electricity rolled down his dick and flashed like lightning through the rest of his system.
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to dial, let alone talk, with your mouth on me.”
“Mmm.” She parted her lips a fraction and let her tongue dart out to lick his sensitive flesh. “That could be a problem. Maybe we should wait until after we’ve eaten to participate in more . . . interesting activities.”
But instead of stopping, instead of pulling away, she opened her mouth even wider and engulfed him by a full inch.
Though he didn’t know how he retained the ability to speak, he managed a wobbly, “I like the sound of that.”
Tugging once more at his arm, he tried to touch her face, tried to run his fingers through her hair, but his hand wouldn’t budge.
He frowned. What the hell was going on? Why couldn’t he move his right arm?
He gave up on the right and tried to lift the left. Same problem. Same dogged resistance.
Okay, this was getting ridiculous.
He rolled his head on the pillow, first to one side, then to the other, in an effort to see what was holding him back. There was something there, he knew it, but his eyes wouldn’t seem to focus. And the more he tried to clear his vision, the worse it got.
He returned his gaze to Jenna, who still hovered above him. Their surroundings were different now, though. He could no longer hear the waves lapping outside the open balcony door or smell the fresh scent of the island breeze. The four walls surrounding him didn’t look like those of the hotel room where they’d honeymooned, but were darker, plainer, and closing in on him.
Mind searching for an explanation, he turned his attention back to Jenna. Something felt strange. Wrong.And suddenly Jenna didn’t just look sexy, wanton, and desirable, she also looked . . . guilty.
“What did you do?” he asked, brows knitting as the words came out slurred. “What did you do?”
Purl 4
Jenna didn’t know whether to continue or run off in a panic. The pills in the beer had worked just the way Grace said they would, but now Gage seemed to be coming around.
On the one hand, that was good—it meant he would be more physically able to respond to her touch.
Not that she had much doubt about him in that respect; she knew Gage’s body well enough to know he could be in a coma and would still likely react to her caressing his junk.
On the other hand, being awake and lucid meant he might begin to put two and two together, figure out what she was up to . . . and take the house apart in a blind rage. She’d seen Gage angry before—never at her, thank goodness—and it hadn’t been pretty. But she knew his strength, and she knew he wouldn’t take kindly to being tricked or manipulated.
Swallowing hard, she ignored the trickle of self-consciousness that niggled at her and double-checked the ties at his wrists.
“I didn’t do anything,” she lied in what she hopedwas a soothing, believable whisper. “Now relax, the fun is just beginning.”
He shook his head where it rested on the white pillow, his arms pinned above him, tied to either side of the headboard with a couple of her hand-knit boas. One of them was purple and not quite finished, started with the homespun alpaca yarn Aunt Charlotte had given her before leaving. The other, and the two binding his ankles to the footboard, were ones she’d brought along from home. Grace had helped her set them up and then tuck them unobtrusively under the bedding before taking off with Ronnie, so that all Jenna had to do after drugging Gage and luring him into the bedroom was secure him with the already prepared restraints.
It all felt so bad and manipulative and . . .
wrong
to Jenna on several levels, but she and Grace and Ronnie had discussed the situation
ad nauseum
, with no other solution coming to mind. Add to that the nearly two years of wishing, dreaming, regretting, and basically circling around to the very same conclusion
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to dial, let alone talk, with your mouth on me.”
“Mmm.” She parted her lips a fraction and let her tongue dart out to lick his sensitive flesh. “That could be a problem. Maybe we should wait until after we’ve eaten to participate in more . . . interesting activities.”
But instead of stopping, instead of pulling away, she opened her mouth even wider and engulfed him by a full inch.
Though he didn’t know how he retained the ability to speak, he managed a wobbly, “I like the sound of that.”
Tugging once more at his arm, he tried to touch her face, tried to run his fingers through her hair, but his hand wouldn’t budge.
He frowned. What the hell was going on? Why couldn’t he move his right arm?
He gave up on the right and tried to lift the left. Same problem. Same dogged resistance.
Okay, this was getting ridiculous.
He rolled his head on the pillow, first to one side, then to the other, in an effort to see what was holding him back. There was something there, he knew it, but his eyes wouldn’t seem to focus. And the more he tried to clear his vision, the worse it got.
He returned his gaze to Jenna, who still hovered above him. Their surroundings were different now, though. He could no longer hear the waves lapping outside the open balcony door or smell the fresh scent of the island breeze. The four walls surrounding him didn’t look like those of the hotel room where they’d honeymooned, but were darker, plainer, and closing in on him.
Mind searching for an explanation, he turned his attention back to Jenna. Something felt strange. Wrong.And suddenly Jenna didn’t just look sexy, wanton, and desirable, she also looked . . . guilty.
“What did you do?” he asked, brows knitting as the words came out slurred. “What did you do?”
Purl 4
Jenna didn’t know whether to continue or run off in a panic. The pills in the beer had worked just the way Grace said they would, but now Gage seemed to be coming around.
On the one hand, that was good—it meant he would be more physically able to respond to her touch.
Not that she had much doubt about him in that respect; she knew Gage’s body well enough to know he could be in a coma and would still likely react to her caressing his junk.
On the other hand, being awake and lucid meant he might begin to put two and two together, figure out what she was up to . . . and take the house apart in a blind rage. She’d seen Gage angry before—never at her, thank goodness—and it hadn’t been pretty. But she knew his strength, and she knew he wouldn’t take kindly to being tricked or manipulated.
Swallowing hard, she ignored the trickle of self-consciousness that niggled at her and double-checked the ties at his wrists.
“I didn’t do anything,” she lied in what she hopedwas a soothing, believable whisper. “Now relax, the fun is just beginning.”
He shook his head where it rested on the white pillow, his arms pinned above him, tied to either side of the headboard with a couple of her hand-knit boas. One of them was purple and not quite finished, started with the homespun alpaca yarn Aunt Charlotte had given her before leaving. The other, and the two binding his ankles to the footboard, were ones she’d brought along from home. Grace had helped her set them up and then tuck them unobtrusively under the bedding before taking off with Ronnie, so that all Jenna had to do after drugging Gage and luring him into the bedroom was secure him with the already prepared restraints.
It all felt so bad and manipulative and . . .
wrong
to Jenna on several levels, but she and Grace and Ronnie had discussed the situation
ad nauseum
, with no other solution coming to mind. Add to that the nearly two years of wishing, dreaming, regretting, and basically circling around to the very same conclusion
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