“Four.”
I scrambled to my feet, my hands flying to the hem of my shirt.
“Three.”
I pulled it over my head, dropping it on the blanket beside my easel.
“Two.”
Bra next. Then my hands fumbled with the button on my jeans. I shoved them down my hips along with my underwear, stumbling slightly as I kicked them off along with my shoes.
“One.”
I straightened, naked in the full afternoon sun. Every rational thought in my head scattered.
This was insane. We were outside. Anyone could come by.
But the way Cam looked at me? I didn’t fucking care.
He closed the distance between us in two strides and crashed his lips to mine.
His mouth was hot and demanding. One hand cupped the back of my head while the other slid down my back to my ass, squeezing.
He kissed me like he was starving for it. Like he couldn’t get enough.
When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged. “Wait here.”
He walked to his truck and opened the back to grab a coil of rope.
“Now come here.”
He led me to the front of his truck. The metal grill was warm from the engine, and I could smell motor oil and heated metal. He positioned me with my back against it, the warmth seeping through to my skin.
“Arms up.” His voice was deep, commanding. “Spread them.”
I lifted my arms, stretching them out to either side. He guided each wrist to the horizontal bars of the grill, and I wrapped my fingers around the metal.
Then stood there, watching me as he worked the rope through his hands.
“You tell me if it’s too much.” He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine. “Understood?”
“Yes.”
The rope came around my left wrist first. He wound it carefully, his gaze never leaving my face. It was working rope, rougher than the soft cotton he’d used before. Somehow that made it more thrilling. Not too tight, but firm enough that I felt it. Felt the weight of what I was giving him.
Control. Trust.
He secured it to the grill, then moved to my right wrist. The same careful attention. The same deliberate movements. When he was done, I tested the bonds gently.
I was completely at his mercy.
“How does that feel?” His hands settled on my hips, thumbs tracing small circles against my skin.
“Good.” My voice was high, breathless. “Really good.”
“Good.”
His hands slid up my sides, over my ribs, brushing the undersides of my breasts before moving back down. Exploring. Learning every curve while I stood there unable to do anything but feel it.
