Page 62 of S.O.S. Billboard

O’Shea made up her mind quickly, feinting to the right, then speeding off to the left, but she hadn’t fooled Billboard.

He ran for her and…

Dammit!

His arms came around her waist and he scooped her from her feet.

O’Shea squirmed, but the iron muscled-manacles wouldn’t budge.

Eventually, she gave in.

That had gone well.

Laughter began bubbling up in her throat as she squirmed.Oh, yeah.She was good and trapped.

If Billboard had been a perp, of course, she would have fought him tooth and nail; head-butted his nose, kicked back into his balls, but… She liked the first appendages too much to do it damage, and those second soft bits… Well, she hadn’t seen them yet, but she certainly hoped to, and didn’t want them compromised in any way.

Billboard kissed the top of her head, then hefted her like she weighed nothing, sending her up and over his left shoulder.

“Hey,” she complained with a pretend, outraged snicker. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but now I have access to…” He brought up his large, free palm, placed it firmly on her ass, and made small circles.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she hissed with some sass. “Unless you give me carte blanche withyourbody, you’re not getting free access to mine.”

“We’ll see about that,” he retorted, then began marching toward his back door.

There was the sound of a footstep on the adjoining deck.

“George?”

O’Shea groaned. Just what she needed. Billboard’s mother being witness to her humiliation.

“Hi Mom. What’s up?” Billboard paused and answered casually, as if O’Shea wasn’t draped all over him.

“Um, I was about to ask you the same thing.” Celia’s voice held equal parts amusement and censure.

“Oh. This?” He spanked O’Shea’s ass.

O’Shea would get him for that. She pictured his eyebrows rising innocently.

“O’Shea and I were just having a discussion.”

O’Shea banged her head against his rock-hard back.Seriously?

She took it upon herself to talk to his Mom. “He’s actually not behaving himself at all, Celia, so I might need some help. Can’t you give him a time-out or something?”

“Hmm. Probably not,” the woman answered with a hint of laughter in her tone. “He started challengingthatform of punishment when he was about six, so I don’t think it would do us any good now. But tell me honestly. Do you actually need my intervention? Because I worked late, and I’m dying to change into my pj’s. So, if you two think you can contain your…squabbling…”

O’Shea snorted.Squabbling, huh? More like Billboard was being a jerk; promising a conversation earlier to clear the air, then clamming up before going all troglodyte on her.

But, if that’s how he wanted things…

“Don’t worry, Celia,” O’Shea reassured the woman. “I’ve got him right where I want him.” And to prove her point, she wiggled her soft breasts into Billboard’s back. Sure enough, she felt a small, nearly silent groan escape him.

Indeed.

O’Shea smirked. Despite her precarious position and the location of his warm palm, O’Shea was damned sure she had the upper hand.

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