Only Trick

OH SHIT!

He sets me down with my ass backed up to the sofa, my chest heaving, eyes wide.

“Do you love me?”

I swallow and nod.

“Do you trust me?”

My gaze falters.

“Darby?” He lifts my chin with his finger.

“Do. You. Trust. Me?”

Another swallow, another nod.

“Good.” He lifts my yoga top over my head, wetting his lips as he stares at my breasts. Then he pulls down my pants, leaving me naked. His lips skim up my legs, stopping at my sex, but all he does is just breathe out causing my legs to pinch closer together. Then he inhales. Standing, he watches me—daring me to run again. “It’s my job as your husband to bring you unfathomable pleasure. Understood?”

A slow nod.

“Good.” He takes the belt and binds my hands in front of me.

I’ve been tied up before, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m a little surprised he doesn’t ask me if it’s okay.

“Turn.”

I stare at him for a moment. Then I slowly turn. He ties the robe belts around the back legs of the sofa.

“Spread ’em.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. He looks up with a don’t-make-me-ask-you-again look. Sighing, I spread my legs and he ties them with the opposite ends of the anchored belts. Placing his palm flat on my back, he pushes me forward.

“Bend over.”

I bend over.

“Fucking perfect.”

“Trick!” I yell as two of his fingers plunge into me with unexpected surprise.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“Trick …” I try to tip my pelvis into his touch.

He pumps his fingers into me a few times then removes them. “Just as I suspected … an overflowing ten.”

I can’t see him, but I feel his cocky grin and if I know my dirty husband, he’s sucking my juices off his fingers this very moment. But my body doesn’t have time to relish in his kinkiness because there’s a knock at the door.

“Trick—”

He leans over me, running his tongue along my shoulder. “Shh … Don’t. Move,” he whispers. Is he blind to the fact that I’m tied up! Where the hell am I going to go?

I’ll admit, this isn’t how I imagined our day going when we made love last night for the first time as husband and wife. If this is day two of our marriage, what’s he leaving on the Spice Things Up list twenty years from now?

There’s a chattering of muffled voices. I assume Trick’s getting rid of a neighbor or something, but he’s taking his leisurely time. I think I’m going to tie him naked to the couch later then leave to go shopping.

My body goes rigid as the voices get closer.

“Wait!” I hear Trick yell.

No! No! No!

“Well, what do we have here?”

Grady.

I close my eyes and die with zero dignity.

“Trick, now aren’t you a boy after my own heart. Looks like we both like ’em tied to the sofa, bare ass up.”

“Out!” Trick grinds through clenched teeth as he releases my legs with quick hands.

An animal cut loose from a trap, I sprint upstairs not bothering to let him release my wrists. Collapsing on our bed, I bury my head in my pillow; emotions warring between screaming or crying. So I do both.

“Shh …” The side of the bed dips as gentle hands release my wrists. Trick pulls me up onto his lap, and I bury my face into his bare chest.

“I want a divorce.”

He kisses my hair and chuckles. “Never.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry. I share the blame.”

My head snaps back. “You share the blame?”

Trick’s lips twist to the side and he nods. “Had I not had your ankles tied so tight you would have been able to escape before they came in.”

“They?”

“Grady and Tamsen.”

“Tamsen was downstairs? She saw me like—ahh!” I pound my fists against his chest. “We are over … over … over … over …”

He hugs me tight, pinning my arms between us. “Tamsen’s a girl. You’re being modest for no good reason.”

I try to twist and wriggle out of his hold. “It’s not modesty, you idiot! They didn’t just see me naked, they saw me tied to the sofa. They saw my ass crack spread open. THEY SAW MY ASS CRACK SPREAD OPEN!”

He releases me from his grip with my final outburst and I stumble to a stand.

“But it was a beautiful ass crack, sweetie! Like a breathtaking eclipse!” Grady calls from downstairs.

“Oh my God!” I close my eyes and let my head fall into my hands.

“Get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“I hate you!”

“You love me.” He kisses the top of my head then walks out the door.”

“I hate you!” I call a little louder.

“You love me!”

Chapter Thirty-Three

This beats the sex in the supply closet humiliation tenfold. I throw on some clothes and walk to the top of the stairs then back to our bedroom a half dozen times, but I can’t make myself go downstairs. So I’m going to sit on our bed and wait for them to leave, whether it’s in an hour or a week.