Some Sort of Crazy (Happy Crazy Love, #2)

He drove home so fast I was amazed he didn’t get a ticket, and we ran so hard through the parking garage to the elevators I was gasping for air by the time the doors opened. As soon as they closed and we were alone, Miles and I went at each other, lips sealed, hands groping, feet stumbling. At the twenty-third floor, we didn’t even stop kissing when the doors opened, and barely made it into the hallway before they closed.

We moved awkwardly down the hall with our tongues and legs tangled, hands sneaking beneath clothing, until he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around him. I have no idea how he knew where his apartment door was, but somehow he unlocked it and got us in without ever taking his mouth off mine.

Inside, he kicked the door shut and went right for the stairs without even turning on the lights. I thought he’d go right for the bed and throw me down, so I was surprised when he went into his closet.

“What’s this?” I laughed against his lips. “Wardrobe change?”

“Wardrobe removal.” He set me down and whipped my shirt off, breaking the kiss only to allow it to go over my head. His shirt was next, then I kicked off my flats as he removed my bra and shoes and skirt and panties. But when I reached for his zipper, he stopped me. “Wait.”

It was dark in the closet but I heard hangers being shoved aside on a bar and then a drawer open and close.

Next thing I knew, he had something over my eyes and he was tying it at the back of my head. A scarf? A tie? “What is this?”

“Shhh. This is your punishment for teasing me tonight with that little skirt.” Once the blindfold was secure, he took both my wrists, brought them over my head and wound something around them. “You’re not allowed to use your hands.”

I gasped. “I can’t see you or touch you?”

“Not if you want to come tonight.”

“Oh, God.” My heart pounded as he moved me beneath the bar where he’d cleared space, and secured my wrists to it.

“Perfect.” Miles pulled a final knot tight. “I’ll be right back.”

“What? You’re leaving me like this?”

He laughed and kissed the top of each breast. “Yes. You stay here and think about what you did.” A final pinch on the ass and he walked out, leaving me tied up, blindfolded, turned on, and alone. In his closet.

Now what?





Holy fuck.

Holy. Fuck.

Natalie Nixon, good girl next door, was naked, blindfolded, and tied up in my closest.

Just seeing her standing there, arms over her head, back arched, her fair skin radiant in the dark, that head full of tousled blonde hair that always looked like she’d just been fucked…I nearly shot my load right then. But I didn’t want to rush—I wanted to tease her, savor her, linger over every inch of her perfect body. What if I never had this opportunity again?

I walked out of the closet and through my room in case she could hear my steps, but then I fucking bolted down to the kitchen, where I pulled a bottle of my favorite Kentucky bourbon and a glass from the cabinet. If I’d had whipped cream or chocolate syrup or anything else to eat off her body, I’d have brought that too, but I was me, so I had nothing but Cap’N Crunch and Doritos, which I didn’t think would be too sexy. But the bourbon would be delicious licked off Natalie’s vanilla skin…fucking hell, I was so excited my legs were shaking as I ran back to the stairs and darted up three at a time. I slowed down when I got near the closet—just to torture her a little.

“You’re back,” she said.

“Yes.” I moved past her into the bathroom and turned on the light, so I could see her a little. Her rosy pink nipples were puckered, and her chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Oh, fuck, I want her.

“Well, now that you have me like this, what are you going to do?” A hint of nerves edged beneath her tone, and it made me fucking crazy. My cock was like steel in my pants.

“I’m going to have a drink.” I pulled the cork from the bottle of bourbon, and she turned her head in the direction of the pop. I poured a couple fingers and set the bottle down.

“A drink?”

“Yeah. Want a sip?”

She smiled hesitantly. “Sure.”

I lifted the glass to her lips, then kissed her, stroking her lips and tongue with mine, tasting the honey-sweet bourbon on them. Then I poured a little just beneath her collarbone and watched it run down her breast. Her mouth fell open and she gasped while I licked the rivulet just as it reached her nipple, swirling my tongue around the stiffened peak, washing it in bourbon. I did the same on the other breast, and she moaned lightly when I sucked her nipple into my mouth, rubbing the hard tip with my tongue.

Next, I poured some down the center of her chest, watching it flow between her breasts and down her belly. I dropped to one knee and flattened my tongue just above her clit, and licked all the way up her body long and slow, up the underside of each breast, up her throat, tracing the shell of her ear. Her entire body shivered. “Oh my God, I want you,” she whispered. “You’ve got me desperate for you.”

I was desperate for her too, but I wasn’t finished yet.

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