Handcuffed in Housewares: Tulle and Tulips, Book 3 Read online

  “You should’ve sent him a condolences arrangement. Sounds like he deserves whatever he gets.”

  Burton laughed. It started low and built into a rolling laugh that shook his body, the bed and her. His laughter lit a spark in her libido.

  “Man, I wish I’d have had you around when I left her. You would’ve made it more fun.”

  “I suspect you preferred the kind of fun I’m not built for.”

  “You weren’t exactly dull the other night.”

  “If I was so great…” She trailed off, afraid to ask what she couldn’t get out of her head.

  Burton leaned forward, supporting himself on her thighs. The look in his eyes said he wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t. “I didn’t call you because I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

  I didn’t think you’d want me to. He said it so plainly, as if he was surprised to learn differently. “Why would you think that?”

  “You made a pretty quick exit after I asked you to stay.”

  She flashed back to that night, to what he’d said after the third round of orgasms. I could tie you up and keep you forever. It had been too much too fast. He’d gotten too intense and then hadn’t called because he’d misread her need for an escape. She’d thought he found her too dull; he’d thought she found him too risky.

  Maybe they’d both been as wrong as they’d been right. He could stand to take less risks. She could stand to take more.

  “I wasn’t sure how to handle you.” She winked, hoping to lighten the mood. “I have a better grip on things now.”

  “You mean on me, or yourself?”

  He was the easy answer, but before “you” trembled from her tongue she reconsidered. Her friends had been right to say she could use more spark in her life. She’d felt more alive during the time spent with him than she had in years. Being apart from him, despite how recently they’d met, had left her with an emptiness she’d only recognized when he opened the front door and took her hand.

  They’d spent one night together. When she showed up on his porch late at night they ended up talking about his ex. It wasn’t exactly a normal way to start anything. Suddenly though, the answer was easy. “Us.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Burton pulled her hands back to his thighs and squeezed lightly.

  Still squeezing Leigh’s hands, he pulled her hands to his hips. The move gave her no choice but to lean forward. He stared into her eyes with the intention to kiss her a naked declaration.

  His mouth, his kisses and wanting more, had kept her driving every time she’d considered turning the car around. They’d been the motivation she needed to get out and walk to his door. Then he’d called her and she’d been helpless against the idea of feeling him, tasting him, again.

  “Burton.”

  He released her hands and placed his on the mattress on either side of her hips. Leaning across the few lingering inches, he kissed her. Like the first time he didn’t plunge and plunder, though she wouldn’t argue if he did. Seduction seemed to be his natural style, which possibly made him more dangerous than any risk-loving player. He didn’t ask for anything kinky and crazy, which only made her want to give it to him.

  “You’re stunning.” He pressed tiny kisses to the corners of her mouth and along the lines of her cheekbones.

  “You’re not shabby.” The lack of pressure from him became a pressing weight of need in her stomach.

  “Will you stay the night?” He moved his attention to her neck, lingered at the edge of her collar.

  Shivers painted her body in shades of brilliance. Passion and fire. Warm and enticing. Denying Burton and the demands of her body might be the smart move, yet it wasn’t what she wanted. It was the last thing she wanted.

  “I have an early meeting.”

  “I have a reliable alarm clock.”

  It was all the encouragement she needed to stay and indulge in a little thrill. Kissing him like he had her, she feathered soft touches along his face. When she reached his ear she shifted from light kisses to the lightest of nibbles on his lobe. “Your blinds.”

  “Are closed,” he whispered.

  “Would you enjoy it more if they were open?”

  “Not particularly.”

  His lips curled against her neck. “Besides, my room faces the oncoming street more directly than the office.”

  She held his lobe and pulled gently with her teeth, extending the soft flesh almost to its max. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Are you saying you’d be okay with it if I preferred them open? Someone could see us.”

  She trembled. It was taboo and there was no way of knowing who might see them or how they would respond. With Burton’s mouth on her she didn’t care about the danger. The spark of his desire bled through her and inflamed her willingness to take the advice of her friends. “I think so, yes.”

  He pulled back and faced her. Studied her with an unblinking intensity. “Are you asking for this because you think it’s more exciting for me?”

  “Can you tell me it isn’t?” Yes. No. She wanted to hear both answers because both held a rush of possibilities.

  If he got more excited by the danger it would be an excuse to indulge the side of herself she’d locked down. The idea of him being more excited by having her to himself was just as delicious.

  “The thrill of being caught is tantalizing. The idea of wondering if your neighbors saw you would linger in the back of your mind every time you go to your mailbox.”

  He touched the underside of her chin with the tip of a finger and made sure she was looking into the depths of his brown gaze. He searched her eyes for her secrets, and the intensity of his search scorched a path into her heart until she was certain he’d read her mind.

  “You weren’t appalled when you found me in Hearth and Home.”

  She shook her head.

  “Surprised and a little embarrassed, but not turned off.” His finger flexed against her chin. He never blinked. “You’ve indulged in games before.”

  She nodded.

  “You got burned by whoever you trusted. That’s why you’re so conservative now.”

  Words wouldn’t come to her. She wasn’t even sure her voice would work if she could form a thought in her brain. She settled on a single nod.

  “And you’re willing to trust me.”

  She nodded again.

  He knew the truth; she knew there was no reason to deny it. It was in the simple silence of the moment, in the pause before he spoke next, that enlightenment made an appearance.

  She was willing to take risks with him because she trusted him.

  Tingles from his touches paled beneath the onslaught of truth. Her body and the world around her stalled and then jolted to life as if she’d been shocked. She felt alive, and in the danger of her realization she also felt safe.

  She cared for him. A lot.

  She barely knew him. They hadn’t spent enough time together to justify how deep her feelings may go, but there was no ignoring it. He’d shown her tenderness and patience and understanding. He’d apologized for comparing her to his ex. He’d been honest with her at every turn and now he was protecting her from exposing more of herself than she was entirely comfortable with.

  He was treating her the way Trevor and Jace treated Lori and Misty.

  He was the biggest threat to her security and the biggest thrill. If he figured out how much power he held there would be no escape.

  “Leigh, I don’t care about that as much as I think you think I do.” He shrugged the shrug of a man who accepted he was what he was—a man who liked sex. “I won’t deny that public displays can be fun, but knowing I and I alone have the honor of watching you give yourself over to an orgasm… There’s no bigger rush.”

  “Oh, God.” She swallowed. Her organs leapt into a thrilling dance that shot life into every molecule. “You don’t make things easy.”

  “Then let’s simplify them.” Smooth and confident, he took her shoulders in his strong hands and laid h
er back in front of him. Stretching out beside her, he traced a fingertip along the collar of her shirt, teasing her skin with only the occasional contact.

  “You’re beautiful.” He slid his finger over her chest and down her stomach. Flattening his palm on her stomach, she was sure he was going to untuck the shirt. He instead settled on rubbing her pelvis and hip.

  “I enjoy spending time with you.” Gripping her hip lightly, he rolled her to him and then slid his palm down her thigh. Cupping the back of her knee, he raised her leg over his.

  “I love having you naked and against me. Then there’s the thrill of your pussy squeezing me when I’m buried deep.”

  She shuddered and popped her hips forward, rubbed against the erection pressing against his jeans.

  “I’m also perfectly happy doing nothing other than make out with you. I could spend hours kissing you and seeing just how hot we can get before we implode.”

  Leigh flattened her hand over the bulge of his pecs. Her panties grew wetter and the seam of her pants pressed against her, enticing her. Every syllable he uttered in his smooth, seductive voice made her hotter. If he thought she could last hours without implosion… He was so wrong.

  “What do you say we see how long we can last?”

  “I think hours are too long, but I’m game.”

  Chapter Ten

  Weeks passed in a blur of work and dates and make-out sessions that always ended with Leigh’s naked legs wrapped around his waist. She helped finish the floor in the entryway, painted walls and re-grouted the tile in the showers.

  She walked into his house each evening in raggedy clothes and her hair in a loose ponytail. She walked out each morning in sensible business clothes and her hair in a well-secured bun. She shared both sides of herself with him, and both sides seemed like the real her.

  More and more the idea of Leigh becoming a permanent part of his life settled in Burton’s mind. In the hours he spent home alone, he saw and heard her. He viewed the rooms as if they were finished with every touch she suggested. Every touch that reflected him perfectly.

  Through helping him get the house sale-ready she had him looking at it as if it were his home. As if it were the place he wanted to start a family. With her.

  Every day he spent with her was a day he fell a little closer to love. By the time his eyes slid closed at night he was sure he’d gotten there, but each morning he watched her walk away he thought of Paula, and that had him wondering how long Leigh would stay before she decided he wasn’t the best she could get. Those thoughts had him pulling away until she returned in the evening.

  The up and down of his emotions was exhausting. He hated the insecurity and wished he knew how to talk about it with Leigh, but talking it out would require revealing himself to her. He wasn’t ready for that.

  The mattress dipped at his side. Leigh’s soft lips came to rest on his with a sweetness he’d been allowed to taste every morning for weeks. His lips curved a moment before he opened his eyes. “You’re dressed.”

  “Yes.” She kissed him again and then moved away. “And you need to be too. We’re supposed to be at Jace and Misty’s in less than an hour.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her down. “Plenty of time for sex and a shower.”

  She giggled the way she often did when he talked directly about sex. She’d admitted after a few drinks one night it wasn’t embarrassment that made her giggle. Her claim was he made her feel like a teenager and that made her giggle. Of course her telling him that had him finding ways each day to make her giggle. It was almost as cute as when she sneezed.

  “I have sweet rolls in the oven. I don’t want them to burn.”

  “You cooked?” She excelled at take out while he was the one who did most of the cooking, when they cooked.

  “Even I can open a tube of rolls and put them in the oven.” She kissed him sharply and pulled back. “Now get showered and dressed so we’re not late.”

  Arguments sprang to mind. He’d discovered which buttons to push when he wanted to coax her into bed. He’d also discovered if he made her late for work or something with her friends she withdrew and he had to work twice as hard to coax her out of her embarrassment.

  In a humoring mood, he let her go deal with breakfast while he followed her orders. He stepped into the kitchen to see a sight he’d never have expected.

  Leigh stood in front of the refrigerator with the door open. In her hand was a jug of dark chocolate milk, and she was drinking directly from it. She was the kind who frowned on double dipping. Her eyes would shout her disappointment if he moved a chip toward the salsa bowl for a second scoop. Yet, there she was with the jug cap in one hand while she drank freely from the jug.

  Grinning, he watched her for a minute. “I thought you were more refined than that.”

  She jumped and looked ashamed as she turned to him. He closed the distance and took the jug from her. With a wink he took a long pull of the milk too. “Some things are better when they’re shared.”

  “I do like the way you share things.” She was laughing as she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Go sit down while I ice the rolls and get your coffee.”

  It was all very comfortable and domestic, when he didn’t know how to do that outside of his family home. “You don’t have to wait on me.”

  “I know.” She moved to the island and began spreading the thick white glaze on the rolls. When she slipped a finger between her lips to suck off the icing his resolve to resist her crumbled.

  Nothing guaranteed she wouldn’t leave him one day, that she wouldn’t find someone better or with deeper pockets. He could hold on to the fear like a pro, or he could take a chance and see what happened if he took the next step.

  The debate was still raging in his head when Leigh turned with a large plate of rolls and a smile that warmed her eyes and made his stomach turn to mush. “Hungry?”

  “Starved.” And not just for cinnamon rolls.

  She poured him a cup of coffee and handed him the bowl of sugar. She dished out several cinnamon rolls on a plate and served him. She took care of him, seemingly happy with the domesticity.

  After she’d joined him with her own cup and plate he turned and studied her. The woman had swept away the grime of Paula, leaving a clean slate for herself, and she’d done it without him noticing. She’d also held a part of herself back.

  “Leigh?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What happened? With whoever burned you.”

  She chewed the bite she’d just taken. Chewed it more thoroughly than was necessary. After swallowing, she took a long drink of her coffee, and then another. Whatever her story was she didn’t want to talk about it. The longer she delayed the more certain he became that she wouldn’t tell him.

  Then, without taking her gaze from her plate, she spoke. “I had just gotten to college. I was a sheltered girl who’d spent years wanting to make a break from the constraints of system expectations and discover who I was.”

  “College is a good time for that.”

  “I met a guy. Derek. My first, and last, bad boy.” She picked at the roll, tearing it into gooey strips. “He was everything I always thought I wanted. Dark and edgy danger. He excited me in ways none of the nice guys growing up ever could.

  “I was so naive. He convinced me sex was more fun if there was a danger of getting caught.” She shrugged. “Who was I to argue? He made it sound so fun.”

  “Until it wasn’t fun anymore?”

  “Yeah. He wouldn’t even kiss me if there wasn’t the chance someone would see us. Every time we’d have sex he’d find someplace a little more daring and public than the last. The danger of getting caught became an obsession. He wanted to see what other boundaries he could push.”

  Wherever she was going with her story, Burton was already shocked she hadn’t turned away from him in Hearth and Home. She’d probably taken one look at him and decided he was like her ex, yet she’d helped him.

  “He became
careless and then mean. He had me dressing the way he wanted instead of how I liked. Even jeans and tank tops pissed him off because they weren’t easy access. Before I knew it, he started getting off on trying to hurt me.”

  “Oh, Leigh.” Pity slurred his voice while rage fisted his hand.

  “We were at a club and he wanted to have sex on the dance floor.” She didn’t look up or respond to him or stop shredding her roll. “I’d known I needed to end things with him, but I was afraid and too stupid to ask for help. When I refused him he got rough. The more I fought, the hotter he got. And the meaner.

  “He was about to rip my top off when I really started fighting back. That just turned him on more and enraged him to the point of hitting.” She stared, unblinking, at the plate as she shook her head. “He hit me. I fought back. Another guy tried stepping in. I became the rope in their tug of war. Several bruises and a busted lip and a black eye later there were four guys standing between us.

  “They took me to the emergency room, encouraged me to talk to the cops, and then they stood by while I told the cops everything. After that… Well, I failed to see the appeal of public sex, or anything that could tempt a man.”

  “So you began dressing ultra conservatively and putting your hair in a bun.”

  “It was either a bun or cut it off. Long, flowing hair is easier to grab and use as a weapon.”

  Burton turned on his stool so he faced Leigh. Reaching over, he put his hands on her knees and turned her so she faced him with her legs between his. Like he had the night on his bed when she’d suggested opening the blinds, he placed a finger under her chin and encouraged her to look at him.

  The raw pain of her memories shot from her gaze and lasered into him. He wanted to travel back in time and find her ex. He wanted to be one of the men who’d stood up for her and helped her break the pattern. He wanted to erase the agony from her past so she only knew happiness.

  “You know I’ll never hurt you, right?”

  “I do.” She smiled a tiny smile he wasn’t sure she felt. “You’re a sweet guy.”

  “I meant it when I said I was just as happy to have you behind the privacy of closed doors and blinds.” Knowing her story made him happier to have kept the blinds closed.