Bow to Your Partner Read Online Free PDF Page A

packet in there."
    "Here." He handed her a lawn handkerchief.
"My mum says a gentleman always carries one. Well, I thought then if I
want to be taken for a gent, I'd better make sure I have a hankie." Did it
sound silly, mentioning his mum? Callan couldn't have cared less. It produced a
watery smile from Mason and a tiny giggle.
    "My mum always said make sure you have clean
underwear on, in case you get run over by a bus," she said. "I could
never understand that. If you were run over surely you'd be past caring?" Mason
wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "And if you weren't dead, then I'm
guessing you'd be mucky and not give a shit? Oops, bad comparison. Oh lord
sorry, but I get verbal diarrhea when I'm upset." She put her tip of her
finger in her mouth and grinned. "Only verbal though and well—"
    Callan shut her up by the very basic method of removing
her finger, holding her hand tight in his and kissing her.
    He used his tongue to demand entrance to Mason's
mouth. Her lips opened to let him in, and her tongue played with his. Callan
gave a mental high five, even as his cock hardened and pushed against his
zipper. She moaned into his mouth and the sound reverberated inside him. Such a fucking turn on . Her hands clutched his shoulder, and she wriggled on his lap. Of course
his prick responded as if it had a mind of its own, hardening to the point
Callan wondered perhaps he should check his jeans for stains.
    In one swift movement, he stood and twisted her
around so they were face to face. Mason leaned into him, and Callan took
advantage to pull her close and hold her, clit to cock, against him. Thank God
for killer heels. They made her the perfect height to achieve it. He used one
hand to lift the hem of her dress, and then tease the globes of her ass with
his fingertips. The lace of a thong caressed his nails as he stroked her. His
hand itched to spank, and delve into her, but he held back. The shifting of her
body, and the way her breath hitched under his mouth, damn near undid him. As
tempted as he was to throw caution to the wind, and stake his authority, Callan
slowed the pace down. After one last thrust of his tongue, he pulled back and
rested his cheek against hers. The sense of loss was far more than he'd
anticipated.
    She shuddered and relaxed her death grip on his
jacket. The material would never be the same and Callan couldn't have cared
less.
    "Wha—what the hell was that?" Mason
sounded shaken.
    "Destiny." Callan kissed the top
of her head, and then straightened the neckline of her dress, which had settled
askew. No bra straps, does that mean no
bra or strapless? He determined to find out as soon as it was sensible.
    Mason laughed. "Chemistry more like, and not
the romantic hearts and flowers sort. The oh shit, it's a long time since anyone kissed me and I'd forgotten what
it was like sort." It would have sounded better if she spoke as if she
believed what she said.
    Enough was enough.
    "Mason, if you don't want me to ignore the table
downstairs and take you bound and naked over this table upstairs, I suggest you
shut up." Callan spoke with as much authority as he could muster, when his
insides jumped around like a flea in a circus, his brain on several wavelengths
at once—all designed to make him as horny as hell.
    The look of contempt she threw him should have been
enough to cool his ardor. Instead, the brief flare of arousal he saw in her
eyes before she shuttered them increased his determination to feel her under
him, in every which way, and to hear her soft sighs and mewls, and rejoice as
she called him Sir.
    "Do we carry on?" he asked in an even
voice, which showed none of the emotion that scorched him. His stomach churned,
the hairs on his arms stood on end, and goose bumps tingled as they bombarded
his arms. Callan swallowed rapidly as the metallic taste of true, deep down fear
hit him. It was new to him, and he didn't like it one bit. What if she says no? I'll have to grow up and give up. It wasn't