Page 12 of Risky Bet

She rubbed her hands together as the excitement of a looming game bubbled in her gut. Poker gave her a thrill that little else could.

“When do we do this?”

He grinned. “My inclination is to say right now. But you’re bound to be tipsy after the way you tossed back that whiskey and I want it to be fair, so we’ll set it up for in the morning. The guys will just have to do without a poker lesson.”

“Um…” She looked down at her hands, trying not to twist her fingers together.

“What?” he asked.

For the first time, she heard that dominant bite to his tone, and she jerked her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know how to ask this. It just feels weird to have to potentially do things with you for the next month when we haven’t even… done anything yet.”

“Are you trying to back out, or are you asking me to fuck you?”

“You’re very blunt. I was just thinking a kiss or a scene in one of the play areas or something in between.”

He chuckled. “I like the sound of that very much, Rylee. You sure you’re sober enough to consent?”

She nodded. “I am, I promise.”

“Good girl. Come with me,” he said as he extended his hand to her.

She took it and relished the warmth that slithered through her as his hand clasped hers.

He pulled her into a nearby room and led her to a corner. It was a large room and two couples were playing at stations that had been set up. Memphis was leading her to a third station—a wooden x shaped device known as a St. Andrew’s cross.

“Kneel there,” he commanded. “Actually, wait one minute,” he said gripping her elbow to stop her from sinking down.

He backed her against the cross and cradled her head in both his hands. “You mentioned a kiss,” he breathed when his mouth was mere centimeters from hers.

Her eyes drifted closed as their lips connected. The kiss was gentle at first, but when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he deepened it and stole her breath.

“Much better,” he said as he pulled away. “Now you can kneel. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” she said, feeling a bit of panic.

“Just to get my toy bag, Ace. Stay here.”

What had she just gotten herself into? She contemplated her predicament as she settled onto her knees and waited for him to return.

He came back a few minutes later with a black duffel bag.

“Limits?” he asked as he set the bag on a nearby table.

“Um. No blood. Nothing gross. You can’t pee on me or anything like that.”

He chuckled. “None of that appeals to me. You’re safe. What’s your pain threshold?”

“I’m not a masochist, but I enjoy dancing on the line between pleasure and pain.”

He nodded as he circled her.

Without warning, he reached down and fisted his hand into her hair and gave a sharp tug. “Up,” he commanded.

She scrambled to stand with his hand still pulling at her hair. She winced as he tightened his grip and crushed his mouth to hers.

“Take your panties off,” he commanded.

She slid her hand under her skirt and obeyed. He backed her to the cross again and lifted an arm to attach her wrist to the wooden frame. Soon she was attached at the ankles and wrists and he was pulling her skirt up around her waist.

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