Eye Candy

Her shoulders pull back. “What?” she whispers, voice racing with excitement.

“That isn’t like the rope I use and I don’t have any with me, so . . . I mean, if you want to do this now, I’m gonna have to use something else. Or we can wait until tonight when we get home, which I think is the better idea. Hattie or whoever could walk in and catch us. I can’t imagine explaining to anyone why I have you tied up on the bar. Or what that would do to business here.”

McGill’s Pub would close. I would be to blame for it.

That’s nice. I’m sure Danny would really warm up to me after that.

“There’s always the storage room.”

My brow lifts at her suggestion.

Beth wets her lips and steps closer, reaching for the rope. “Hattie and Danny won’t be back until later after the party starts. And nobody else is coming in. The door is locked. But just to be on the safe side, we could use the storage room. It’s private.”

“And what are you doing with that?” I ask, tipping my chin at the rope as she clutches it against her belly. “I told you. It’s too rough.”

“You’re wearing a belt, right?”

“Yes.”

“I have an idea.”

“Do you?” I smirk, bringing my arms across my chest and standing tall. “A kinky one?”

“I think so.”

“That’s fucking hot. Care to share, Beth Davis from McGill’s?”

Her eyes narrow as she fights a smile. “That’s not my name anymore.”

“I know. It’s just a habit.”

“Have you changed it in your phone yet?”

I nod my head, grinning. “No.”

“Reed,” she giggles.

“What? It makes me happy when I see it.”

“Oh, and seeing Beth Tennyson from McGill’s wouldn’t make you happy?”

“That would make me lose my mind.”

“Then change it.”

“I will. I just like remembering you and your dick deprivation. Oh, how far you’ve come, sweetheart.”

She throws her head back and laughs, hand to her chest.

I like to tease my wife about her little autocorrect mishaps. Telling me she didn’t get dick very often instead of sick very often right after we first met isn’t something I’m ever likely to forget about.

“Seriously though, Beth, if we do this, I need to be careful. Okay? For me and my own sanity. Nothing too wild.”

“Careful,” she repeats through a smile.

“Yes.”

“That can be hot.” Her voice drops lower and melts, moving like a warm touch up my spine and making my skin tingle. I feel it everywhere.

Everywhere.

Dick hardening in my slacks, I watch Beth move down the bar. Her eyes meeting mine over her shoulder, drawing me in . . . in.

“Is that a we’re doing this now, so move your ass look?”

“Come with me, Mr. Tennyson.”

My chest heaves.

Right. Fucking right.

We’re doing this now.

The storage room is just off the kitchen, nestled in the back corner of the pub beside the giant, walk-in refrigerator.

I’ve never been back here when it’s been this quiet. I can hear every sound as I follow close behind her—the smack of Beth’s boots against the wood floor. Her heavy breathing. The thundering beat of my heart.

Beth walks through the kitchen and steps inside the room, flicking on the light overhead. I follow in behind her and look around the small space.

I’ve been in here before. Once, to help Danny lift something. Crates of canned food and supplies are stacked against the wall and scattered along the floor. There’s a metal table in the middle of the room, which I know is used for sorting. Aside from that, there’s really nothing else in here. And there’s definitely not much room. But it’s secluded. It’s got a locking door.

Very private.

I close the door behind me and lock it, drawing Beth’s attention before she stops beside the table and turns around.

“So, I was thinking you could use your belt to bind my wrists together, and then tie the rope to the belt?”

I follow her eyes to the exposed beams above her head.

God bless Danny for keeping shit rustic in here. I fucking love that guy.

“You want your hands above your head?” I ask, stalking closer, my fingers working at my belt. I whip it off.

Beth sucks in a breath. “Yes,” she whispers, tipping her chin up to look at me when I stop an inch away. “God, yes, please.”

I smirk. “Begging already, sweetheart? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“It isn’t going to take much.”

“Really?” I run my finger down the side of her neck to the dip between her collarbones, feeling the wild hammering of her pulse and the labored swallow she seems to manage.

“Really really.”

“Mm.” I take the rope out of her hand and place it on the table with my belt, leaning in to press my lips to her ear. “Get undressed.”

Beth nods once, immediately reaching for the hem of her shirt. Her fingers tremble.

“Nervous?” I ask, stepping back to watch.

“No. Worked up.”

“Yeah?”

“Reed, you have no idea. I’m like, the horniest woman ever.”

“Lucky me.”

Her shirt hits the floor. Her bra is next.

Panting, she locks eyes with me and wets her lips, and that’s when I finally look at all of her.

I stare at her swollen tits, so full and heavy, and the bump she has.

Being as tiny as she is, Beth started showing early. It seemed to happen overnight. She woke up two months ago and boom. There it was. It shocked us both. Beth seemed a little uneasy at first. But me? I was fucking giddy over it. I still am. I love looking at her. God, I love it. Her body is fucking unreal all the time, but like this? With her nipples a shade darker and permanently hard, just aching for my mouth. The curve of her hips. Her ass, peach-shaped and tasting as ripe as one—I would fucking know. I eat it enough. Jesus. It’s torture looking at her and not touching. But I do look.

Seconds tick by, and it gets to her as much as it’s getting to me. The waiting. The watching I’m doing. Shyness dips her head.

“Do you see how hard I am, Beth?” I ask, shoving my jeans and boxers down.

Head still lowered, she looks at me from beneath her lashes. At my dick, and my hand moving over it. Stroking. I squeeze the tip and moan.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before,” I rasp. “It hurts, Beth. My dick . . . God. Do you see it? Do you see how much I want you?”

“Reed.”

She only says my name, but she’s begging me.

To move. To do something. Anything.

I grab my belt.

I don’t need to tell Beth how to position her hands. She knows, and she never hesitates. She never did. Even in the beginning, the first time I did this with her, she was always so willing. So trusting.

That drove me fucking wild. It still does.

Linking her fingers together, she extends her arms out in front of her, offering them to me.

“You were made for me. Do you know that?”

Her cheeks burn hot.

I loop the leather around her wrists, pull the strap through the buckle, and tug hard, tightening it.

She gasps at the pressure.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding, wetting her lips. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Fuck, I love you.” I kiss her, fast and hard, and grab the rope.