He nods as he reaches between my legs and threads the rope, loops it around my back and back through my legs again. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning aloud.

Dear God, how is it possible that I’m this turned on just because he’s wrapped me up in some rope?

Finally, he ties a knot, making it blend in with the rest, so you can’t tell where the rope begins or ends, and stands back, crosses his arms over his chest and gently runs the tip of his forefinger over his bottom lip as his eyes rake up and down my body. His bright blue eyes are hot with lust and need as they meet mine. His breath is coming faster, matching mine, and I swear to the bondage gods, I feel an inexplicable pull from my gut to his.

If he doesn’t touch me—truly touch me—soon, I’m going to spontaneously combust.

Finally, he slowly moves to me, cups my face in his hands and kisses my forehead, before whispering, “Do you belong to anyone?”

The question should piss me off, but I’m so caught up in his spell, I can only shake my head no.

“Nic,” he whispers and kisses the corner of my mouth, then sweeps his lips down my jawline to my ear. “I don’t typically come on this strong, but I want to fuck the shit out of you right now.”

My breath catches and eyes widen as I lean back to look him in the eye.

Tell him no! Run away! Jesus, what kind of sick pervert says something like that?

But, instead, I find myself licking my lips and leaning toward him. “I live three blocks away.”

He tears his gaze away from mine and nods at his colleague, grips my upper arm in his strong hand and leads me beside him, not behind him, toward the door.

“Wait! My friend…”

“Is right over there,” he says calmly, pointing through the crowd. Bailey is watching us with a knowing grin and gives me a thumbs-up and an obvious wink. “See? She’s fine.”

“Hold on.” I dig my heels in and pull us both to a stop. “You could be an ax murderer. A junkie. A rapist.”

His lips twitch, and he sighs as he sinks his fingers through my long hair, pushing it off my shoulder. “Good girl.”

“So, I’ll see you around…”

“Stop,” he commands softly, and I immediately obey, my feet betraying every instinct I have to keep going.

He walks to me, wraps one arm around my back and grips my bound wrists, holding me close to him. With just that one touch, my body flares to life, and I can’t help but press myself even closer against him.

He chuckles and brushes my nose with his. “I haven’t felt this physically attuned to anyone in a very long time. I promise you, I’m no criminal.” And with that, he covers my lips with his and sinks into me, exploring my lips, nibbling and tasting me, and I melt against him, submitting to his every desire.

I can’t move my arms, and I desperately want to circle them around his neck, grip his hair in my fists and hold him to me. Instead, I press my chest to his and moan as his tongue plunders my mouth. He wraps his other arm around me and presses his pelvis against my stomach, making me well aware of his erection.

Fuck, he’s sexy.

“It’s your call,” he whispers.

“Let’s go.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice as he leads me out to his BMW and settles me into the passenger seat, buckling me in with my arms pinned behind me. It’s uncomfortable, and I have to lean away from the back of the seat, but I’m so damn turned on right now I don’t even care.

He smiles wolfishly before kissing my cheek. “I like seeing you restrained like this.”

Before I can respond, he shuts the door, hops into the driver’s seat and speeds away.

“Three blocks down on the left,” I instruct him.

“Above that bakery?” he asks and points.

“Yes. Nice car.”

“It was a gift,” he replies carelessly as he parks.

Who in the hell gives someone a car as a gift?

He finds parking and leads me up the stairs at the side of my building.

“You’ll have to pull my key out of my purse,” I murmur, turning so he can access my purse.

“Digging in a woman’s purse always makes me nervous,” he confesses with a grin. “My mother would have cut our hands off if we dared open her bag.”

“Well, I’m a bit tied up here,” I respond with a smile.

“That you are,” he replies as he finds my keys and opens my door. He lays my bag and keys on my table and leads me deeper into my apartment toward my bedroom.

“A couple of guidelines,” he murmurs gently. “If you say ‘no’ or ‘stop,’ it all ends immediately. I’m not a sadist, so I don’t want you to hurt. But you will do as I say, without question.” He leans down and pins me in those ice-blue eyes. “Are we clear?”

“I don’t have a say?”

“I didn’t say that. If you are in pain or uncomfortable, you say so. But I’m going to make very sure that you’re not.” He grins, pushes a finger in the ropes that cross between my breasts and tugs me to him.

“Do I need a safe word?” I ask.

“‘No’ is your safe word, little one.”

“Okay,” I whisper just before his mouth finds mine again. His mouth is hard and frantic, urgent. This is going to be fast and hard, and oh my God, I can hardly wait.

We reach my bedroom, and he flips on the bedside lamp, sending a soft glow through the room.