TiedandTwisted Read Online Free PDF

at the hard edge of urgency in his tone. She
frowned at the warm puddle of comfort she derived from the sound of his voice.
And the even warmer puddle of something else. “I’m—yeah.”
    She exhaled, started again. “I’m having an issue. It’s not
an emergency. Can you schedule me for a consultation tomorrow? Maybe an
installation?”
    He held silent on the other end of the line. She counted to
ten, was about to write him off for a dropped call, when he finally said, “When
do you want me?”
    With no other provocation, her pussy began to throb. She
pressed her thighs together, failed to keep the raw, husky dip from her voice.
“I have to open the store at eleven on Saturdays. If you can be here by 10:30,
I can let you in before I go.”
    “I’ll be there.” He hesitated, added, “Have you called the
police?”
    After Wednesday’s break-in, she didn’t have to ask how he
knew. The reminder served to suppress her reviving arousal. “They’re sending
someone over now. I should go so I can meet them at the door.”
    “I’m not far away if you want me to stop by tonight.”
    “I’m all right. It wasn’t a break-in. The morning’s soon
enough.” The chime of her doorbell jump-started her pulse. Jovanna stood and
forced herself to leave the bathroom. “I have to get the door.”
    “Verify it’s the cops before you let anyone inside,” he
warned. “I’ll wait until you know.”
    True to his word, David remained on the line until the
officers outside confirmed their identity.

Chapter Three
    Saturday, 9:30 a.m.
     
    Every muscle in her body was deliciously stiff. Jovanna
stretched in the yellow arrow of sunlight angling through her window, imagined
she could feel individual threads of her six-hundred-thread-count sheets
against her overly sensitized skin. She loved being fucked on her luxurious
sheets. Adored the exquisite sensation of bare skin against bare skin on clean,
crisp cotton.
    Closing her eyes, she reached for the thick vibrator stashed
in her nightstand. Not as satisfying as the strength of a man between her legs,
but as her session in the Blue Suite had proven, adequate for getting the job
done. The alarm clock shrieked in protest, warning her of the time. Reminding
her of the store, of the break-in, of the message on her door during the night.
    Abruptly cold, she rose and hurried through a shower.
Hurried because she didn’t want to leave herself naked, wet and blind long
enough for anybody to sneak up on her. The paranoia she’d been battling since Wednesday
night had ratcheted to outright fear last night while the police questioned her
about possible suspects. Just like Wednesday, she had nothing to offer. No
names except her ex-husband’s, whose alibi, according to the police, was
iron-clad. She didn’t even really believe Paul would have hired someone to come
after her, which would have accounted for the average build of the intruder.
How twisted that she wanted Paul to be the threat if only because he could be
identified?
    Fear stalked her into her sunny kitchen and kept her company
while she started a pot of coffee. Fear stuck around until David texted notice
of his arrival an instant prior to ringing the doorbell.
    She opened the door to his dark glower. Taken aback, she
retreated a step. “Uh, good morning?”
    “Is this from last night?” He tapped the words painted on
her storm door.
    “Yeah. He used oil-based paint. I tried Windex. No luck.”
    “If you have a screen, I’ll put it in. Not as energy
efficient, but at least you won’t have to look at it when you get home
tonight.” He stepped inside, crowding her in the tiny foyer.
    The spicy scent of his aftershave hit her hard, familiar but
elusive. “Coffee?” she invited, trying to place the olfactory memory.
    “Let me take a look around first. I want to walk around to
the back and if you have time, I’d like to get an idea of your living habits.
What rooms you occupy at what times of day, what rooms you don’t