Unwrapped

“I’m sorry,” he said, and never had it been more true. He’d only wanted to make a grand gesture. Something over the top and sexy, with that little added tinge of fear. Maybe he'd hoped that would allow him to control her too—just long enough to get her to listen to reason.

His reason. And that was just as wrong as the rest.

She was still quivering, though her tears had halted. He tugged back the hood of his sweatshirt, but it didn’t make a difference. She still looked at him as if he were a stranger.

“Why?” she whispered, and that word sounded as if it had been wrested from her soul. “Why would you do this?”

“Will you come with me?” he asked, knowing he was on the thinnest ice ever.

“Where?”

Matt lifted his fingers to stroke her cheekbone. Her expression had already shifted from scared to speculative. Though she was still wary, her body relaxed against his.

Small progress.

“Do you trust me, Cait?”

“I don’t know.”

Her quick reply made a rumble of laughter rise up in his chest. She wasn’t the only one dealing with the aftereffects of a serious spike of emotion. “My plan was to grab you, throw you in the SUV, and tie you up,” he said in a low voice. “Gag you, maybe even blindfold you. And it was a good plan, until I had you in my arms and you damn near killed me.”

She didn’t smile. “Do you have any idea how frightened I was? That’s every woman’s worst nightmare to be grabbed off the street.”

“I thought you’d get off on it. Eventually. The complete loss of power, being under a man’s total control—”

“We aren’t in a bedroom, Matt! We’re on a city street, and I had no clue it was you. I thought I was going to die,” she said, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, cradling her face in his hands as he had since college whenever she was upset. They’d been friends forever, and he’d comforted her so many times when she cried. But he’d never been the cause of her tears before. “You know I love you.” Fear fisted his throat. “That I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

“So why do you keep doing it?”

“Because I’m an idiot. Completely.” Only having her shaking in his arms had driven that point home. He’d been thinking with his overeager dick, not his head.

Tristan never would’ve let him get away with this stunt. And for good reason.

“He’s in on it too?” she asked, almost as if she could read his mind.

“No.” Matt shook his head. "He didn’t know my plans. You know how he is with you. You’re his precious Caity Bait.”

He’d hoped to make her smile, but she didn’t. Good job, asshole.

“This was all me,” he continued into the silence. “You kept telling me about those pirate dreams, and I thought you’d be a little scared, yeah, but turned on more.”

“Turned on by being kidnapped? In a dark alley? Have you been reading bodice rippers or something?” She punched him in the shoulder, eliciting a wince. But he didn't deflect the blow. He deserved it and more. “I was terrified. And I can tell you in all honesty, I was not aroused.”

“How about now?”

Her eyes narrowed, but he saw the beginnings of a smile twitch on her lips. “There is something very wrong with me that I love you.”

He brushed his mouth over her temple and just breathed in her scents. Her erotically chaste peach blossom lotion combined with the ripe scent of her skin, seducing him effortlessly. “Agreed. But I’m beyond grateful that you do. And I want to repay you, with interest. Let me create the fantasy for you I should’ve given you a choice in to start with.”

“What kind of fantasy? First you kidnap me. Then you tie me up. What comes next? Raping and pillaging?”

“Depends. That can be arranged. Well, not the raping part. I insist on consent.”

Taking a chance, he stepped away to open the passenger door of his SUV. He reached inside and withdrew the length of black silk bondage rope he’d left coiled on the seat. Pulling it through his hands, he turned back and cocked his head. From her quick inhalation, she wasn’t totally against the idea.

“Just your hands,” he said. “Unless you want ankles too.”