess sometimes. And maybe she didn’t, either. Or shouldn’t, anyway.
She padded into the hall to retrieve her phone from the pocket of her discarded skirt and brought it back into the room. “Just after seven. We’ve got plenty of time. And the call was from Eva. Wait, she texted me. Call me back ASAP.”
“Go ahead.” Zac slid out of bed and took her in his arms. “But first...”
Being kissed over and over and over by a man you’d just had amazing sex with was even better than having your hair stroked.
“Mmm.” Reluctantly, she let him head for the bathroom, while she stood there like a moonstruck buffoon for about two minutes before she managed to calm down enough to dial her sister. “Hey, Eva, I got your message. Everything okay?”
“Are you with Zac?”
“Yes.” She turned toward the door he’d left through. “Why?”
“Because the two of you better start getting serious.”
Chris blinked. Had her sister been watching? “Really? Gee, I’ll get right on it. Why do you say that?”
Zac came out of the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, his head almost touching the top of the frame, body practically filling it, hands on his hips, looking her naked body up and down, his sexy lips curved in a smile.
She was crazy about him.
“Because, dear twin, Ames was offered the job this afternoon. They want him to start as soon as possible.”
13
BODIE WOKE FROM a strange dream in which he was shackled to an iron bed with chains around his wrists and ankles.
He tried to scratch his balls, but there was a clanking, jingling noise and then his hand was brought up short.
What the—?
He was shackled to an iron bed with chains around his wrists and ankles.
Oh, yeah. The blonde he’d met at the A-Frame. What had started as sex with light bondage had turned serious. She’d taken him prisoner, chained him to this bed, unable to move without her permission, unable to eat, drink or pee without her permission, unable to surf!
Damn!
Gus would miss him. Gus knew Bodie would never miss a session. He’d call the cops. Someone would have seen him leaving the bar with her. Someone would be able to trace him here, wherever here was.
In the meantime, he was a prisoner, victim to her rough sexual games, some of which went on for hours.
The door to the room opened. It was her, Gail, wearing the full getup—a black leather bikini, elbow and knee pads, and a black leather mask across her eyes. He’d thought she was pretty hot at the A-Frame, but he’d had no idea what she was capable of.
“Good morning, slave.” She cracked her whip and climbed up onto the bed. He groaned, briefly closing his eyes. The woman was insatiable. She wanted more sex in more ways more often than anyone he’d ever met. “It’s time to begin your training again.”
“Yeah, okay,” he croaked.
“Okay, mistress.” She straddled him, glaring down, hands fisted on her hips, her onyx navel ring gleaming. “Well?”
His cock rose obediently, mighty and straight like that dude’s sword, Excalibur.
Bodie grinned up at her. He was the man! “I’m ready, mistress.”
* * *
“IT’S GOING TO be freezing!” Summer giggled nervously, holding Luke’s hand, staring apprehensively at the water. They’d climbed down into the tiny cove behind her house after Luke got the completely insane idea that it would be fun to go swimming.
“It’ll be awesome. We’ll run, dive in, then turn around and run out. C’mon.” He gave her arm a tug. “Ready? One, two—”
“No!” She pulled her hand away, unable to stop her nervous laughter. This was crazy. She couldn’t believe he’d talked her into it. It was a nice evening, but the sun was on its way down, and the water temperature at this time of year was in the low fifties. Brr. Even putting a toe in would be painful.
Earlier this evening she and Luke had cooked a budget dinner of enchiladas at her house. He’d brought a six-pack of beer, and she’d had a couple that had gone straight to her head, because she rarely drank. Luke had also stopped at two cans, which pleased her. Didn’t seem as if he had a problem there. Maybe that bar fight had been an isolated event. Stupid, but if controlling his alcohol intake wasn’t a problem, there was hope the incident was safely in the past.
