Page 45 of Callback
She shook her head. “No.”
“No, what?” She’d had the day off and granted, I hadn’t been enforcing the ‘Sir’ rule that morning. But now? Here? With her arms bound and her chest rising and falling in heavy, rapid breaths? It felt appropriate. And also, wildly inappropriate.
“No, Sir.” And for the first time, she said it without even a hint of sarcasm. “It’s heavy. Uncomfortable.”
“I agree.” I hissed a low breath, lust simmering in my gut as I unclasped Layla’s collar and removed it from Marly’s throat.
“There,” I said, my voice scratchier than ever. “Normally, you cinch the monoglove even tighter for reduced circulation to the arms.”
She spun around, facing me, eyes wide and mouth rounded into a perfectly fuckable ‘o.’ Jesus Christ, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling just to divert my attention away from her swollen, kissable pout. “Why? Is that…” her voice cracked, “…pleasurable?”
After a deep breath, I brought my gaze back to hers. “For some, yes.”
She stretched her neck behind her, looking down her back at the bound arms. “It’s pretty hot. Being trapped… unable to move,” her voice dropped. “Completely in the care of someone else.”
I gulped.Fuck.
“So, then what would you do?” Her voice was innocent but the question was a loaded gun, pointed directly at my balls.
I grunted, stepping back from her and carrying the remaining dishes from breakfast to the sink. Anything to keep busy and get away from the vision that stood a few feet away. “What do you mean, what would you do? You’d fuck.”
“Well…yeah,” she turned in the mirror once more for another glance. “But… I mean… just standing here? Or… like, face down on the bed?”
I sucked in a sharp, shallow breath. This was what Marly was here for. To learn. So I didn’t have to do this shit alongside of Layla. I turned slowly, still finding Marly entranced by her own reflection. Her breasts in the low-cut tank top pushed up and swelled out of the neckline. Her nipples pierced the thin cotton and my mouth watered for just one taste. One lick. With a sigh, I stormed back into the closet, taking a moment to compose myself. I could feel the glowering scowl on my face.Relax. This isn’t real. It’s a character study. You’re Leo… not Jude today.My racing heart slowed with several deep breaths and as I calmed down, I grabbed the spreader bar off the wall. “Well, I’d probably use this next,” I said, exiting the closet and crossing to Marly. “It locks your legs in an open position.” My mouth was like a sand dune and I wet my lips as best I could, despite my dry mouth.
“Do it,” Marly said, voice as bubbly and innocent as though she just requested an ice cream cone from Mister Frosty.
I chuckled a wry laugh and shook my head. “You’re not ready for this.” I shook the bar as if that would demonstrate just how not ready she was. In truth?Iwas the one not ready to see her in that state. Spread wide. Bound. Flushed.
Marly’s cheek flopped over to one shoulder as she shot me an exacerbated eye roll. “You’re kidding, right? If I get this part, I’ll most likely be in more compromising positions than this. And fully nude, too.”
Jesus, don’t remind me. The breath hitched higher into my throat and though it was air, I damn near suffocated. But she was right. “Okay… remember—” I held a finger to her nose. “Planner. If you need to stop…”
“Sticker to slow down. I know.” Her eyes flashed. Nervousness, maybe? I nudged her legs apart and as I bent to slide the leather cuffs on, she turned.
“Wait!” I knew it. It was too much for a newbie. “If this were real… I’d be naked. I want to feel how it would be against my skin.” She kicked her heels off.
“Uh—”
“Just take my jeans off. I’m wearing little boy shorts underneath… it’ll be fine.”
“Marly, I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“First of all, if I have to call you, Sir, you have to call me Poppy.” That brought a smile to my face. She liked her nickname. “Second of all, I’m telling you it’s okay. Take my jeans off. I wear less than this when I go to the beach. Trust me…Sir.”
Fuck me. Those were the three magic words. Despite my hesitancy, I couldn’t argue with her. She was a consenting adult and this was good… it was good for the movie and good for the part. Just not good for my damn cerulean balls. She was as naïve as Red Riding Hood befriending the wolf. My fingers brushed the bare skin of her taut stomach. Popping the button of her jeans, I tugged the zipper down and crouched as I hooked my fingers into her waistband. The denim slid down her slender legs easily.
On my next breath, I could smell her. Could fucking smell her excitement. Was it me that aroused her? The monosleeve? The anticipation of the spreader bar? Or a combination of everything? I inhaled that sweet, heady scent and pushed off my knees, taking her in.
Those “boy shorts” she claimed to be wearing was basically a lacy thong in which her curvy ass peeked out from. “If you wear less than this to the beach, what the hell beaches are you going to?”
She laughed and shook her head. “You sound like my dad when I was in high school.”
Fuck.Fuck. I imagined an eighteen-year old, carefree Marly going to the beach with a bunch of friends. I suppressed a groan and gripped her shoulders, spinning her away from me. Kneeling, I attached each of her ankles to the spreader bar and stepped back to admire the sight. What a fucking sight it was. She was gorgeous.
Her hair fell in cascading waves down her back and she peeked over her shoulder as a wicked smile curved her lips. “Like this?” she asked.
She damn well knew like that. Shehadto. “Yep,” I answered in a clipped tone.
