One Hot Winter Break (Yardley College Chronicles Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

woman up?”
    “I like to be creative,” he says. “Sometimes I’ll tie you up when you’re spread-eagled on the bed so I can fuck your sweet pussy. Or have you lie on your stomach, which allows me to do naughty things to your lovely ass. I might tie your ankles and hands together, and arrange you in interesting positions to fuck you. Would you like to be bound hand and foot while you suck my cock, Mia?”
    His voice is low, soft, so innately sexual it makes my pussy throb. Emotions swirl and crash in me like water over the reef. I have to be honest. “The idea of being tied up excites me. But—”
    “But there’s more?” Jonathon’s voice is gentle, inquisitive.
    I may be about to disappoint him, but I’m not afraid to be honest with him. “You know I’ve known abuse,” I say very softly. “I thought I could look at anything as a fun, hot game. A fantasy. But I’m afraid that being a submissive might be just too close to what I’ve been through in my past.”
    “Don’t worry. This is completely different. You always have the power to say no, to stop the game, even when you’re tied up. The fantasy has nothing to do with what you’ve been through. You will always be in control. And you remember the rules of my clubs: safe, sane, consensual.”
    “You will be the one holding the spanking paddle,” I point out, my voice quiet.
    “I will only take you as far as you want to go this week.”
    But after that? I have boundaries—I just don’t know yet exactly what they are. I suspect this week is going to make me figure them out.
    When I know what my limits are, how close do I want to flirt with them? Would I be willing to cross them for a man as gorgeous, as understanding, as powerful and tempting as Jonathon?

    ***

    Our car purrs into a semi-circular drive and stops beneath a soaring concrete canopy, a beautiful feature that ripples and undulates like a sail and defies its material. We pass through gold-tinted sliding doors onto the huge floor of a foyer with a tall, bubbling fountain in the middle. The reception area has vaulted ceilings. Palms stand in enormous ceramic pots.
    A woman in a white suit approaches Jonathon before he even takes a step toward the reception desk. “Mr. Powell, how delightful to see you again this year. Your usual suite is ready. Champagne is already chilling. Benjamin will bring up your bags.”
    At once, a grey-haired man with deep bronze skin comes forward, pushing a shining brass luggage cart. He gives Jonathon a beaming smile. “Good afternoon, sir,” he says.
    “Benjamin, I thought you had retired last year,” Jonathon says, shaking the man’s hand.
    “I got too bored with nothing to do,” the older man says.
    “This is Mia Reynolds,” Jonathon says, “My lady friend.” He introduces Benjamin as the backbone of Azure , which makes the man laugh and protest, but I can tell Benjamin is totally charmed.
    Jonathon can do that. He can make you melt, make you adore him. Then, sometimes he is elusive, quiet, reserved. He’s like Gatsby, watching silently over his guests at his parties, an isolated orchestrator with a mysterious past. (Even though I’m studying architecture, I’d loved English literature in high school.)
    Other times, Jonathon is stubborn, as he was with Lara about his bondage needs. And then he can be the Jonathon I know—a blend of all these things; kind, protective, and the most amazing friend in the world.
    I start to put my bags on the cart to save Benjamin the strain, but he rushes over and takes them from me. I suppose I’ve made a mistake, shown I don’t belong in this world, but I don’t care. It’s true that I have no experience with an exclusive resort, and I’m not going to pretend I have. I have to be myself.
    I’m more worried that my past—and all its baggage—will end up ruining this potential relationship with Jonathon.
    Our luggage is loaded on a wheeled cart that is attached to another fancy golf cart. Then we are