Dance With The Devil (Devil's Riders 4)

“Okay .”

I picked her up and carried her down the hall to the bedroom .

“Where are we going ?”

“ To talk .”

“In your bedroom ?”

I smiled at her .

“Yes. In our bedroom .”

The door was shut so I kicked it open, carrying her to my bed. She was flat on her back and staring at me in shock when I lashed her arm to the headboard .

“What are you …”

Time was of the essence so I moved fast. I wanted a captive audience and this was the only way I could think to get it. Plus, I knew how to wind her up. All I had to do was get her turned on and wanting me. She would see that we belonged together, all under one roof .

I had her other arm secured before she could even finish the sentence. I was a big guy but my time in the Marines had taught me to move fast. To seize opportunity when it presented itself .

To win .

“…doing ?”

I busied myself with tying her ankles to the footboard and then sat beside her. I fished in bottom drawer of the bedside table for a pair of scissors. Not that I did this often (or ever), but I happened to keep my mom’s sewing kit in there .

It was perfect for repairing buttons .

It was also perfect for cutting someone’s clothes off them when they were spread-eagle. I needed her clothes off so I could work my magic… Becky was going to say yes to moving in with me .

And she was going to say it tonight .

Come hell or high water .

“You were right. We do need to talk, and this is how we’re going to do it .”

“This is crazy! Why do I have to be tied up ?”

“Because I want you to have plenty of time to really think about what I’m saying .”

“We’re just going to talk ?”

She looked a little disappointed at that. But I was gonna make sure she’d be smiling by morning .

I just smiled and left to get a glass of water .

And a bowl of ice chips .

And whipped cream for sustenance, if I had any .

It was going to be a very long night and I needed to keep my strength up .

Chapter Thirty -Four

Becky

I tugged at the bonds holding my wrists again. Nothing. Not even an inch of wiggle room, though they weren’t uncomfortable. Whiskey must have been a boy scout back in the day .

Damn it .

What the heck was he thinking ?

I grumbled against the bandana he’d put in my mouth. I could make noises but it was impossible to actually pronounce anything. I kept trying anyway .

I tried to say ‘how are we supposed to talk’ but it came out ‘huh duhduhduh blalk .’

Not dignified .

Now, I wasn’t opposed to a kinky sex game by any stretch of the imagination, but Whiskey had a look in his eye that was making me a little nervous. He looked determined .

He looked really, really determined .

And wicked .

I swallowed, watching him roll his shirt sleeves up his thick, tanned forearms. I was already turned on and he hadn’t even started. I blamed his arms for that .

A man’s forearms were one of his best parts, in my humble opinion. And his were thick and tanned with a few sexy scars thrown in as a bonus. The hair was golden from countless hours riding in the sun .

Gorgous arms. Stunning even. Manly perfection in motion. And now he was putting them on display, inches away. I had a strange urge to reach forward with my tongue and lick those sexy forearms .

Damn it again .

He sat next to me and looked me over, like he was considering something. He ran his hands over my body methodically, which felt amazing, but he didn’t do it long enough to feel extra super duper amazing .

So I was left wanting more .

Much, much more .

Until he pulled out a pair of scissors .

“I can untie your legs to save the jeans you are wearing, or I can cut them off you .”

He smiled at me like he was offering me a bowl of ice cream, not to destroy my favorite jeans. I shouted at him through the gag, which did absolutely nothing. It didn’t even dent his smile .

“Will you be a good girl while I get these off the civilized way ?”

I nodded vigorously. I was curious about what he was up to, but I was not about to go through the hell of finding another pair of those jeans I loved from two years ago! They were a little tight, but they’d molded to my body by now, and that only happened every once in a while. Perfect fitting jeans were not easy to find for a curvy girl like me .