Page 24 of Biker's Babygirl

I soften my voice as I add, “I’m just looking out for you, I promise. And since I can’t trust you to do what you say, this”—I hold up the rope—“is to ensure that you stay put.”

“I… I will,” she protests, her lip quivering.

“You’ve already proven I can’t take you at your word, Ginny.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve learned my lesson. I understand now. I promise I?—”

“I’m sorry, but I made you a promise, and I’m gonna keep it. This will be a reminder that while you’re under my care, youwillobey—or else. Also, it will ensure I can get to sleep knowing you’re not going anywhere.” I keep my eyes on hers until she bursts into tears. My heart goes out to her, really, it does, but I set to work getting the rope tethered to the bedpost just the same.

“Please,” she cries softly as I walk toward her.

I’ve already fashioned the other end into a slipknot for her wrists. “These are soft enough they will not chafe you or keep you from sleeping, I promise. Now, be a good girl and put your wrists in.”

Eyes dripping tears, she tries again. “Pl-please, sir, I’ll be a g-good girl.”

Seeing she is refusing to accept the situation she’s gotten herself into, I reach around and give her bottom a firm, loud spank. “That’s a little taste of option one,” I inform her.

It couldn’t have hurt much, especially over her clothing, but Ginny’s eyes go wider than I’ve seen them yet, and giving me a watery scowl, she thrusts her wrists forward.

Without a word, I tighten the slipknot just enough, then sweep her into my arms and carry her the short distance to the bed. To my surprise, her small arms immediately go around my neck, and she sniffles into my chest. I stop just beside the bed to give her another minute before I gently surrender her to the sheets. Then I carefully tuck her in.

It might be my imagination, but I swear I hear a drowsy “thank you” as I climb in on my side. But when I turn around to look at her, Ginny is already fast asleep.

Ginny

I wake up unsure of where I am. Tensing, I realize I’m pressed against something firm and warm. Turning my head, I see a strong jaw covered with wiry silver hair framing a pair of full lips. Duke.

Somehow during the night, I snuggled up next to the sleeping giant. I can feel the hard outline of his shaft pressing up against my bottom. In a daze, I wonder if that’s what woke me.

Well, he was right. The ropes didn’t keep me from sleeping.I never would have believed it if I hadn’t experienced it myself.

It’s strange—I had been so bold and sassy to him the night before, but now, waking up next to him, I feel different in a way I don’t have words for. Shy, almost. Which is odd, because we didn’t do anything… but maybe it’s because we slept next to each other, his heat drawing my body closer and closer. It’s… intimate in a way I haven’t been with someone in a long, long time.

I give the rope a little experimental tug, and at once, Duke’s eyes fly open.

“What is it?” he growls.

“I… I have to pee,” I whisper back, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

If he notices my blushing, he doesn’t mention it. He merely sits up and in a few quick, deft motions, my wrists are free.

“Um, thanks,” I mutter, even though it feels kind of weird to be thanking the guy that bound my wrists in the first place. I bound off the bed and in the direction of what is surely a bathroom door. Pushing it open, I exhale in relief when I see the toilet.

I take my time, and after I’ve washed my hands and splashed water on my face several times, I step back into the bedroom as quietly as I can manage.

Duke is sitting up in bed, watching me.

For some reason, this makes the heat in my cheeks surges once more. Again, I chalk it up the odd intimacy of being here with him, in his room, with him only half-dressed. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I murmur.

“I’m normally up hours before now.”

I nod, and my eyes slip from his face, tracing the wealth of hair on his chest. It’s not too much, not too little. It would be impossible to look at him and not notice his well-toned pecs, his chiseled abs… and almost without me being aware of it, my eyes slip down lower, lower…

“You didn’t sleep well,” he observes.

My gaze snaps back up. My cheeks are practically on fire.

Still, he’s a gentleman and says nothing about it. “Bad dreams?”

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