I knew without knowing how that he knew what those ropes were for.

And now I knew there was a good possibility he was going to think I was a kinky freak.

His face was impassive. Completely.

I felt my face flush and my throat close, my gaze locked to his.

He spoke first and he did it low, his voice giving nothing away, just like his expression.

“You like to be tied up, Cassidy?”

Oh God. I was right. He knew what they were for and he thought I was a kinky freak.

I felt my stomach churn and forced myself to speak but my voice was weak when it came out. “I bought those when I was with Grant.”

“You bought ’em?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“For him.”

I swallowed and shook my head.

The room filled with something I did not get but it scared the crap out of me.

“For you?” Deacon pressed.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His tone had a rough edge I couldn’t read when he repeated, “You like to be tied up?”

I didn’t answer him.

Instead, I informed him, “It didn’t work.”

His head tipped slightly to the side but his face still gave nothing away. “It didn’t work.”

“We only, um…tried them once and Grant didn’t know what he was doing. It hurt. He got freaked then pissed and it was…well, not enjoyable.”

More bad filled the air when he asked, “It hurt?”

I nodded.

“He hurt you,” he stated flatly.

“He didn’t know what he was doing,” I repeated.

“How’d he bind you?”

Oh God. This was a disaster.

“Do we have to do this?” I asked. “They were only used once. It was just a wild hair I got. I should have thrown them away.”

“How’d he bind you, Cassidy?”

I shook my head, guessing as to what was behind his line of questioning. “He’s gone and when we tried it, it didn’t hurt for long. He untied me and we never tried it again. There’s no need to get angry at him. He didn’t mean to hurt me and anyway, we’ve been over for years.”

Something moved over his features that, again, I could not read.

“How did he bind you, Cassidy?”

I gave in.

“Like I requested,” I said quietly. “Um…on my knees, head down, hands to feet.”

That was when he gave me something. His jaw got hard.

“Deacon, it was my idea,” I told him quickly. “It was an adventure. Something I got stuck in my head.” God, could this be more embarrassing? “It wasn’t Grant’s fault he didn’t know how to do it.”

“You bind to the bed,” he declared and I blinked.

“Sorry?”

“You don’t start out complicated,” he explained. “You bind your woman immobile to the bed, see if she can take that, see if she gets off on it, see how much she gets off on it. She comes hard for you, that’s when you explore.”

Oh my God.

“Have you—?” I began.

“Four women, none of them worked, not for me, ’cause I didn’t give a shit about them. But it worked for them.”

Oh my God.

I felt my nipples start tingling.

Deacon kept speaking.

“You’re ready, you’re used to takin’ it from me vanilla, you trust me, you make the call. I tie you to the bed and hope like fuck you come hard for me.”

“You like it,” I said softly.

“Yeah, though never did it with someone who matters so doin’ it with you, wildest dreams.”

Wildest dreams.

My clit pulsed.

“Is this what you meant about playing?” I asked.

“Part of it.”

Just part?

“What’re the other parts?”

“There are a lot of other parts.”

Could you have an orgasm standing fully clothed six feet from your man?

I had a feeling I was about to find out.

“Give me a for instance,” I demanded.

“You like ropes, I bind you. Wrists to feet like you want, ass in the air for me to play with, eat you, fuck your cunt, take your hole, all of that and you won’t be able to move.”

I swallowed and locked my legs so I wouldn’t go down.

He read my reaction from six feet away. I knew it when he whispered, “You want that.”

I couldn’t agree verbally but I knew my expression gave it away for me.

“Ass play?” he pushed.

I swallowed again.

Grant and I had tried that too. It also hadn’t worked. Not because I didn’t like it, I did. A lot. But because he got so excited when he took me, he’d come on the second stroke. He’d been humiliated and never tried it again, never even brought it up. Because it mortified him, I didn’t either.

Deacon stared at me, the mask slipping, his eyes getting hotter, his face darkening, and finally he spoke.

“Fuck, can you get any better?”

God, that felt good.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“I do,” he returned. “Face made up, hair like that, a bra I wanna see, every day it gets fuckin’ better.”

Feelings so beautiful swept through me, I closed my eyes so I could concentrate on their exquisiteness.

“Here,” Deacon ordered.

I opened my eyes. “I can’t. I’m still freaked about what playing means at the same time processing how magnificent you are.”

That was when the mask obliterated and raw suffused his face.

Not raw badness.

Raw goodness.

I gave that to him. Me. All that goodness there for me to read on his face, it was me who gave that to him.

My heart leaped.

“Here,” he growled.

My heart stopped leaping and my lips turned down. “Seriously, you’re gonna have to stop doing that. You want me, I’m right here.”

I said the words and then Deacon was right there. He’d tossed the ropes to the bed and when he made it to me, his hand clutched in my done up hair, his other arm around me holding me snug to his body, face an inch from mine.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, but a pain in my goddamned ass,” he muttered.

“Same here, Supreme Leader of the Badasses.”

“Case in point.”

“You’re messing up my hair.”

“Another case in point.”

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stand there, messing up my hair and annoying me?”

He stared into my eyes and changed the subject.

“One woman on the planet who doesn’t need makeup, she’s you.”