Page 108 of Never Kiss and Tell

I was stupid to think I could get away without kissing Charlie. The man might as well have invented it.

A deep ache burns in my core, reminding me of the emptiness that’s consuming me. I arch into him when his kisses trail down to my neck, biting and sucking a path that will surely be visible tomorrow.

“Why did you refuse to kiss me for so long?” he asks, rolling his hips into me.

“I told you,” I breathe as he lowers his head and swirls his tongue around my nipple. My head falls back against the mattress and a gasp fights past my lips.

His hand slides between my legs and he inserts two fingers inside me, cursing under his breath.

“So greedy.” His lips find mine again and he sucks on my tongue when I slide it into his mouth. Heat pools in my core as his fingers slide in and out of me. “Tell me the real reason.”

He pulls back, slowing his movements. He’s letting me play the game. Either tell him and get what I want or don’t and lay there frustrated and needy.

I cup his cheek in my hand, attempting to kiss him, again,but he pulls back just before I can touch him. I growl in frustration and try to move my hips, but the weight of his body on top of mine prevents me from moving.

“Because kissing you makes me forget that I’m supposed to hate you.”

With a groan, he kisses me again, pulling his fingers out of me and cupping my face sweetly.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby,” he whispers against my lips.

I take a deep breath, my body tingling with need. My stomach clenches at the thought of his rejection, but I have to try.

“Will you . . . tie me up?”

He stills, pulling back an inch to look at me. His expression is unreadable, cold, almost.

“I’m not tying you up.” It was final.

Tears burn at the backs of my eyes, but I shake them away.

“Please? I trust you.”

I don’t have to explain what I mean. I can see the moment he realizes what I’ve said. After a long and calculated minute, he steps off the bed, crossing the room to the small dresser in the corner. He pulls something out of the top drawer — a silky black tie — and comes back to the bed.

Anticipation curls in my stomach, as I watch him climb back to straddle me.

“If you want to stop, what are you going to say?”

I just stare up at him blankly.

“Bailey,” he growls, like he’s barely holding onto his composure. On the surface, he’s the same cool and controlledCharlie I’ve come to know. Under the surface, I get the feeling something’s burning.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. What do I say?”

He leans down, a hand on each side of the pillow under my head. “A safe word. Something out of the blue that wouldn’t fit into normal conversation.”

My cheeks flame as I search my head for something.

“You didn’t have a safe word before.” It wasn’t a question. Regardless, I shake my head.

He groans, kissing me softly. Taking my hands in one of his, he wraps the silk around my wrists, one by one and then around a wrung in the headboard. His hands shake ever so slightly, like he’s just as amped up as I am. He keeps his hand there, holding mine and stares down at me with so much seriousness it makes my pulse falter.

My heartbeat hammers in my ears, my breathing picking up. The girls in Drew’s pictures flash through my mind in rapid succession.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

I take a deep breath, licking my dry lips. I allow the feel of him, the smell of him to coax my senses and calm me down.

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