Page 27 of Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

She took a large sip of wine and swallowed. No way was she going to let another panic attack ruin her night, no matter howjustified it might be. They’d probably be looking for her, but she had no intention of going back yet. Not until her little adventure with Xavier, the Aussie Sex God, was well and truly over.

A knock at the door signalled Xavier’s return. She shoved the wine bottle back in the fridge. She paused for a moment to enjoy the thump of anticipation in her chest, then opened the door with a flourish. A smile lit his face as he squeezed past her and put two pizza boxes on the bench. The name on the boxes was unfamiliar, but somehow, he’d managed to hunt down the only gluten-free, vegan pizza shop in the entire state.

He turned back to her and raised an eyebrow at her robe. Her lumpy costume made it difficult to conceal it from view. She liked teasing him. She hoped he liked it, too, especially with what she had in mind.

His hand reached out and slid down her cheek, setting off sparks in her chest.

“How are you feeling?” he said. “We really need to talk about—”

“I know. I know. Sorry for getting all emotional on you. Weird, huh? It was a momentary freak out, nothing to worry about, really.”

“Well, I was worried.”

“I know, and we’ll talk, honestly. Hold that thought.”

She held up a hand for him to stay where he was, taking a mental photo of him silhouetted in the doorframe. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans—a change from his usual workout clothes, and on anyone else it would be unremarkable. On him, irresistible.Hot damn, once this was all over, she’d be using that image to keep herself warm at night. What a gorgeous slice of manhood he was. The things he did for her, to her, the things she was about to do to him.

Hope undid her robe and let it slide off her body. Xavier let his gaze rove over her, admiring every inch of the view. Hercomic bookHarley Quinncostume came complete with thigh-high PVC boots, one black one red, held in place by garters connected to a scrap of black PVC that was supposed to pass as a garter belt. Above this, a red and black corset cinched her waist to an impossibly small circumference, making it slightly difficult to breathe. Her breasts pushed up and out, as though desperate to escape the diamond patterned cage.

As he took in the view, she smoothed the tiny red and black frilled skirt which matched the cuffs around her neck and wrists. She’d bunched her hair into pigtails, and she quickly added a small jester’s hat to perch atop them. The handcuffs she’d hidden in the pocket of her robe dangled from her fingertips.

She almost laughed at Xavier’s reaction. It was like an old Warner Bros. cartoon, jaw falling to the floor, eyes bugging out on stalks. It was as if no woman had ever dressed in an erotic clown costume in order to seduce him before.

He twisted one finger to indicate she should twirl before him.

She obliged, slowly, taking the time to return the inspection. His biceps strained against the material of his t-shirt as he leaned against the wall, the sight leaving her weak at the knees. Those guns were big enough to lift a girl right off her feet, flip her over, and…

He interrupted her flash fantasy. “I’m going to enjoy ripping that off you.”

“Be gentle, I only just bought it.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I’m confused. Is the circus in town?”

She inclined her head. “Something like that. Get over here.”

“The pizza…”

“Can wait.”

A giggle escaped her.Seriously?Since when had she been a giggler? Since she’d met him, and he changed everything. That was when. Time to get this party started before she completelylost the plot and started baking him cookies or something. She grabbed his lapels and drew him back towards the bed with a passionate kiss that made her head spin.

It wasn’t until she’d laid him down underneath her with his arms stretched high above his head that he realised she’d slipped the handcuffs over one of his wrists. With his grinning approval, she took the opportunity to loop the other end through the sturdy headboard and clicked it over his other wrist, securely fastening him in place.

After a lifetime of reading everything she could lay her hands on, the only word she could think of to describe him wasfuckable. He was all hers, every rock-hard inch of him. For tonight, anyway, and right then the smell of him was making her wet. She rubbed herself against him like an alley cat in heat, wanting nothing more than to feel his stubbled cheeks scratch hers.

As he watched her from the bed, the look in his eyes made her feel like a very sexy alley cat, and the power was going to her head. It swirled there, speeding up her pulse. That and the wine gave her the confidence to go on.

“Did you know, Surfer-Boy,” she asked, crawling catlike up his body, “that in the fine state of Georgia, it is considered an offence to allow yourself to be handcuffed to a clown? You sir, have already broken the law.” She wagged her finger at him. “Bad boy.”

“I’m not handcuffed to a clown.” He pulled against the bonds.

“Handcuffed to a bed with a clown. Close enough, and we’re going to break another law before you’re allowed to go free tonight. You’re going to have to guess the other one, though.”

He glanced at the radio. “Is it this song? I thought Bieber was illegal after six pm.”

“You’re going to pay for that comment. Roll over.”

His cheeky grin disappeared into the pillow as he obediently rolled onto his stomach, crossing his wrists and turning his face to the side so he could lie flat. She straddled the back of his legs, pinning him in place. Her hands ran up inside his t-shirt, massaging the bunched muscles of his back. The feel of his shoulders under her fingertips set a slow burn in her stomach that soon spread between her thighs.

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