His brown eyes stared into hers, and she saw the moment desire crushed the reasons on his I-­shouldn’t-­take-­Kat-­to-­bed list.

Not just desire, she thought. This man cares about ­people, from his family to the total strangers he rescues. If you ask, he’ll set aside his reservations. He’ll crush the god-­awful memories. He’ll make you feel wanted tonight. And maybe the night after that . . .

Her body warmed to the thought. A mental picture of Brody’s naked body hovering over hers formed in her mind.

But what if he claimed more than her body?

No, she had to draw the line at fantasy sex. To invest in another person’s life, to trust in them knowing feelings changed and shifted—­she couldn’t travel that road. In the back of her mind she would always be counting down the days until she hit 457, the maximum number of days the state allowed a minor to remain with one foster family. She’d always be waiting for the cycle to end. It was better if she kept an eye on the door. If she started hoping that it would stay closed, that this time she’d finally found a place for her heart to call home . . .

No. She already had a home. New York. And there was Brianna to consider. One day that little girl might open up and let Kat in. Not to mention her job—­

“Close your eyes.” He issued the command with an undertone of sensual promise, and she obeyed, blocking the runaway what-­ifs. Because tonight just might take the route she desired—­straight back to the bedroom.

She heard him open what she suspected was the glove box. Placing a hand on her waist, he turned her around.

“Keep them closed,” he warned.

Fabric touched her face and she jumped at the unexpected. “You’re blindfolding me?”

“Yes.”

She felt his fingers w

orking at the back of her head, tying a knot in what a quick peek told her was a bandanna. Then his hand took hers. He guided her into the front seat of his truck and secured her seat belt.

“Brody Summers, you’re full of surprises,” she said, fascinated by the way she heard every detail of his movements as he settled into the truck.

“At the hotel the other night, you told me swimming would help. Consider this my version of a dip in the pool,” he said as the pickup shifted beneath her, making a right hand turn out of the lot. “Ready to hear my plan?”

“Take-­out Chinese? I love lo mein after sex,” she said as they accelerated. Wait, were they merging onto the highway? She touched the side of the bandanna, determined to steal a peek.

“Dinner will be a surprise.” He drew her hand away from her face and placed it back in her lap. “But for dessert, I picture you in my bed.”

“Might be messy,” she murmured, her excitement unwinding, rushing to the parts of her body begging to know what happened next.

“Not the way I see it,” he said. “Your arms stretched out overhead, your wrists tied. Whip cream between your breasts waiting to be licked clean.”

“That’s one way to enjoy dessert.” She shifted, her thighs rubbing together. The combination of the blindfold and his words left her flat-­out aching for him.

“It might be better if I turn you over, tie your legs to the bedpost,” he said. “I can picture you lying there while my fingers leave a trail of cream up the back of your calves, a touch in the curve of your knee, a dash on the back of your thighs. I’d start at the bottom and lick you clean.”

“My hands?” The words escaped on an exhale, her chest rising and falling as her breathing detoured from calm and collected to erratic and wanting.

“Free to press into the mattress, lift your ass in the air and ask for more.”

And oh God help her, his voice was a low growl.

She felt the truck merge right, slowing down then pulling to an abrupt stop. “Where are we?”

“Salem,” he said.

“What?” How on earth had they ended up in the state capital when all the signs indicated a joyride leading straight to bed and bondage?

“You can take the blindfold off,” he added, a hint of humor replacing his rough, needy tone.

Kat ripped off the bandanna. She blinked her eyes, adjusting to the soft light of dusk. Cars lined the city street. Salem was a world away from Manhattan when it came to metropolitan areas, but it wasn’t Independence Falls. She couldn’t demand an orgasm in the front seat of his pickup and expect no one would notice.

“Turn the truck around,” she ordered.

Tags: Sara Jane Stone Independence Falls Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net