Kink It Up Read online

  Maybe because the man can stay focused a hell of a lot better than you.

  She recalled his reaction when she’d showed him an internet snippet she’d found from a bondage movie. It was dark and harsh in the staged dungeon and she expected him to comment on the sinister element but he hadn’t. Kelsey had covertly watched his reaction to the clip. He hadn’t gotten a boner during any of it. He’d been almost clinical.

  Maybe he was planning something more like a lesson in bondage than a participatory scene. A ripple of disappointment began to fray the edges of her desire. Before it could form into a heavy weight that would undoubtedly land in the pit of her stomach, Smith walked to the back end of the ottoman and squatted downward, his gaze locking onto hers between her splayed legs.

  “Close your eyes,” he demanded, hooking his thumb under the thin fabric of her thong, pulling it to one side as his hands gripped her ass cheeks and spread them wide.

  Vulnerability assailed Kelsey and she quickly did as she was told, more from embarrassment than obedience. The fabric slid across her mons, the coarseness of the elastic rubbing slowly across her clit before she was completely bare to his view. Lust and worry swirled through her, the double-edged sword of wanting to try something out of the norm and knowing there was always the chance it might turn out bad.

  “You’re drippin’ honey.”

  If his tone hadn’t ratcheted her desire, his words would have. Just that one sentence delivered in that sexy southern style. It didn’t sound the least bit demanding and she didn’t care. A puff of warm air danced over her slit and gooseflesh rose along her arms. His mouth hadn’t been that close to her pussy in forever. An invisible vise-like grip encircled her clit and Kelsey moaned.

  He slicked his finger with her juices, back and forth and around the opening of her vagina, tempting her with the tiniest amount of firm pressure. Her inner walls clenched at the illusion that she was about to be entered but she knew his fingering technique never compared to what he could do with his cock. But the short strokes were making her wet enough that he eased another finger into her pussy, the added girth and small twist of his wrist pressing downward made her groan. Heat rushed to the tiny patch of flesh he was caressing and Kelsey tilted her hips backward, trying to position his fingers perfectly against her G-spot.

  “Tell me what you’re feeling,” Smith demanded.

  Kelsey swallowed. Conversation hadn’t been part of the deal. She wasn’t a talker in bed. He was crazy if he thought she’d become one now, perched on the edge of release. His knee made a muffled pop and she knew he had stood up. The deliciousness of being filled began to lessen as he started to remove his fingers. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him right where he had been.

  “Don’t go,” she said, knowing as soon as the words left her lips she should have used a different tone. One that wasn’t so demanding. “I’ve changed my mind. We don’t need to do this. Undo me and let’s go back upstairs to bed.” She twisted her wrists. The cuffs chaffed as she tugged. Her pussy throbbed in time to his steps and he moved in front of her once again.

  “Wrong answer,” he said softly.

  Kelsey looked quickly upward. His lips were set in a determined slash. On an average day, when Smith made a decision, big or small, there was no turning back. It didn’t matter if it was choosing the color of the sofa, whose home to visit for the holidays or whether he should chain her to the bed or place her nearly naked body on display in their living room. She had learned early on that because he didn’t enjoy the process of overthinking, his choices were made with a confidence she found extremely attractive. But once Smith settled on a course of action, wavering wasn’t an option.

  He leaned forward and shifted her thong back into place. He took a step backward, crossed his arms and tucked his hands under his biceps. Bastard.

  He knew damn well how much she loved that particular stance. Another step and he turned, giving her a grand view of his denim-clad buttocks. How could she have forgotten how freakin’ hot he was? She wanted him inside her. Wanted him to release her and flip her over. To spread her thighs and go down on her as if there were no tomorrow.

  “Okay,” she yelled quickly. “I-I’m. Ready to—come. That’s the feeling, full and aching.” Heat crept up her neck and she knew if he turned and looked at her, he’d laugh at how badly she was blushing. But he didn’t stop.

  “Love hurts, sugar.” He padded across the hardwood floor and around the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. “You think about that while I take a shower.”

  “What?” She certainly couldn’t have heard him correctly. To take a shower he’d have to go upstairs. Far away from where she was. She could understand him pretending he was going to the den, at least that was within earshot if she called for help. Upstairs was way too far away. “Come back here, Smith. You can’t leave.”

  His chuckle drifted on the Gulf breeze coming through the opened sliding glass doors. “Girls who don’t listen the first time have to be punished. At least that’s what I’ve been told. And no ‘Smith’ unless you’re using it as your safe word. Just like we agreed last week.”

  Kelsey listened to the thump, thump, thump and then the sharp crack of shifting wood that made it abundantly clear that he had reached the top of the staircase. Just like that, gone. And what had happened to them spicing up their love life together? There might not be an “I” in team, but there sure as hell was one in “Let me tie you up and then leave”. Holy shit, giving him complete control might have been a colossal mistake.

  She should have considered Smith’s straightforwardness before suggesting any of this. Kelsey had always found his attitude pretty damn refreshing.

  Her girlfriends proclaimed the man too stubborn for their liking, which worked just fine as far as Kelsey was concerned. She loved her girlfriends, but there were a few she didn’t trust as far as she could throw their crystal-studded Kate Spades. It didn’t bother her in the least that they tended to go on and on about Smith’s headstrong behavior or how he laughed too loud or gave Kelsey proprietary pats on the ass at the most inappropriate times. When their orations finally grinded to a halt, usually after inordinate amounts of razzleberry martinis, Kelsey would calmly remind them that she adored her husband for one paramount reason. Smith Branch was the only man who had ever loved her without condition.

  Smith had put up with her crazy family and her even-crazier ex-husband. When the housing market took a giant dump, he’d endured her upset at losing her position as one of the Panhandle’s most prominent home-management consultants. The man had always rallied behind her. He’d been her biggest advocate. His latest feat of love and loyalty? His support of Kelsey starting her own blogging empire.

  Her friends’ husbands or boyfriends would have been bitching up a storm right around the point they were forced to go from two incomes to one. In the span of two weeks, no less. But Smith had bought extra tissues, wiped away the waterworks of tears whenever he could and told her everything would be fine.

  Kelsey smiled at the memory and exhaled, trying to alleviate the tension that had built at the base of her neck. It gave her something to focus on other than the dull ache that was still present between her thighs. Bringing up her fantasy with Smith had been harder than she’d imagined. But it was all self-imposed angst. She’d been so worried about his response and she shouldn’t have. He hadn’t laughed. He’d put down the book he was reading, slid next to her on the oversized chair in the living room, which was no small feat for a man with shoulders nearly as wide as the chair itself, and told her he’d be agreeable to whatever she desired.

  “Smith,” she yelled. “What the hell are you waiting for?” There. Let him come downstairs and finally punish her.

  She wasn’t that shocked that he’d taken the initiative, but that he’d chosen today to get his kink on was bizarre. She’d been brainstorming on the perfect options for rekindling their sex life for weeks and had come up with the perfect plan two days ago. She�
��d been the one to suggest they take the day off work. Whatever he had arranged in such short time would undoubtedly be hot. He wasn’t a master planner for nothing. But Kelsey figured it couldn’t be anywhere near as exciting as what she had in store for him.

  She cocked her head to one side and listened. He hadn’t started the shower yet or she would have heard the tiny clinking of the hot water tank kicking into action. Maybe he was just playing with her. Letting her think she’d be tied and alone when he was really just sitting at the top of the stairs, checking email on his phone while he made her wait.

  Whistling, soft but clear, drifted through the slider doors and Kelsey’s smile deepened. So, he was keeping up the façade of indifference. He had to be standing at their bedroom window, looking out at the pale-blue water and small waves. He’d do that for hours and it wasn’t uncommon for her to sit in the downstairs office and listen to him hum or sing some Cajun tune she’d never heard. But the whistling, that was new. She liked it, despite the fact the tone seemed a little higher pitched than she would have expected. And his choice of song, Kelsey’s mind was reaching for the title when the sound of the latch to their deck gate being opened blasted through the room like a gunshot.

  Kelsey froze, heart thumping in an uneven rhythm. Slow, heavy footsteps clumped across the pressure-treated decking and the whistling became louder. She whipped her head toward the open doors so fast her neck cracked.

  She wanted to yell for Smith—actually opened her mouth to do just that—but no sound came out. A large shadow materialized, falling across the boards of the deck, and adrenaline had her pulling at her bonds. Pffft, pffft, pffft, pffft, pfft and then a slow hissing that sounded menacing. Dangerous.

  Omygod, omygod, omygod. Kelsey had no idea what he was doing and in a true moment of frightening surrealism the song’s title became clear as a manly voice sang the chorus under his breath.

  “I don’t want, anybody else. When I think about you, I touch myself.”

  In a flurry of khaki-colored clothing, the faint scent of sandalwood cologne and a suddenly higher-pitched “I honestly do”, a tall, bald-headed man lumbered into the living room. Kelsey looked frantically from his handsome face to the copper sprayer he held in one hand, to his bright-white badge with the name Vinnie embroidered in cursive, then back to his face.

  Her mind raced. What stuck in her head was the fact their pest guy’s name was Paul.

  His sharp blue gaze traveled slowly over her body before dropping to her wrists. When he saw the cuffs, he laughed. Low and sexy. Kelsey hadn’t imagined her heart could beat any faster but she was wrong.

  He set the sprayer carefully on the floor and put his hands on his hips, the action drawing Kelsey’s attention from his face to the wide vee of his upper body. He shifted his feet and she stopped herself before she looked any lower to see if his bulk stopped above his belt.

  “Your husband called yesterday,” the man said. “I got here as soon as I could.”

  Chapter Two

  With each step he took, Smith waged an inner battle. Ordering her around, being stern with her had been tough. He thought he did a pretty good job of dominating her. If her level of arousal was any indication, he could claim complete success. But there was a flip side to her reaction. One he didn’t realize would bother him. He couldn’t help questioning why she suddenly needed to be tied up to get off. An inner voice accused him of not caring for his own selfish reasons. The bold wantonness Kelsey had displayed had been sexier than hell. He hadn’t seen that sort of reaction from her in months. And her fine ass perched at the perfect level.

  He nearly missed the fourth stair when his cock surged against the zipper of his jeans. Kelsey on the ottoman had been a tempting sight and he’d almost given in. Nearly yanked his pants down and her thong to one side and fucked her quick and hard.

  Smith reached the top step, the loud creaking brought his thoughts back to what would happen next. Kelsey was probably still struggling to free herself. He had made sure she wouldn’t, but if she could, he wondered if she would still be aroused enough that she’d fling herself down on her back, feverishly stroke herself to completion, her wild red hair spread over the crushed velvet fabric like a feathery halo.

  That single image of his wife was enough of a fantasy for him. He made his way across their bedroom, undoing the button of his jeans and lowering the zipper before he plopped down on the bed. He didn’t need a guide on how to spice up their marriage, all he needed was for her to come to bed sometime before two in the morning when he had to get up at six. He didn’t begrudge her a chance at what was proving to be a new and lucrative career. But if she had bothered to ask him what he thought was putting a crimp in their sex life instead of just dog-earing magazine articles and sending him hyperlinks, life wouldn’t be quite as stressful.

  He’d have told her the easy solution was them doing exactly what they had done when they first met. Telling everyone else, including their bosses, that their work days had a definitive end time. He’d managed to do just that and still pull in a decent salary. All they needed to do was immerse themselves in each other for a while.

  His hand drifted over his abs, fingers gliding toward his semi-hard cock. He thought of Kelsey, of how she’d show up at the most inopportune times. Always decked out in a skirt or dress that accentuated her sexy legs and sporting a pair of four-inch heels. Once they got over the hate part of what started out as a love-hate relationship, more times than naught those heels would be the only thing she had left on.

  Lord, how he missed those days. The way she flipped her long red hair over her shoulder and gave him a sassy look. Right before she begged him to take her doggy style. How she’d been comfortable with her sexuality, daring enough to touch herself while he thrust into her tight warm pussy. His cock hardened just thinking about the way her fingers would brush teasingly against his balls with every circular movement her hand made.

  Smith tightened his fist and stroked his shaft slowly. The kinky shit was apparently the way to go. Especially since everything had aligned perfectly this morning. From her going to bed with her hair cinched into a ponytail to her opting out of one of her numerous pairs of short pajamas. He hated those damn things. But she must have been so exhausted from her late-night blogging that she’d simply dropped her jeans to the ground and did that magical bra removal thing of hers. The one where she kept her top on but in three quick swoops of movement would pull her bra out from under the front of her shirt. There was no other reason for him waking up and finding her in a thong and the top she’d had on the night before.

  The sight of her this morning had taken his breath away. Dusky nipples hard and clearly outlined beneath the thin white fabric of her tank-style undershirt. Her full breasts stretched the fabric to its limit and it was sexy as hell. And the T-back thong? He moved his wrist quicker, bumping the underside of his cockhead with the top of his fist. It was the perfect outfit for his wife’s fantasy. Exposed but still clothed. If it got right down to the point that she wanted to be completely naked, he’d have to make some quick revisions.

  But Smith knew the plan. Had studied it more than he probably should have, but that was his nature. What he’d come up with was a lot more involved than the slap-and-tickle Kelsey had initially proposed. It was more in the vein of the movie she’d had him watch. The one where the helpless captive was brought to orgasm over and over. Modifications had to be made, of course.

  He wouldn’t allow Kelsey to be introduced to the world of bondage surrounded by a group of four strange men who would stick their dicks in every orifice. If she wanted the kinky stuff, thought that’s what it would take to get their love life back on track, he’d give it to her. Man of precision that he was, Smith planned on doing it right. And if that meant bringing in another person who specialized in such things, then so be it.

  With a heavy sigh he pulled his hand free and rolled off the bed, grabbing his T-shirt off the footboard. Treading softly, he walked toward the window, reaching
the opening as the breeze kicked up. There’d be a storm, Smith could smell it, but not until later in the evening. But the dark clouds and brutal wind would lend a sinister air to what was going to transpire in their living room. Maybe not as stark and creepy as the video she’d had him watch, but it would set a mood.

  Smith hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed. This was supposed to be about her, but he knew he couldn’t control the fierce possessiveness that sharing her with another man incited. The expert could touch—Smith knew there’d be no stopping that—but he’d knock the guy out if he got anywhere near Kelsey with his dick. Smith had made that perfectly clear. And that was the beauty of having a history with someone. They knew when you were blowing smoke, and when you were deathly serious.

  The man’s words echoed through his mind. Trust me, Smith. I do this shit all the time. Right. That in and of itself had been a huge revelation. Smith, like the rest of their fraternity brethren, thought the dude owned a neighborhood bar in a revitalized part of the city. Sam Adams on tap and studded collars? No one would suspect that.

  Smith shifted nervously and focused on the lush scenery covering their backyard, a practice that generally calmed his anxiety. The gardens were rife with exotic and heirloom plants, some of which Smith had all but sold his soul to obtain. It was an oasis that generally made the landscape architect in him sit back and smile. But those were days when his body wasn’t tense with concern. When he wasn’t wondering what might happen to their relationship if he pulled the plug on their erotic explorations. Would what they had collapse?

  A movement at the corner of their property line caught his attention and the knot that had been sitting in the pit of Smith’s stomach came to life. A recognizable figure made his way around the perimeter. Shit. He thought he would have more time.

  For what, sitting up here with your dick in your hand, taking a walk down memory lane?