Page 112 of Tequila Tuesdays

Chapter 35

Whenwegottomy house, I was buzzing with anticipation and a little fear.

We walked inside, and Gary greeted us at the door. I leaned down to pet him. “Hey, buddy. Are you having a good New Year?”

I stood up and looked at Damien uneasily. “Are you hungry? I’ve got leftover shrimp linguini.”

Damien took my hand and pulled me into him. “No, sweetheart, I’m not hungry. For food anyway. Are you nervous?”

I shook my head, then changed my mind and nodded. “Yes.”

He skimmed his fingers down the side of my face, then across my collarbone. “Good. But what I should have asked is whether your panties are wet.”

Smiling, I touched his cheek. “I don’t know if my panties are wet because you ripped them off in the truck.”

“Huh. Let me see.” He ran a hand up the back of my thigh, then slid his fingers across my wet center.

His touch felt so good, I shivered. “You may not know this about me, but I’m a little bit of a control freak. I’m not sure I can do this.”

He tilted my head up with his thumb and forefinger and kissed my mouth. Then he licked my lips.

Damien took hold of my wrists. “You’ve been in charge and in control before you were probably ready. Of your mom, your sister, and even your own life. You need to let go and let someone else be in charge for a while.”

I stilled at his words. The year after my dad died, sometimes the stress and fatigue were so crushing, I’d cry late at night into my pillow. I worried about finding my mother dead, losing our house, and losing what was left of my family.

Reaching around my neck, Damien untied my halter top again. He was right, this dress did give him easy access.

He ran his fingers over the swell of my breasts. “I’ll make sure you like it, sweetheart. But if you’re really afraid…”

He’d thrown down the gauntlet. Damien knew exactly what he was doing.

“I’m not afraid,” I lied. My heart fluttered and my breath quickened, but I realized I wanted to do this with him. To give him control over my body.

“Good.” He smiled and took my hand.

In the bedroom, he put his backpack down and finished taking off my dress and shoes. Then he sat me down on the bed and took my wrists, placing them so they faced each other.

“I’m going to tie your wrists together, bring your arms up over your head, then tie your hands behind your back.”

My mouth dropped open. “Do you… what is this called?”

His lip quirked. “Some people might call it shibari, or Japanese rope bondage. We’ll try it tonight and see if you like it.”

I watched in fascination as he took the white rope out of his backpack. He pulled me to my feet, and expertly wrapped my wrists several times.

Then he wrapped the rope between my wrists and tied it off. The restraint suddenly made me feel vulnerable, but the pattern was precise and intricate, and looked sensual against my skin.

“You’re doing so well, Legs.” He moved behind me. “Now raise your arms up and bring your hands down behind your head.”

He positioned me where he wanted me, then he brought the rope down behind my back. My elbows pointed to the ceiling and my breasts jutted out.

He moved in front of me and studied my face. “I’m going to wrap the rope around your chest, then tighten it up. Are you with me?”

I panted a little but nodded. He wrapped the rope around my ribcage several times, then brought it behind my back, looped it through, and tightened everything down.

He studied me with hot eyes, then slowly wrapped a length of rope around my breasts, crisscrossing it between my cleavage.

“And now I’m going to play with you. Kneel on the bed.”

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