Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
My heart flutters wildly as I scramble to sit up. Nerves ripple low in my belly as he disappears into an en suite with a confident swagger that steals my breath. I watch his back muscles ripple with each step and reality hits me like a ton of bricks.
I’m naked on Gannon Fucking Brewer’s bed.
What the fuck is happening?
I pant, my gaze sweeping through the bedroom.
The walls are a deep, moody gray with a trayed ceiling that hosts recessed lighting. A pair of French doors open onto the second-floor patio I saw when I arrived. There’s a single chair and small table in the corner. Otherwise, the room is sparse.
Until he comes in. Suddenly, there’s no room to spare.
His dark eyes settle on mine as he stalks toward me.
“I thought you forgot I was here,” I say, nearly shivering beneath his stare.
He flashes me a sardonic smile but says nothing.
The soft mattress sinks with his weight as he kneels on the bed. I look up at him eagerly, my body trembling with need, but instead of touching me or kissing me, he licks his own lips.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.
“Depends on what it is. Do I trust you to mind your own business? No.”
He fights a grin.
“But I apparently trust you enough for other things because I drove myself here, took my own clothes off, and allowed you to carry me to what I’m assuming is your bed.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.
“You do that.”
He snatches my wrists up in one quick movement. They’re tied together with a long, thin piece of fabric and pulled over my head before I can protest. The knot is so tight I gasp.
“Will you keep your hands up here, or should I tie you to the bed?” he asks, his tone low and gravelly.
I draw in a shaky breath. “I’ll keep them here.”
“If you don’t, I’ll tie your ankles together, too.”
He slides off the bed and stands at the end.
“You know, this sounds like a good time,” I say, writhing with the need to come again. I start to lower my hands, but a stern look from Gannon makes me freeze. “But the lack of touching is starting to be a downer.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Thank God.”
He crawls across the mattress, looking like he’s about to devour me. His shoulders flex as he moves, and his biceps tighten beneath the soft lighting. I whimper as he grows closer, and the need to be touched overwhelms me.
“Gannon—hey!”
My arms are tugged backward, pulling my body across the plush comforter. I tip my chin to watch him tie the end of the fabric around a slat on the headboard. Oh, shit. I wiggle against the restraints but it’s no use.
I’m not going anywhere.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my tone a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “I can’t move.”
He smiles devilishly and lowers his face to mine, which makes me moan in anticipation. He presses a hard, deliberate kiss to my lips.
“No, you can’t,” he whispers against my lips. “That’s the point.”
He pushes off the bed and stands, while watching me like a predator would prey.
I’m acutely aware of my situation. Immobile. Vulnerable. Naked. I wait for my self-consciousness to kick in … but it doesn’t.
My nipples peak in response to the chilly room and Gannon’s heated gaze. The ache in my belly is nearly unbearable, fluttering into excited butterflies when his expression shifts.
“My, how the tables have turned,” he says, smirking. “How do you feel right now, Miss Johnson?”
“Wet.”
His smirk grows deeper as he unfastens his pants.
“I’d imagine that you’re feeling … frustrated,” he says, pushing his slacks over his hips. They slide down his muscled thighs and fall to the floor. “Probably a little irritated.”
I force a swallow. “You could fix all of that, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” He grins. “But where’s the fun in that?”
“It would be fun. I promise.”
“You were the one saying how fun it was to get off while your partner—me—was occupied.”
Oh. Fuck.
“I want to try it for myself,” he says, nodding as reality hits me.
This bastard is going to make me suffer.
He disappears into the bathroom again, leaving me tied up and wanting.
“Hey!” I say, tugging on the fabric. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Settle down.” He struts back in the room—sans briefs. “Don’t waste all of your energy yet.”
He stops at the foot of the bed beneath an overhead light that gives me a clear, unobstructed view of all of him.
I hiss a breath as my eyes feast on his cock.
It sticks out in front of him, the swollen head nearly reaching his navel. The shaft is thick, and I imagine wrapping my mouth around it. I can almost taste the saltiness of his cum.
“Please tell me you’re going to fuck me,” I plead.
He shrugs. “I might.”