Just in Time by Rosalind James Page B

and a few hairs were stuck to her cheek, next to that mole over her lip. Having her hands tied like that was thrusting her breasts out towards him, and he reached out despite himself and brushed the hair back. His thumb traced the little mole, because he was only human, and what man would have been able to resist that?
    “Good,” he said. “And I really, really want to kiss you again. Could you remind me again why we can’t?”
    Her eyes had widened, and her lips had parted, and he didn’t have to look down to know that her nipples had hardened under the T-shirt, because he could see it out of the corner of his eye, and if this kept on much longer, he was going to be embarrassing himself.
    “Because…” She swallowed hard, and he saw it. “Because you’re leaving. And you don’t stick anyway.”
    “Oh, yeh,” he sighed. “That. Honesty’s a bugger, eh.”
    She laughed a little, just a breath out, swallowed again, then turned her back to him. “Untie me. Please.”
    He put a hand on her shoulder, felt her tremble a bit under his touch, and, with a Herculean effort, pulled the end of the red ribbon, untwisted it from around her wrists, and handed it back to her. “Changed my mind,” he told her. “I’m not exploring this shop with you, because one little ribbon, and you’re killing me. I get you in the vibrator section, and…no.”
    “Really?” She looked surprised, and pleased, he could’ve sworn, and then she hurried on. “Well, I just need to grab a couple more things, and we can go. And no, there’s no way I’m going to be looking at vibrators with you. I don’t even know what they look like, to tell you the truth, and I don’t think today’s the day to find out.”
    “You’ve never…” He stopped, then tried again. “You’ve never owned a vibrator? Don’t most women?”
    She closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again, and said, “I cannot believe I’m having this conversation. I don’t know. It’s not something I generally discuss with my friends.”
    “You don’t—” he began, then stopped.
    She crossed her arms. “I don’t what? Now you’re the one who can’t finish a sentence. And I can’t figure out what kind of person you think I am.”
    “Because I can’t figure it out myself,” he found himself confessing. “You’ve had me on the back foot since the day I met you, and no mistake. I think I’m ahead, and then there I am, rocking back again. Sucker-punched.”
    She didn’t answer that, and he never did find out why she’d never owned a vibrator, or even seen one. Seriously? Because she was repressed, or because she could get there without help? He was getting an idea which it was, but he wanted to know for sure. No, he wanted to learn . For himself.
    He wanted it, and he wanted it bad. He wanted to buy that box, tie her to his bed, take off her clothes so slowly, and find out just how much he could make her scream by the time he was done. And he wouldn’t be using any vibrator.
    He could see her there. He could very nearly feel her there, and he was dying.
    But he didn’t get any of it. Instead, they checked out a few minutes later with her red ribbon, a couple pink scarves just to be on the safe side, black and red satin blindfolds, and the worst case of sexual frustration he’d experienced since he was fourteen.
    He leaned his head against the seat of her truck with a groan when they were on their way back to the apartment building at last. “Next time you go to the naughty shop?” he told her. “Leave me at home.”
    The smile was playing around her pretty mouth, trying to escape. “I can’t say that was the most comfortable experience of my life, either. And we haven’t even gotten to the tying-up scenes yet.”
    “Trust me. Holding Gretchen when she’s tied up? That’ll be a doddle compared to what you and I just did. They say the dress rehearsal’s the hardest bit, and I reckon they’re right. If I’m going to be rehearsing with