The Bound Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

wasn’t rejecting her because of the brace or her limp. He even seemed to like how she looked. If he had rejected her for any of those reasons, she would feel able to cope with it. Know from experience, how to move on.
    The shop bell rang on the other side of the landing door. The voices were muffled and then fading as they walked into the warren of shelving in the bookshop on the other side.
    If she stayed here, Mr. Edwards would lock up and have to come down past her.
    Her hand gripped at the rail.
    She should step through the door into the bookshop and out the front door. Go back to work and put this down to yet another one of her frustrating Fridays, just a very different type of frustrating. Let Martha come with the deliveries next time. Stay away from the strange and impossible Mr. Edwards.
    The problem was her body was blazing. Her thighs were so sensitive that the movement of her dress on her drawers made her hips want to roll and sway as if the air would thrust into her and ease the tension.
    Then there were his kisses. Deep, thick strokes that made her want to slip her hand against herself and mew as she mimicked those tongue strokes with the movements of her fingers.
    After two years making her deliveries, the tight pull between them was something any woman with a bit of experience would recognize. The blazing hungry looks he gave then somehow switched off.
    She came every Friday to feel that pull knowing one day it would catch.
    Today it had.
    Yet he had held back, fought with himself. She understood now that he was most likely always going to push her away, always going to make sure he didn’t take too much of what was offered.
    Men usually clamored to get a feel of what a woman had under her skirts. Not him.
    The stairs continued down into a shadowy darkness to the basement. Going back to work and focusing on preparing another delivery was impossible. They wouldn’t complain; this establishment was one of their best customers. If she said she’d been asked to stay and go through product, Mr. Tilbrook would be happy.
    At the next landing, a slice of light guided her down the last few steps. She pushed the old door at the bottom open and entered the small storeroom. A desk, shelves, a single gas lamp, it functioned as an office of sorts behind the counter of the bookshop’s belowground sex shop, The Velvet Basement.
    Olive placed her basket on the narrow sideboard near the door and took the few steps to the curtain, which led to the back of the shop’s counter, and stepped through.
    “Olive, what you doing ‘ere?” Evie was a petite blonde with an hourglass figure, who made all the men who came into the shop lasciviously obedient.
    “Just stopping to say hello.”
    Evie’s eyes rolled. “You’ve been up there again.”
    The misery must be plain on her face. All she managed was a nod before a customer came to the counter. The man flushed scarlet on seeing her and placed a large stone member on the counter along with a jar of augment. How far can a man sink into a coat? A long way. It was Mr. Russel the owner of the butcher’s shop.
    “Two pounds.” A ransom. Evie’s voice was full of lightness as if what she had in her hand and was wrapping up were a bunch of tulips he was taking home to his wife.
    “We have some ivory ones coming in next month. Very pretty. All carved on the bottom.” She tilted the big dildo and pointed to the flat bit at the base. “Little pictures of naughty bits, you know.”
    Mr. Russel seemed to creep out of the folds of his coat as Evie talked. She had a way like that. You could talk to her about anything. Really, she had seen it all and looked like an angel who waived forgiveness on every depraved thing that crossed the counter.
    Evie placed the package partially wrapped back on the counter and leaned across to Mr. Russel and dropped her voice. “Did you see the strap? It goes very well with this.” She tapped the package. “Holds it in…you know…in case you want