TiedandTwisted Read Online Free PDF Page B

use often.”
All business, he produced a small notepad and a pen.
    Smothering a strange sense of disappointment—irrational,
because she’d asked him to come by for business—Jovanna led him on a
cursory tour. The two-bedroom townhouse didn’t have much square footage for
them to cover. David made notes while she talked.
    At the threshold of her bedroom, he stopped. Jovanna turned
to find him looking at her rumpled bed. Maybe she made a sound. He raised his
eyes and met hers. Something electric sizzled between them, struck like
lightning low in her stomach. She wanted to strip naked and spread him out on
her sun-warmed sheets. She wanted to slide down onto his cock and watch his
gray-blue eyes, dark now with awareness, roll back in his head.
    “I need to give you something.” The words rumbled, low and
rough down her spine. The timbre of his voice didn’t come anywhere close to
professional. He produced a small, square envelope from his shirt pocket and
she knew .
    Her breathing stuttered to a stop. Jovanna stared at the
Bondage logo on the envelope.
    “I have to open the shop,” she said. “You should lock the
doors before you go. Don’t worry about the coffee pot. It’s on a timer.”
    She tried to dodge around him but he filled the doorway.
Strong fingers caught her biceps, drew her up short. “Jovanna—”
    “I have to go,” she repeated, unwilling to stand still long
enough to figure out how she felt about this. About submitting to him, having
close-enough-to-sex with him. Finding comfort and security in his presence.
    With a frustrated growl, he crumpled the envelope and shoved
it down the front of her corset. His fingertips lingered across the tops of her
breasts. Her nipples swelled behind the stiff stays, stabbed uncomfortably into
the brocade.
    “Jovanna,” he said again. Just her name.
    She shook her head sharply and jerked away, still not ready
to stop and think. “I’m going to be late.”
    She fled to the safety of her dyes and fibers.
    Three hours later, the Saturday retail crowd hit its
late-lunch lull. Jovanna left her weekend clerk and half a dozen teenagers
knitting and chatting on the sofa while she sneaked out for midday coffee. Over
a latte and bagel, she checked her text messages. She scrolled past the
messages from friends and, reluctant but sickly curious, opened the text from
David.
    I
DIDN’T SET OUT LOOKING FOR YOU.
    Jovanna removed the envelope from her cleavage and stared at
the neat writing across the back of the note she’d sent. I want you again.
    HOW
DID YOU RECOGNIZE ME? she texted. And, a moment later, WHEN DID YOU?
    WILL
YOU HAVE DINNER WITH ME?
    HOW/WHEN?
    YOUR
IVY VINE. IT’S DISTINCTIVE.
    YOU
KNEW BEFORE YOU FUCKED ME.
    I
DIDN’T FUCK YOU.
    Heart pounding, she pushed her phone aside and brooded into
her coffee. David had violated something, some trust she hadn’t seen growing.
Not by playing with her, not by joining her in the Blue Suite, but by hiding
behind his mask after stripping off hers.
    Two texts came through. She ignored them. When the phone
rang—David on the caller ID—she ended the call before the second ring.
    “This can’t be happening,” she muttered, glaring at her
untouched bagel. Conversation and laughter ebbed and flowed around her as small
groups of people caught up and unwound over their caffeine fixes. No laughter
at her table. Just drama.
    Physical attraction to David Burke—she could deal with that.
Even embrace it. She was far from virginal and had strict rules about her sexual
habits, but in general she had no qualms about sex. Sex and attraction were
healthy. She could deal with wanting him. Strip away his name and his recent
role in her life, put a flogger in his hand, and hell yes. She’d have to be a
corpse not to react.
    The everything-else ruined the sex though. For some reason,
or a combination of reasons, he’d become more than sex.
    Yeah. She blew out a breath and stared sightlessly at the
street outside. His position