“James, how dare you.” I hold nothing back in my rebuke. There was no discussion of spanking. No warning or regard for my feelings. I wasn’t even spanked as a child.
I tug on the restraints over my head and try to push my feet back against him. My temper flares. I continue to squirm as he rubs over the mark he made. I hate to admit it, but it does ease the pain.
“Your sweet peach of an ass was too tempting. I have no resistance with you. Besides, my hand print looks lovely on your lily-white skin.”
“No more or this game is over. Done,” I say, but I’m not ready to go nuclear yet.
“Relax, babe. I’ll only use my hands to turn you on.” He thrusts one finger inside me as another circles my clitoris.. “Like this.” My shoulders relax and I release my anger. It’s useless to stay worked up with no way to fight him.
I close my eyes as he begins murmuring, his tone thick with desire. “Love you. Fucking hot. Like never before.” Round and round, his fingers and words go.
It’s wrong; maybe worse than the game James demands I play, but I pretend it’s Sin who’s speaking to me. Touching me. Holding me at his will. I remember back to the smell of his cologne last night in the car. It reminded me of the scent of the forest after a rain combined with the slight hint of leather. I press my nose closer to the wood table and inhale. My body reacts to my fantasy, pushing back against James’ fingers.
“Babe. See? You love this, too.” My action is misinterpreted, but I keep the truth locked safely inside me.
He flicks his tongue over my sex and I tense, so close to climaxing. I can’t believe he’s brought me to the edge like this, or was it my Sin-filled thoughts? My traitorous body starts to release and I take another deep breath of the wood, fueling my senses as pleasure I’ve never experienced ripples through my body.
I hear a faint clicking sound as I float down from my high and wonder if James is releasing me from the cuffs. I open my eyes, and—holy hell. Sin, or who I think is Sin, is standing down the hallway leading to the garage.
I blink rapidly, but the image of him remains. His eyes and mouth are open wide. Nothing moves. His face is still, his body stands stiff. From the look on his face, he’s shocked as shit to see me spread out on the table, bound by my arms and legs.
I want to die, leave this body and escape his dazed stare. James has no idea Sin’s standing there observing the scene, the narrow, dark hallway hiding his presence. If Sin moves forward a few inches, his cover will be blown. James will freak out if he knows Sin’s been watching him and all hell will break loose.
“Damn, Harlow.” James places himself between my legs and holds my hips in his hands. A second later, he shoves himself inside of me and thrusts, his pace punishing. “I’ve never seen you come like that. So hard, babe. So hot.”
My body lunges forward and retreats back on the table as James controls my position. My eyes stay focused on Sin, and his are trained on me, too. They’ve become hooded and turned fully brown without a speck of gold as he watches me get fucked. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I’m on fire, burning under Sin’s gaze. I should stop looking at him like this—it is wrong, so horribly wrong.
After a few moments, he shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair, but doesn’t make a sound. The lust-filled look in his eyes has disappeared too, the spell between us broken. He regards me with a creased brow and shakes his head. Lust to pity in a heartbeat. Shame fills my heart.
Humiliated, I mouth the words, “Please go,” and turn my head to the other side. I wait and listen. When I hear the familiar clicking sound, I exhale. He’s gone. But whatever we just shared, I’ll never be able to forget.
Chapter Thirteen
Harlow
“Hey, kiddo!” I lift my head to see Paul Macklin, Rochester Country Club’s primo bartender, calling to me as I enter the bar. I’m thrilled he’s on the clock today.
He throws a white hand towel over his shoulder and flashes his trademark, toothy grin. A weight I didn’t realize I was carrying lifts from my shoulders. Even after a hot shower, nothing had removed the cold chill left over from this morning until I saw his face. I approach the shiny wooden counter as he splays his hands against it.
“Hey, Paul. It’s been awhile.” I return his welcoming smile and glance at the liquid lunch crowd gathering around the bar.
I am met with blank faces. No one remembers me from years ago, or being here without James by my side since his presence outshines mine. I exhale the breath I’m holding and let my shoulders fall.
Different people have sat on these barstools over time, but Paul has been the constant. He was also a dear friend of my late mother, who worked here with him as a barmaid. I have no memory of her working anywhere else.