Page 119 of Breaking News

“You’re thinking of the second one,” I said. “Have you never seen these movies?”

Jill shook her head. “No. I was just a little girl when they came out.”

I froze with a slice of pizza halfway to my mouth as I did the math in my head, realizing she was, indeed, a little girl while I was watching this movie at the local cineplex with my idiot friends. Before I could stop it, I let out a hearty laugh, bowing my head down in pure disbelief.

“What on earth’s the matter with you?” Jill asked, laughing with me even though she didn’t know what was so goddamn funny.

“I’m just soold,” I answered, and it made her laugh even harder, right along with the kids.

Glancing around that room, I took a moment to soak this in. I remembered that night all those weeks ago when I sat all alone on the deck, listening to the laughter float over from the other side of the fence.

Now, surrounded by my kids, my girlfriend—and God help me,Richie—I couldn’t imagine a better night than this. It didn’t matter that my future was hanging in the balance or that I didn't know where I’d be working a month from now. If this was what I had to come home to at the end of a long week, it was all I ever wanted, anyway.

one year later

Jillian

Ishould have known Graham was up to something.

The devilish grin when he told me to lean over the deck railing to look at our tomato plants should have been the first indication Graham had something up his sleeve. Or in his pocket, rather—it took him all of three seconds to pull out the leather handcuffs and fasten one around my left wrist. I spent the next three seconds reacting to his trickery, giving him ample time to loop the chain connecting the two cuffs around the deck railing and secure the second cuff to my other wrist.

His body pressed firmly against my back, trapping me against the railing. All I could do was gasp his name as he tightened the second leather cuff, the Velcro just snug enough that I couldn't wriggle free. “Graham! We're supposed to be heading out for dinner.”

He held onto my hips, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “Yeah, and then you put on that sundress and teased me.”

“It’s just a dress,” I said innocently, turning my head so our mouths were aligned. But we both knew that wasn’t true. Thiswas no WWTV dress. With its thin straps and snug black fabric clinging to my hips, I wore it just because I knew how he’d react. Maybe I was the one with the devious plan tonight.

But I’d never let him know that.

“And I’m just a man,” he whispered, his lips hovering just over mine. Talk about being a tease. This agonizing almost-kiss was driving me crazy, and I got the feeling he knew that.

“The Gardners might see us,” I said, glancing at our neighbors’ house.

“They’re not home,” he said, his bottom lip just grazing mine. Was he lying? How did he know if they were home or not? I had to admit, it was pretty quiet, other than the sound of the lawn sprinklers and someone mowing a few yards over. The privacy fence concealed us from any prying eyes.

Graham’s hand cupped the back of my head, and finally, he brought his mouth to mine. With my hands restrained, I couldn’t grab him back like I wanted. But, like always, the total lack of control thrilled me. Whatever happened next was entirely up to him.

“Just say the word, and I’ll let you free and we can go to dinner now,” he whispered against my lips.

I shook my head.

He tugged away and positioned himself behind me, running his hands along my curves. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my dress, inching it up slowly until it bunched around my hips. And then, with that same gentle authority he always carried in the bedroom, he hooked his fingers into my black panties and slid them down. He held me steady as I stepped out of them, both of us laughing as they dropped off the side of the deck into the rose bushes below.

The laughter faded quickly as he pressed his chest against my back, one hand splayed on my stomach, the other slidingbetween my thighs from behind. He didn’t waste any time. His fingers found me already wet and aching for him.

“Spread your legs for me,” he said, and I did as he instructed, parting my thighs so he could dip one finger inside of me. “That’s my girl.”

He slid a second finger in beside the first, using his thumb to massage circles around my clit. My hands clenched around the railing, the cuffs tugging tight as I arched back into him. My whole body pulsed around his fingers, my heels wobbling under me, my breath coming out in broken gasps.

“I’m getting close,” I panted.

And then he pulled his hand away.

A sound of protest escaped my lips, but before I could say more, he gripped my ass in both hands and gave it a firm squeeze. “Not yet. Bend over for me.”

I tried, but the pressure on my elbows from the railing had already started to burn. I winced as I shifted. Just that slight change in angle sent a bolt of discomfort up my arms, and it was just enough to pull me out of the moment.

Over the past year, I’d become better at recognizing my fibro triggers. I knew if I spent any more time bent over this wood railing, I’d be feeling it all the way through dinner.

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