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“I want touching.” The words barked out of me, cannon fire in the quiet room.
“Touching?” He tilted his head, clearly in a mood to make me get specific.
“Like you narrated last time. You touching me with me tied up…likely on my back, but don’t leave me hanging.” I gave a rusty laugh. “Sorry. Poor word choice.”
I’d meant to imply that I wanted the relief of an orgasm, not that I wanted to be strung up, and Holden chuckled right along with me.
“Yeah, no suspension bondage tonight. And you don’t have to worry, baby.” Holden was all kinds of loose and relaxed, breaking out the baby even before I was trussed up. “I’ll get you off even if I make you suffer a little orgasm control to earn it.”
“Suspension bondage. Orgasm control.” I narrowed my eyes. “Where did you pick up the kinky vocabulary?”
“I’ve maybe been doing some research.” He glanced down at his big hands. And damn, why hadn’t I noticed before how sexy his hands were? They were big, strong, and capable, leading to even sexier forearms poking out of his rolled-up shirtsleeves.
“Maybe?”
“Okay, definitely a little poking around on the internet.” His tone was sheepish. “Some articles, a few how-to videos, a couple of class descriptions, and a visit to an online adult store to see what various gear looks like.”
I blinked. “You did that much research for me?”
Holden might be a little embarrassed, but I was awed. Had I ever inspired that kind of concern from anyone?
“For both of us. I wasn’t kidding about liking what we did the other day. I want to know more.” His curiosity was damn adorable, the way he went from sheepish to enthusiastic. “But also, I was hoping you’d ask, and I wanted to be prepared. I want this good for you.”
“Hell, you caring about getting it right, that pretty much guarantees it will be.” I kept my tone practical, but in truth, my muscles buzzed with anticipation, eager to see what tricks Holden had learned.
“Someone caring about the details is the bare minimum you deserve.” His stern tone made me laugh again. Apparently, being cared for was the key to loosening my vocal cords because I’d laughed more tonight than any time in recent memory.
“Such a conscientious kink lifeguard. I’d call you a bodyguard, but not sure you can protect me from myself.” I gestured to indicate that the vast majority of my kink experience had been on my own.
Holden gave a legit growl. “I can damn sure try.”
“Not sure whether you’re hot or infuriating when you go all fierce.” I pulled off my T-shirt, careful of my neck and shoulder bandaging.
“Let’s go with hot.” Tone flippant, Holden pointed at the bed. “Where do you want me?”
Everywhere. I wanted him everywhere, all at once, the need so all-consuming as to be overwhelming. “Sitting next to me on the bed? Then you can…touch.”
“And play. I’m digging it.” Grinning, he transferred himself to the right side of the bed and started sorting through my ropes and gear. He glanced up as my sweats hit the floor. “And is ogling allowed? Because damn.”
“Oh.” My skin heated as I gathered my clothes to set them on the chair. “Was I not supposed to strip?”
“You most definitely were supposed to strip.” His stern voice was back, but there was a smile there too, a playfulness. “What about me?”
“Hmmm.” I considered the vibe I wanted since, apparently, this was all about me and what I liked. And damn, Holden looked good in his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, collar loose, and gray slacks that hugged his frame well. “Clothes on. Not because I don’t wanna see…” My cheeks reached supernova-level warm. “Sorry. No idea why I’m blushing. It’s…appealing. Sexy, kind of? You clothed. Me not.”
“I can see the draw in that. On the bed now, arms overhead.” He went from thoughtful to commanding in a single sentence. “How do you feel about having your legs cuffed like we talked about?”
“Yes.” I groaned at the mere idea as I stretched out next to him. The position was strangely intimate, cozy even, and I had to resist the urge to curl around his warm bulk like a cat. “I want my legs restrained.”
“Good.” Holden set to rigging my wrists first, working with sure fingers and some sort of internal agenda as he maneuvered me this way and that, stopping to inquire about my stitches and making sure I wasn’t stressing my healing wound. “According to my research, you should have a word in case you need me to untie you in a hurry or don’t like something I do.”
Holden with a little kink knowledge was a dangerous thing. “You think I have a problem using the word no?”
“I think part of you is dying to be even brattier and tell me where to stuff it, but you want to know I’ll keep going.” He gave me a look so pointed it pierced my bluster effortlessly. And yeah, I wanted that. Badly.
