I Love Bad Boys Page 2

  The man on-screen moved into a room—where a woman was tied to a bed. Becky started in surprise. Why, this movie was about bondage. Had George chosen it on purpose?

  The woman was atop the covers, completely naked. Her legs were held wide apart, secured to the foot posts on the bed with black cords. Her arms stretched out over her head and were also tied. She was vulnerable, fully exposed. She wore a blindfold and as she sensed the man’s approach, she moaned softly.

  Unable to look away, Becky drew a strangled breath—and felt her back touch George’s chest. She started to jerk forward again, but he settled his hands at either side of her throat, keeping her in place.

  “Shhh. If you make too much noise,” he said close to her ear, “they’ll know we’re in here.”

  Shaken by the touch of his warm breath in her ear, Becky whispered, “Who?”

  “The guys from the factory.”

  “Oh.” That’s right. The reason he’d led her into this booth in the first place was to avoid detection by others. “Thank you.”

  The man in the movie knelt on the bed beside the naked woman. She squirmed, a little frantic, her bare breasts jiggling with her efforts, rising and falling, but the ropes held her tightly. She couldn’t move more than an inch.

  She couldn’t move away from him.

  The man trailed his fingertips over her arm, up and down, over her ribs, making the woman twist and moan some more. Slowly, very slowly, he cupped her breast and gently squeezed. Becky’s own breasts tingled, her nipples pulled tight.

  George leaned down and this time his warm breath teased her temple. He spoke in a drawing whisper that made her eyelids feel heavy, her insides warm and liquid. “You ever watch a dirty movie, Becky?”

  She could barely speak, didn’t dare blink. She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the movie so she wouldn’t miss a thing.

  George’s fingers caressed her shoulders, subtly, with encouragement. “I know women,” he whispered, “and you, Becky Harte, like this particular film.”

  Was she really so obvious? Did she even care? “I…” I want to do that to you. Becky knew she couldn’t say that, so she said nothing.

  “Some people are turned on by dominating, some by being dominated.”

  Becky swallowed hard. “He won’t hurt her?”

  “Of course not. That has nothing to do with bondage, or with pleasure.”

  George spoke with confidence, making Becky wonder if he had firsthand knowledge of this. “I…I see.”

  The man began kissing the woman. His mouth touched her nipples, first softly, then sucking until she cried out. He rasped her with his thumbs, and laughed when she tried to escape him. He kissed her again, licking everywhere, her throat, over her breasts, down her stomach…between her legs.

  The woman jumped.

  So did Becky.

  “Shhh,” George murmured, making Becky shiver in reaction.

  The woman arched, but her movements were limited because of her restraints. She cried out, bucked, and bowed but the man stayed with her, his mouth on her, against her sex, his hands holding her hips steady, and seconds later she found her release in a long raw groan that had Becky catching her breath and shaking uncontrollably.

  “Becky?”

  Feeling almost feverish, Becky wavered, and found herself flush against George’s body.

  George had an erection.

  On-screen, the woman moaned in soft acceptance. Inside the booth, Becky did the same. She could feel George, long and hard, firmly pressed against her behind. It was a first for her.

  Everything today was a first.

  “Watch,” George insisted, and Becky could have sworn she felt his mouth touch the rim of her ear. She all but melted into a puddle.

  Since she couldn’t seem to draw her attention away from the film, George’s instruction was unnecessary.

  From one frame to the next, the setting of the film changed, and now the woman sat astride the man, while it was his arms stretched high and tight, tied to the bedposts. His head was tipped back, his chest muscles starkly defined as the woman rode him hard and fast.

  Becky breathed too hard in reaction. This was what she wanted. Oh, she wanted it so much. The man in the movie wasn’t blindfolded, and he wasn’t nearly as appealing as George. But Becky could pretend he was. She could pretend that he’d take his pleasure with her, and not be able to see her, not be able to touch her.

  Suddenly the woman’s mouth opened on a scream and Becky knew it was a scream of pure excitement. The woman shuddered, climaxed…and Becky felt George’s hand slip around her to settle beneath her left breast. His fingers were hot, long, curving on her rib cage. His hair brushed her cheek, cool and silky. His heart rapped against her back.

  Awareness and need held Becky perfectly still so George wouldn’t stop touching her.

  “Your heart is racing, Becky.”

  This time she knew for certain his mouth touched her. He placed a gentle kiss on her temple—and the film died.

  Neither of them moved. The sound of her breathing filled the small booth. Becky had no idea what to do or what to say, so she did nothing. George’s big hand was still on her, beneath her coat, right below her breast, not moving, just resting there, warm and sure and confident.

  “I think I know what section you were looking for, Becky.”

  In that moment, more than anything, Becky wanted him to touch her breast. It was insane, but she craved his touch. “You…you do?”

  “Oh yeah. You want some restraints, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  He’d called her sweetheart. “Um…” Should she just blurt it out? How did a woman go about telling a man she’d like to tie him to her bed? And she did want to do that.

  With George.

  Becky was now very glad she’d run into him, and not some other man. This small incident felt right in a way she knew it wouldn’t have been with anyone else. She’d been wanting George for a long time, so now was her chance.

  It was possible that he’d chosen that particular film because he was into bondage, and wanted her to know it. Becky found it hard to imagine that George—sexy, gorgeous, experienced George—would be willing to leave himself at her mercy. But the idea was a very tempting one.

  The pros and cons of having sex with a man she worked with winged through her head in rapid order. But before she could find the right thing to say, George moved the curtain aside. “C’mon. I’ll help you.”

  Again, Becky found herself being led by him. He drew her to the back of the store toward another isolated room. Along the way, Becky looked around at all the amazing contraptions. One particular item caught her interest and she turned her head to stare.

  Beside her, George paused. With his dark gaze on her face, he said, “It’s for female pleasure. Most of the stuff in here is geared for women.”

  “Really?”

  At her surprise, George narrowed his eyes. “It’s not always as easy for a woman to climax as it is for a man.”

  He spoke so casually that Becky blinked, still looking at the small contraption and trying to figure it out. There were so many things in the shop that seemed to require an instruction manual. “I see.”

  “Do you?” When she didn’t answer, he expounded on his explanations. “Just having a man inside a woman doesn’t always do it for her. She needs to be touched other ways, other places.”

  Becky opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tilted her head, studying the ridiculous device, but still it didn’t quite make sense how it would work.

  George made an impatient sound. “You can’t be that naive.”

  Becky turned to stare up at him.

  He ran a hand over his head, further mussing his hair. Then, to her horror, he snatched up the device and held it in front of her. “See this opening? It fits over a man’s cock. When he rides a woman, this part right here strokes her where she’s most sensitive. Because it vibrates, if he goes deep inside and just holds still, it’ll work too.”

 
Becky was floored by this outpouring of sexual instruction. George didn’t seem the least bit shy about discussing things with her. It was astonishing and embarrassing and very educational.

  She wasn’t sure if she should thank him or not.

  When she remained silent, he frowned. “Becky, do you understand?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “You think so?”

  Her curiosity overrode her shyness. “Have you ever…? You know.”

  “What?” He waved the thing under her nose, then tossed it back on the shelf. “Worn one of those? No way. I don’t need them.” He looked at her mouth and his dark eyes glittered. “Any man worth his salt knows how to make a woman come without all these gizmos.”

  Ohmigosh, ohmigosh. Becky gulped. Would he illustrate that for her, too? She sort of hoped so.

  His gaze moved down her body, to her lap. “Remember the guy in the video? There are better ways to ensure a woman’s satisfaction.”

  There it was, his explanation and that look that felt like a physical touch, given with his blatant suggestion that he enjoyed kissing a woman…there, and Becky’s knees went weak. She caught the shelf for support, refusing to crumble in front of him, even over the idea of oral sex.

  Trying to sound as cavalier as George, she changed the subject. “It was designed by a doctor.”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  “Wouldn’t you think most doctors had medical emergencies or something to occupy their time?”

  This time George laughed outright. “Amazing.”

  “What’s amazing?”

  He didn’t explain, he just took her hand and finished leading her to the other room. Becky looked around in awe. Velvet-lined handcuffs, dark blindfolds, satin ropes and restraints of every style and extreme decorated the walls, some even hanging from the ceiling. “Oh my.”

  George crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you bring your charge card?”

  “No.” She didn’t want any legal documentation from her trip here. “But I brought plenty of cash.”

  Looking very pleased, George said, “Then allow me to guide you through a few purchases. And, Becky?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When we’re through, we’ll set a date to get together.”

  Becky whipped around to face him. “A date?”

  “Oh yeah.” He touched her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You see, Becky, we’re of a similar mind. And I think we’ll get along real well, don’t you?”

  Chapter Two

  George watched that intriguing color darken Becky Harte’s soft cheeks again. God, but he loved the way the woman blushed. Since he was still touching her, he even felt the heat. Would she flush all over like that when he had her securely bound to his bed, naked and hungry and waiting for him to give her a screaming orgasm?

  He had a feeling she would, and he could hardly wait.

  What a little fraud she was.

  He’d worked at the factory as a supervisor for two years now. In that time, he’d gotten to know Becky well. Or so he’d thought. She was very young—too young he’d sometimes thought. And though at twenty-five she should have had her share of experience, Becky still had “sweet and innocent” stamped all over her in a way that made a man’s primal instincts go on red-hot alert.

  From her big blue eyes, to her bouncing blond curls, to her sweet small-town accent, she exuded artless naïveté. She was the type of woman who—he’d thought—would want to get married if she got intimate with a man.

  Still, he thought of her nearly every day, and wanted her more often than that. At work, he couldn’t help stopping to chat with her whenever possible. She was so sweet, so open, damn near every man at the factory felt drawn to her, himself included. But Becky never seemed to notice.

  And she never seemed to want male attention.

  She’d certainly turned him down. She hadn’t been rude or inconsiderate about it, but rather she’d feigned misunderstanding. He’d tease, and she’d give him a blank look, then call him Mr. Westin in a way that made it clear she considered him a supervisor, a casual work friend, and nothing more.

  In many ways, her youth, her fresh-faced candor, and her disinterest had made her more appealing, to the point he nearly felt obsessed with her. Of course, her body had helped in that, too.

  He absolutely burned with the need to see beneath her conservative clothes.

  Her long skirts and buttoned-up blouses couldn’t quite disguise a sweetly rounded figure ripe with curves. The way she tried to conceal herself only made his imagination go wild. More often than was wise, he’d fantasized about getting her into bed.

  And now he knew the truth. Sweet, innocent Becky wasn’t into marriage. No, she was into bondage. She wanted to be tied down, she wanted to be vulnerable. She wanted to be at a man’s mercy.

  Yet she still blushed, and she honestly seemed to be clueless about things sexual in nature.

  What an intriguing conflict.

  Becky Harte wanted to be dominated—and George was just the man to accommodate her. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let any other guy do it.

  With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Becky turned away from him to study the wall of blindfolds. George studied her ass.

  He could hardly wait to get his hands on her.

  Today she wore a beige denim skirt that hung clear to her ankles, but he could see that her feet were small, her ankles trim. Her bulky coat over a loose thick sweater hid her waistline, but couldn’t hide the thrust of her full breasts.

  George’s palm tingled as he remembered slipping his hand beneath her coat to feel her heartbeat. She’d trembled gently, her heart thumping hard and fast, her breast a warm firm weight against the back of his hand.

  He’d wanted to slide his fingers higher and cup her breast. He’d wanted to stroke her nipple until he felt it puckering tight.

  She’d wanted the same.

  But not teasing her now would get him further later, so George had controlled himself, and in the process, he’d controlled her, though she might not have realized it. All in all, sexual preferences aside, he was experienced enough to know that she was innocent, and that delightful mix of timidity and hot sensuality had him hard and more than ready.

  And here he’d considered Cuther, Indiana a dull place. He grinned. With Becky Harte wandering loose, there was nothing dull about it. Since first meeting her, he’d wanted her. Against his better judgment and her apparent disinterest, he’d wanted her.

  Now he’d finally have her.

  George watched her pick up and examine a black velvet blindfold with shaking fingers. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, then lifted her chin, tucked the box under her arm, and moved on to the handcuffs.

  His thoughts mired in carnal speculation, George followed.

  If she wanted to wear a blindfold, that was fine and dandy with him. He liked her big blue eyes, but it was her body he was dying to see.

  Maybe it would help her to hide, to not see what he was seeing. He realized now that much of her past reticence was due to inexperience. Her shock at the items sold in Wild Honey had proven that.

  Or maybe she liked the idea of being blindfolded because she thought it would heighten the sense of touch and anticipation. Maybe it would feed her need to be controlled. George shrugged. He would happily oblige her.

  He’d leave her wanting more.

  When Cameron, another supervisor at the factory, had first approached him with this bizarre plan, George had been skeptical. He assumed Cameron had seen his lust for Becky, and was pulling a joke on him.

  Cameron was due to marry Becky’s friend, Asia, and he’d claimed the women had some goofy dare going that was centered around the porn shop. Cameron had refused to reveal the details behind his and Asia’s circumstances, but he had explained that it was Becky’s turn, and Asia wanted to make sure Becky wasn’t hurt.

  George wanted to make sure, too.

  Both Cameron and Asia thought that by ens
uring Becky’s partner—him—they could protect her from other, more unscrupulous men. Smart. The thought of Becky going off with anyone else set George on edge.

  She’d been unattainable, a fantasy, for too long. Now that he was part of this plan, he’d already begun to think of her in his bed, already begun to imagine all the carnal fun he’d give her. Until she indulged his craving for her, he damn sure didn’t want any other man touching her.

  After they were through…well, he just didn’t know, didn’t want to think about that right now. The idea of Becky getting down and dirty with anyone else felt repugnant.

  Cameron had told George that if he was willing—ha—he was to meet Becky at the shop and show an interest in bondage wares. That had nearly floored him, but Cameron, damn him, had been so blasé about the whole thing, George had refused to show his shock.

  Becky Harte and bondage—a combination guaranteed to give any guy a steel boner.

  Now he was beyond glad he’d taken up the challenge. Bondage wasn’t something he’d explored much in the past, but hey, if that’s what it took to finally get Becky into bed, he was willing, able, and ready. Actually, now that he’d thought about it—and he hadn’t been able to think about much else—having Becky tied to his bed appealed to him in a dozen different ways.

  “There’s so much to choose from.”

  George watched the expressions flicker across her face when he asked, “Do you want it rough or gentle?”

  Her eyes widened comically before she gathered herself. She cleared her throat and made a point of not looking at him. “I don’t think the idea is for anyone to be roughed up, do you?”

  That was a relief. He wasn’t into manhandling women at all. Just the opposite. Once he had Becky bound, he’d worship her body until she cried with the pleasure of it. He could hardly wait.

  “How about the velvet cuffs? They close with Velcro, so they’ll be quick and easy to use.” And he’d have her snared before she even knew what he was doing.

  His cock throbbed with that thought and the accompanying image of Becky spread-eagle, naked atop his mattress, taut, trembling, waiting for what he’d do to her.