A grand for a night’s ‘work’. Not bad, not bad at all. But the moment businesswoman Asia Kendell allows Ritter’s buddies to wrap her nude and eager body in red rope, she’s forced to ask herself what the heck she’s gotten herself into. Granted, Ritter is both a famous ex professional baseball player and a class A hunk, but what insanity made her agree to be the main and only course at his birthday party? Darn it, looks as if there’s nothing to do except get through the night, hopefully without her libido short circuiting.
As for Ritter, what red-blooded man could keep his hands off the delicious naked bow-tied package waiting for him in this made-for-sex hotel room?
Not him, Sometimes a man gets exactly the gift he asks for.
Excerpt
“You and Mike have lost your ever-loving minds.”
“That might be. Damn but I wish I could see your expression right now. Have you seen her?”
“Her?” Sharp, tiny teeth of either apprehension or anticipation nipped at his spinal column. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t. She’s there all right. You just have to go looking for the ultimate in gifts. One thing-she’s exactly and everything you said you wanted.”
“You didn’t!”
“Hey, what are best friends for? One sex slave tied up in a bow and delivered.” With that, Mike hung up.
Ritter’s first impulse was to beat a hasty retreat. If he never laid eyes on the woman in question, he could pretend the whole thing had been a bad dream. Only, even if it was a dream, he couldn’t honestly call it bad, could he? Besides, his cock was demanding he satisfy its curiosity.
Tied in a bow?
Walking on the dense, long carpet reminded him of what it had felt like to run onto a natural turf baseball field after a heavy rain, which might have something to do with energy charging through him. He’d been joking when he’d yammered on about his desire for his own living, breathing sex toy, and yet he hadn’t. Sometimes, usually as he was falling asleep, he gave his mind the freedom to play with possibilities. Responsibilities be damned. Modern law be doubly damned.
Fantasy full steam ahead.
She, if there really was a she, obviously wasn’t on the bed, and she hadn’t been on the couch. She might be behind the door he figured led to the bathroom, but if the faint sound he’d heard was a clue, he didn’t think she was that far away.
There it was again. Near the bed. Something brushing against something. Zeroing in on the exact location as his experienced catcher’s eyes had once locked onto a foul tip, he looked down at what he figured was the foot of the bed.
A lump, a mound, a shape. Not particularly large. Not moving.
His heart responded with a crazy series of thumps, and his groin tightened. Something locked down inside him. A well-worn door born of a lifetime as a modern man closed, while a bright and overwhelming and wild one opened. Even as his eyes worked to make sense of what they’d discovered, he turned his back on thirty-three years of modern civilized behavior.
The shape belonged to a woman all right. Unless the red ropes circling her wrists and ankles counted, she wore absolutely nothing. Someone had gagged her with an orange ball that filled her mouth, held in place via a leather strap that went around the back of her head, making a bit of a mess of her shoulder-length hair. She had on a dark blindfold.
This was his best friends’ birthday present.