With rope in his hands.
“What’s that for?” I ask tentatively.
“On the chair, baby girl.”
“I—we . . .”
A rough hand reaches under my arm, tugging me to my feet, spinning me round, and depositing me on the chair. Cal steps around, and his mouth dips to my ear. “You don’t need a book to help you write this. You have me.”
Electricity skitters over my skin. I lay my head back on his shoulder. He slides my glasses from my face, placing them on the sofa.
“Is this the first time they’ve been close?” he rasps.
“Uh-huh,” I say with a rapid nod.
“And he just found her in a room where she’d been tied up?”
“Yes.” The word is thin against my parched lips.
A growl vibrates through his chest as he ties my wrists to the slatted chair back. Every breath heaves. His fingers brush over my skin, and I tamp back a whimper.
Damn sex books. I’m a writhing mess, and I still have my clothes on.
“Your book boyfriend is in love with your heroine, I assume?”
I nod, my eyes burning into the man in front of me.
He leans over, forehead pressing to mine. “Does she feel the same way about him?”
I want to pull his mouth to my own. To drown in him.
But my wrists are secured tight to the chair. I pull at them, and my movement jostles the chair.
Cal nips my bottom lip. “Does she?”
“Yes, she does.”
I don’t think I’m answering for my heroine anymore.
Deft fingers travel down my neck, slipping behind my button-down shirt. They dip behind the lace of my bra, ghosting over my hard nipple. I arch against the chair, mouth agape.
Cal’s mouth finds mine. It’s all I can do to open and let him plunder what he wants.
Panting, we break apart.
“Your book boyfriends take what they want, that’s what you told me.”
I nod.
Before the next heartbeat falls, his hands grip my shirt, ripping it apart. I gasp as buttons fling over the floor, and my shirt hangs open. Cal drops to his knees, kissing his way down my belly.
Short burning parcels of air wash through my chest. My clit throbs, achingly so. The cutoff shorts I wear tighten around my thighs as they fall apart. Tugging at the button, he rips the zipper open and pulls the shorts over my ass. A moment later, they hit the floor, leaving only lacy panties behind.
“After all that rescuing, you think a book boyfriend would want to just flee with his girl... I doubt it, any man worth his salt would take his fucking time.” His finger slips behind the fabric covering my soaked pussy. It brushes over my entrance before swirling over my needy, throbbing apex.
“Cal,” I whimper.
The panties join the shorts on the floor. Large warm hands spread my thighs wide.
