Chapter 51 (1/2)

She wriggles beneath me, testing her bindings, but the tie holds fast. She’s not escaping. “That’s better.” I smile with relief because I have her where I want her. Now to undress her.

Grabbing her right foot, I start to undo her sneakers.

“No,” she grumbles with embarrassment, trying to withdraw her foot, and I know it’s because she’s been running and she doesn’t want me to remove her shoes. Does she think perspiration would put me off?

Sweetheart!

“If you struggle, I’ll tie your feet, too. If you make a noise, Anastasia, I will gag you. Keep quiet. Katherine is probably outside listening right now.”

She stops. And I know that my instincts are right. She’s worried about her feet. When will she understand that none of that stuff bothers me?

Quickly I remove her shoes, socks, and sweatpants. Then shift her so she’s stretched out and lying on her sheets, and not that dainty, homemade quilt. We’re going to make a mess.

Stop biting that fucking lip.

I brush my finger over her mouth as a carnal warning. She purses her lips in the semblance of a kiss, prompting my smile. She’s a beautiful, sensual creature.

Now that she’s where I want her, I take my shoes and socks off, undo the top button of my pants, and remove my shirt. She doesn’t take her eyes off me.

“I think you’ve seen too much.” I want to keep her guessing, and not knowing what’s coming next. It will be a carnal treat. I’ve not blindfolded her before, so this will count toward her training. That’s if she says yes…

Sitting astride her once more, I grab the hem of her T-shirt and roll it up her body. But rather than taking it off, I leave it rolled over her eyes: an effective blindfold.

She looks fantastic, laid out and bound. “Mmm, this just gets better and better. I’m going to get a drink,” I whisper, and kiss her. She gasps as I climb off the bed. Outside her room, I leave her door slightly ajar and enter the living room to retrieve the bottle of wine.

Kavanagh looks up from where she’s sitting on the sofa, reading, and her eyebrows rise in surprise. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a shirtless man, Kavanagh, because I won’t believe you. “Kate, where would I find glasses, ice, and a corkscrew?” I ask, ignoring her scandalized expression.

“Um. In the kitchen. I’ll get them for you. Where’s Ana?”

Ah, some concern for her friend. Good.

“She’s a little tied up at the moment, but she wants a drink.” I grab the bottle of chardonnay.

“Oh, I see,” Kavanagh says, and I follow her into the kitchen, where she points to some glasses on the counter. All the glasses are out, I assume to be packed for their move. She hands me a corkscrew and from the fridge she removes a tray of ice and breaks out the ice cubes.

“We still have to pack in here. You know Elliot is helping us move.” Her tone is critical.

“Is he?” I sound uninterested as I open the wine. “Just put the ice in the glasses.” With my chin I indicate two glasses. “It’s a chardonnay. It’ll be more drinkable with the ice.”