Page 15 of Reindeer and Restraints
I scan the room to see who was holding out. In the back of the room, the poop scooper… or maybe I should call him the reindeer wrangler is holding up a bidder's paddle.
Broad shoulders fill out his flannel shirt. His stoic expression serves as a reminder of how annoyed he looked when I messed up the display. Why is he bidding on me?
Yes, I thought we shared something, but that was heavily impacted by how my body reacted to his strong hands circling my waist and the way his rugged jawline made me swoon. And the reins… the brief moment when I swore he rubbed his thumb over the inside of my wrist as if he was having thoughts of binding me.
But how can an employee at a reindeer farm come up with the money he's bidding?
The prim-and-proper bidder fails to raise his paddle when the reindeer wrangler takes it to one and a half million.
The auctioneer tests the room, inviting bidders who'd dropped out to rejoin.
It finally hits me… I'm getting bid on. Someone will win me tonight. My dream is coming true.
My gaze lingers on the table full of dad potential. They don't spark a fire in my heart the wayhedoes. Shifting my attention to the reindeer guy, I realize this was meant to be. We randomly cross paths and he ends up at the auction.
Fate stepped in to make sure I got the guy who can give me what I came here for tonight—an orgasm I'll never forget.
"Sold to the gentleman in the back for one point five million!"
Thunderous applause. My knees wobble. I'm escorted off stage. My heart pounds.
I'm taken to the payment room where I breathe in his woodsy scent. "We meet again."
The muscles in his neck flex. "Because you're mine."
I arch a brow. "You knew I'd be here?"
"Overheard you and Molly at the ranch. Nearly choked when I heard you say you were in the auction."
I remember all too clearly. I remembered everything about him.
The attendant who ushered me to him asks, "Do you accept his win?"
Why the hell wouldn't I? Then my libido relaxes and I recall that we can turn down a winner. The women have agency in this. "Yes, thank you."
The break in my thought pattern is enough to remind me of other things, like my kid. When the attendant walks away, I say, "Look, my life is up in the air right now. I have to get home tonight… you know, the kid thing. So can we do this?"
It sounds terrible when I put it that way, but I'm one phone call away from my night being cut short. Do all moms experience this level of panic and uncertainty?
"You really know how to set the mood." His laugh rumbles between us but his smile is almost nonexistent.
I think he's making a joke. I like this playful side of him. "You're the one who broke Christmas Cherry Auction history and didn't come with a group of friends."
"You could have turned me down. I'm sure Mr. Button-Up and his friends would love to try handling a woman like you." The faintest hint of a smile sits on his lips.
"You could have let them win… and watched them try." But I don't want guys who look like they play by the rules. I have that at home, and I love being cared for, but I need more.
I want the guy who shows up in a flannel shirt and drops a million dollars all on his own. I want the guy who can make my heart race from across a corral. I want the guy who makes my sex ache at the mere thought of surrendering control to him.
He shrugs. "It would have been worse than watching you try to untangle yourself from the reins."
I gasp. "I think you liked me being tangled."
He reaches to the back pocket of his jeans and presents small leather reins.
My heart stops. My sex aches and my wrists yearn to be bound again—this time intentionally.
"I wanted you to stay tangled." He sweeps me up, tossing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
