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  “If you… want to try something on me, that’d be okay.”

  As her words processed through my mind, I felt like the entire fucking hallelujah choir dropped by for an impromptu performance in my living room.

  I turned to her, astounded. “Are you serious?”

  She shrugged, her long lashes nearly touching her cheeks as her face flushed beautifully. “Maybe… the restraints. Those look complicated. Just so you know what you’ll be doing.”

  I turned more fully her way, raising my eyebrows. “So if I was to go over to that box, open that package of restraints, and meet you in the bedroom, you’d let me tie you up. Is that what you’re saying?”

  She nodded. “I want you to know exactly what you’re doing.”

  “Sandy, I have no idea what I’m doing. The restraints, I can figure out. Me and you, well… that’s a completely different story.”

  She brushed her curls out of her eyes. “Do you promise not to hurt me?”

  In the grand scheme of things, every part of our conversation was a giant turn-on for me. But at that moment, it felt like all the blood flowing in my body went straight to my cock.

  “Of course I won’t hurt you.”

  “Give me a couple minutes, okay? Do you want me in my room?”

  My pulse raced so fucking fast, I thought I was having a panic attack.

  “I want you in my bed, Sandy. Go there.”

  She licked her lips and nodded again, and as she walked away from the couch, I nearly ran to the box near the kitchen table.

  And I stopped.

  This is exactly what I promised we wouldn’t do.

  Not unless she wanted to.

  Did she expect me to tie her up… and that was it? No sex?

  The mindfuck that was the last five minutes nearly had me going crazy. I opened the package, touching the fabric material. There were cuffs that, according to the picture, went around her thighs, and then attached to those were wrist cuffs.

  I imagined her in front of me, ass in the air, lying on her stomach.

  Fucking yes.

  The velvet bag caught my eye. I searched inside, grabbing the warming KY lube and carrying both to my room.

  Sandy was sitting on my bed, wearing nothing but her Foo Fighters t-shirt that barely covered her thighs.

  “Did you read the instructions?” she asked quietly, glancing at the cuffs in my hands. I walked to her, dropping the restraint and the KY on the bedspread.

  “Are you sure about this?” I demanded, the raw need in my voice clipping my tone.

  She swallowed hard and looked up at me in the soft lamplight.

  “Just make me feel good again, Jason. Please.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sandy

  His eyes glazed over at my words.

  “Make you feel good?” he echoed, taking an impossible step toward me.

  My pulse raced.

  When I’d read Carissa’s words and seen the shit she’d sent him, I’d never felt so jealous- or inadequate- in all of our years together. I didn’t know what had come over me at that moment; protectiveness for Jason was something I wasn’t used to.

  And then, as we were running together, he’d said that I’d made him feel good, and he wanted me again.

  The power that those few words had given me, knowing that Jason Brewer, my Jason, wanted me… it gave me the strength to turn to him on the couch and ask him if he wanted to tie me up.

  I knew what he was capable of doing to me, and I wanted to feel it again.

  “Make you feel good,” he repeated, cutting through the silence. Before I could answer, he rested his hands on my shoulders and slid his open palms down my back. My breath caught in my throat as he gathered my t-shirt at the base of my spine and slowly pulled it up and over my head.

  I still wore my bra and thong, a tiny, black lace set that I was sure would please him. His sharp breath told me that I was right.

  “Please, Jason.”

  When I lifted my face to his, his blue eyes darkened.

  I trusted him. I trusted Jason with my life, and I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Move further back on the bed.”

  “Okay,” I answered in a whisper, doing as he asked.

  Suddenly, he was in complete control. I could feel the shift in power, just as I had when we were chatting, and he’d told me to touch myself.

  “These are thigh cuffs. They go around your upper thigh, and then your wrists go in here. Understand?”

  I stared at the device with a look of confusion. It looked simple enough, but I wasn’t sure that my arms would reach my thighs comfortably. Would I have to sit up?

  “Turn over and lay on your stomach.”

  On my stomach? There was something so vulnerable about lying in that position, with him standing at the side of the bed.

  I did as he ordered.

  Stretching out and pressing my face to his pillow, I could smell him on the sheet.

  The scent of him used to spark memories and familiarity. Now, it sent a fresh wave of wetness between my legs.

  “Curve your spine. Relax,” he coaxed. “God. You’re fucking beautiful.”

  As his palm flattened over my naked back, I shivered. His words flattered the hell out of me. Both of his hands slid slowly down my sides, resting at my hips. His thumbs kneaded into my skin, and I closed my eyes, pressing my face into his pillow.

  “Stay just like this. I’ll be right back, babe.”

  I opened my eyes, watching him as he left the room.

  Minutes passed as I contemplated what was to come. The change in dynamic between us, with me completely submissive and him in total control, frightened me in the most exciting way.

  When he returned, I saw the tie that I’d used to blindfold him earlier dangling from his hands. “Is this okay?” He asked softly, wrapping the silken fabric around my eyes.

  As he secured a knot, he adjusted my hair.

  “Sandy?”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  I couldn’t see. I expected to be able to at least peek out the bottom of the blindfold, but he’d turned off the lamp. I could sense some light on either side of the bed, and realized that he’d lit candles. The flame flickered somewhere deep in the darkness, beyond the blindfold.

  “Lift your hips,” he said, and I jumped as his deep voice cut through the silence.

  Doing as he asked, I moved to my knees, flattening my chest on the bed.

  I felt his hands gripping the top of my right thigh, and I clenched inside with just his touch. The soft material of the cuff fit snug against my skin as he strapped the restraint on me. He moved onto the next thigh, and I tried to be still.

  “Give me your hands. Turn your face and rest your cheek on the bed.”

  Tentatively, I reached behind my back. He straightened my arm, and the cuff locked to my right wrist first, and then my left.

  “Are you okay?”

  I forced words to my throat. “Yes,” I managed.

  “I… forgot to take this off.” His finger hooked in the thin band of my thong. “I have two options. I can either take off the cuffs, or rip this off of you.”

  I smiled as he talked through the problem.

  Bravely, I turned, the blindfold still firmly in place. “I said you could tie me up, Jason. I never said you could strip me.”

  He made a sound that was a mixture between a groan and a laugh. I felt his weight shift the bed, and my heart hammered against my chest when I realized that he was right behind me.

  I tried to pull at my arms, but they were locked to my thighs.

  “I can work with that,” he said, and I sucked in my breath as his hands flattened over my back. He slid them up my sides, so slowly, under the cups of my bra. Positioned like I was, my breasts felt heavy in his hands. Waves of pure pleasure poured over me, and I exhaled slowly.

  His hips fit against mine, and I realized that he was completely naked. His erection had shocked me in the camper; I hadn’t expect
ed him to be as big as he was, even given all his silly bragging throughout our friendship.

  His hard heat pressed against my thigh.

  “I have wanted to kiss your back since that summer, at the beach,” he began, and then I felt his mouth against the base of my spine. “Why didn’t I?”

  My God. I let a tiny cry escape, and I could feel his smile against my skin.

  His hands tightened over my breasts, his thumbs brushing both of my nipples. He pinched each hardened bud as his rough chin drug over my back. I moaned, the overwhelming sensation of his kisses and hands everywhere stoking the fire raging inside.

  “You’re perfect. Arch your back.”

  Over and over. His fingers on my nipples, pulling, pinching, his hands squeezing each breast, rubbing.

  I tried to tug at my wrists, but the restraints did exactly as they were intended to do.

  “I haven’t even touched you, and you’re dripping for me. I can feel you.” He fit himself between my legs, with only the thin string of my thong separating us.

  I struggled again with the cuffs; it was natural to tug at the restraints, and every time I did I felt a startling thrill tremor through my body.

  “No, you can’t move,” he spoke against my back. “Stop trying.”

  He let go of my breasts and sat back, his hands resting over my hips. Before I could take a breath, he cupped me between my legs, and I squirmed, gasping at the sudden sensation. The pressure of his hand forced a moan to my throat.

  I tugged at the cuffs, and he pulled the lacy thong aside.

  “Jason,” I begged, my forehead digging into the pillow as his finger slid inside of me, so deep. I was blinded, rocked by sensations beyond my control. He pushed another finger inside, and I cried out softly.

  “Does this feel good?” he asked, and I could only nod, unable to form coherent words. “And this?”

  His fingers pumped inside of me, and then he pulled them from front to back, gripping my ass.

  I felt pressure on the inside of my calves; his knees were pushing my legs apart, and I had no choice but to open myself to him. I was weak, powerless to stop him, and I didn’t think that I wanted to stop him. No one had ever seen me like this, not even Jack. He’d never bothered with any unconventional foreplay, and I had no idea where Jason was taking me.

  I jerked on the cuffs as his fingers pushed inside of me again. “Jason, God…,”

  He pulled out of me, and this time I writhed as his soaking hand hooked beneath the string of my thong.

  I felt pressure. He positioned his throbbing body at my opening, sliding slowly, mercilessly slowly into me. I was filled with him, all of him, and my body contracted and took him inside, fitting perfectly.

  He sucked in his breath, pausing for a long moment. “You’re made just for me, Sandy,” he exhaled. “Only for me.”

  The possessiveness of his words forced a helpless moan from my lips.

  His hand, wet from my own body, spread my ass open. I tightened nervously under his inspection. I felt him rock his hips, pulling out only to thrust into me again.

  I cried out when I felt his finger beneath the thong, probing at my darkest place. The pressure against the ring of muscles, so hidden, where I’d never been touched before, sent a wave of panic over me.

  “Jason!” I cried, and he gripped my hip with his other hand. I was locked with him, completely under his control, and he knew it. “What are you doing?”

  “Trust me,” his gruff voice sounded from the darkness around me. “Just relax. Don’t tense.”

  The unfamiliar taboo of him touching me, there, while I struggled against the cuffs forced me to gasp in shock. I bucked wildly, trying to get away.

  With one more forceful push, his finger drove inside of my ass. My resisting body opened to his probing, tightening around his intrusion, while my core clenched against his cock. The pain was intense, foreign, but was instantly made bearable as his cock and finger began to thrust rhythmically inside of me.

  Oh, God, I lost my senses.

  With every thrust of his hips, his finger slid deeper, forcing my muscles to expand. Awareness paralyzed me. My mind wanted to resist, knew it was wrong, but my body could only react to the force of his touch, the assault of sensation. I arched my back, moaning, writhing, trying to pull away only to push him in further.

  What in the hell was happening to me? I screamed, muffled into the pillow, coming so hard and fast that I drifted in and out of consciousness.

  “Fuck,” he growled, from somewhere above me in the darkness.

  The orgasm wracked me to my core. He removed his finger and gripped my hips, holding me immobile while he drove deeper into me.

  “Sandy… God, baby…,”

  He thrust into me, shuddering.

  Resting his forehead against my back, he panted softly between sweet kisses.

  I slowly came back to the darkness, to his bedroom, to the intensity of the moment. I tried so hard to keep the anxiety at bay, but already the overwhelming need to analyze everything that we’d just done was taking over. My muscles tightened around him, and I felt him pull out, the warm, stickiness on my thighs heightening my senses.

  Jason had come inside of me again. My Jason.

  I was on the pill and had been for years; I wasn’t concerned about that. There was something so profound about him filling me with himself, with his life, that forced tears to my eyes.

  I love him. I loved him, and I always had. I wanted to tell him; I wanted him to be absolutely certain that the part of my heart that had always belonged to him still did, only in an entirely different way.

  In a perfect world, Jason was mine.

  “Untie me,” I begged, between sharp breaths.

  “Not yet,” he whispered, against my skin.

  I tried to move, and he pulled my hair aside, dropping his mouth to my neck.

  “Jason, please untie me.”

  He sighed deeply and unfastened the cuffs, and I rolled onto my back, reaching for the tie.

  “Wait,” he repeated. “Leave it on. I’ll be right back.”

  My hands stilled over my face, and nodded, dropping them to the pillow behind my head.

  He disappeared for a few minutes. I heard the water running, and when he returned, I nearly jumped off the bed as the warm washcloth touched my thigh. “I’m just cleaning you up, San. Relax, okay?”

  I could only nod. The warm, cotton cloth between my legs was the most luxurious feeling in the world at that moment. The blindfold quelled the overwhelming shyness that I felt as he gently cleaned my folds, and I couldn’t fight the inevitable stirring that I felt as he touched me again.

  Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, I felt him lie next to me.

  “Can I take it off now?” I managed.

  He was silent for a long moment, and I felt his hand cupping my face, his thumb tracing my jaw line.

  “Before you take it off… will you give me three answers?”

  I turned toward his voice, taking a deep breath.

  “Only three?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “First.” He pulled me closer, so that my ear rested against his naked chest. I could feel his heartbeat, the steady rhythm that echoed my own. “Did I make you feel good?”

  I nodded, without hesitation. “I’ve never… felt like that before… God, Jason.”

  I could hear him smile in the darkness.

  “Me too, San,” he answered softly. “Now, second. If I arrange everything at work, will you come away with me for the week? Back to the ocean?”

  At that, I reached for the blindfold, but he caught my wrist, pulling my hand to his lips. Sighing, I melted into his kiss.

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He accepted that, taking a deep, steadying breath.

  “Third.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Do you really want me chatting with Carissa?”

 
; At the mention of her name, the magic shattered around us.

  I’m a mess. He’s been through so much with the divorce and deserves happiness.

  “That’s why we did this, isn’t it?” I said, yanking at the blindfold. I pulled away as he reached for me, bending to gather my t-shirt as I regained my bearings in the darkness. “Of course I do. In fact, she’s probably waiting for you. If you need some ideas, text me, I’ll be in my room.”

  “Sandy-”

  “It’s okay, Brew. You were a pro with the cuffs. She’ll love them.”

  I spoke without turning, hurrying to my room and snapping the door closed behind me.

  My back was still pressed to the door when he knocked behind me.

  “Nope. Open up. Not letting you do this.”

  “Jason, I’m fine,” I called, forcing a smile. “Really.”

  “I need to see your face.”

  I turned with a sigh, turning the knob to find him standing in the doorway. With the brightest smile I could muster, I winked at him. “Really. I’m totally fine. What you just did to me… was amazing. Really. Amaaaazing,” I teased, reaching to pat him on the bare shoulder.

  He wore only boxer-briefs, and I nearly choked to see that he was already hard again.

  “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

  I narrowed my eyes, forcing my smile to stay put. “What do you mean? Doing what?” I nodded toward the living room. “You’d better go tell Carissa that you like her present. And make sure you describe how you’re going to share it with her. If you need help, you know where to find me.”

  “Sandy.”

  “Night, Brew.”

  I stepped back and closed the door before he could say another word.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jason

  I stood in the hallway, staring at Sandy’s door for almost five minutes.

  Part of me wanted to force her to talk to me.

  But I didn’t want to scare her.

  Or push her away.

  I had my hand on the doorknob three times, finally cursing and stalking back to my bedroom for sweats.

  I heard the bathroom fan turn on in Sandy’s room, and I knew she used the sound as white noise to sleep.

  When I went to the kitchen, I realized it was only ten o’clock. Retrieving another beer from the fridge, I lowered to the table and opened the laptop.