All Tied Up: Pleasure Inn, Book 1 (2 page)

Chapter Two

Hands in her pockets, Lindsay walked the perimeter of the upstairs bedroom and wondered why Pamina had chosen such a small room for her to decorate. How she was going to fit an eclectic mix of bondage equipment in such a tight space, she’d never know. She angled her head, envisioning the design and layout. Damn, it just wasn’t going to work. The king-sized headboard alone would eat up half the space. Not to mention the padded bench and love swing that she’d ordered earlier that morning. Lord, if two people engaged in a little lighthearted sexual play in such cramped quarters, someone was liable to put an eye out.

Just then Pamina’s fat black cat, Abra, sauntered into the room. Purring, he jumped onto the windowsill and with his piercing feline eyes, watched her every movement. His low purr grew louder and louder, as though demanding her undivided attention.

Lindsay stepped up to him. “Okay, okay.” Good Lord, how the heck was she supposed to concentrate while he made such a racket? After a couple of quick strokes of his silky fur, she crossed her arms and turned her attention back to the drab walls, considering her options. Pushing away from the window, she trailed her hand along one papered wall until she came across a tattered seam. Using a long manicured nail, she worked the edge free and ripped, disheartened to find six or more layers underneath. It’d be a bitch to peel, but at least only one of the four walls had paper on it. The other three were painted in a brownish yellow color that reminded her of doggy droppings. Ugh. It had to go. Lindsay envisioned deep, dark earthy tones as a backdrop to soft sconce lighting and mirrored walls and ceilings.

Pondering the task before her, she joined Abra on the windowsill. Although she’d never had an affinity for cats, and this one actually kind of creeped her out with his inquisitive eyes, she scooped him into her arms and sized him up.

Feigning exhaustion after lifting him, she drew a ragged breath. “Good Lord, Abra, I think we’re going to have to talk to Candace about getting you on a regular exercise program. Maybe you could go with her on one of her runs.” Lindsay reached under his belly and grabbed a fistful of fat cat. “Either that or you’re going to have to get out and find yourself a girlfriend and work off some of this extra padding.”

Ignoring her, he nestled his chubby little body into her arms, where he lazily proceeded to groom himself. Lindsay shook her head as he thoroughly disregarded her.

Typical male.

Shifting her thoughts to the task at hand, Lindsay inspected the room once again. Her gaze settled on the only piece of furniture, an ugly, yellow oversized recliner, which practically took up the whole space. That had to go too.

“What do you think, Abra?” She cut her hand through the air. “Too small?” Abra purred and nestled his face against her chest. His whiskers tickled her skin as his rough tongue lapped at her cleavage like it was a saucer of milk. Startled, she leapt from the windowsill and gasped.

“Whoa there, big guy.” She eased his head away, feeling a little perverted at the way her nipples tightened. Okay, obviously it had been far too long since a man had given her breasts a tongue bath.

When she met Abra’s blue almond-shaped eyes, his tongue darted out to lick his lips, and she could have sworn he just winked at her. “You really are a typical male, aren’t you? One-track mind, straight for the milk jugs.”

“Will you never learn?”

Pamina’s voice sounded at the doorway. As if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or rather his face buried in Lindsay’s breasts, Abra jumped to the floor and scurried into the hall.

Pamina arched a brow, her lips thinned to a fine line. “Not so fast, pal.” She scooped him up before he could dart down the staircase and cast him a look that suggested he was in all kinds of trouble. For a moment Lindsay pondered their strange relationship.

Suddenly someone stepped up behind Pamina and gained Lindsay’s full attention. A very big, very brawny, very slurpalicious someone. And no longer was Pamina and Abra’s strange relationship of any interest to her.

Pamina moved farther into the room, the mysterious stranger shadowing her movements. Captivated by Pamina’s new friend, Lindsay scraped her teeth over her bottom lip and watched his strong, athletic body move with self-confidence and assuredness. When he circled Pamina and came around to face Lindsay, their gazes connected and locked. In that moment something sparked between them and a weird tingling began in her bloodstream.

Lindsay didn’t believe in love at first sight, nor did she believe in fate or destiny, but this guy, wow, this guy with his mesmerizing blue eyes could suck her under like a tsunami wave and make her believe in anything.

He smiled and Lindsay’s pulse leapt in her throat. Her lascivious, sex-deprived body immediately shifted into overdrive. One seductive look from him had her hormones firing at jet speed in record time.

His long athletic gait closed the space between them. As he stood before her, she tipped her head and pulled his spicy, panty-soaking aroma into her lungs, letting it wrap around her, letting it arouse all her senses. Lord, the man just oozed sexuality and testosterone.

Her gaze panned the length of him, stopping to inspect his broad shoulders, trim waist and rock-hard thighs. She wondered for a second if anything else under those snug jeans was rock hard. Damned if she didn’t want to find out.

Whew!

Had the temperature in the room suddenly skyrocketed?

Once again her hungry gaze traveled back to his face, taking in his dark features, unkempt shoulder-length hair, with bangs that swished to the side, square jaw and unshaven face. The guy had bad boy written all over him. Lindsay knew his type well. A Casanova who was, undoubtedly, so very, very good. Just the kind of guy she knew better than to get involved with.

Despite that, lust rose to the surface, clamoring for attention and all she could think of was men. Sex. Men and sex. And not necessarily in that order. Forget nailing jelly to the wall. She wanted this guy to nail
her
to the wall.

Right here.

Right now.

Of course, this is what she got for going without sex for the last two months. It appeared that a quick trip back to Toys4Gals to pick up extra batteries and maybe even a few new gadgets was definitely in order. She made a mental note to put that at the top of her to-do list.

Mr. Slurpalicious gave her a sexy, predatory smile that screamed of the big bad wolf—and of even bigger and badder things they could do together. Libidinous slut that she was, she pondered for a moment if he would gobble her up like a frosted cupcake. Or if he’d lay her out like a buffet and take his time to savor her like a rich, decadent dessert.

Yummy.

After a thorough inspection of his tall, brawny body, her gaze went to his big hands. Damn, there was just something about a man’s hands that got her juices flowing like a broken dam. She noted that he had a working man’s hands, different from the soft, pampered hands of the good-for-nothing bastards she had a habit of attracting. Lindsay afforded herself a minute to visualize how those rough, callused palms of his would feel on her naked flesh, on her breasts, between her thighs. Oh yeah! She shivered. Almost violently.

A man like him could make her abandon her vow to stay away from men. She furrowed her brow and sifted through her memories. Why again was it that she’d made that vow?

When Pamina touched his muscular arm and he turned, giving her his undivided attention, a weird pang of jealousy cut through Lindsay.

“I’d like you to meet Lindsay Bell,” Pamina said. “She’s the brilliant interior designer I hired to turn this space into a BDSM room for lovers.”

Lips curved up at the corners, he angled his head, clearly intrigued. “Oh yeah?”

Heat arced between them as he stepped closer and held his arm out. Her body responded to his proximity. Pleasure raced through her and she became hyper-aware of dampness between her thighs. Had she been wearing panties, they’d have been soaked.

She attempted to rein in her desire, to pull herself together and abandon her lusty thoughts, she really did. But so far her efforts were proving futile.

His sensual mouth slanted and the gleam in his eyes held all sorts of promises. “A BDSM room. How interesting. I look forward to seeing the end results.”

She made one more attempt to gather control over her wayward thoughts, but his deep sensuous voice shattered all her efforts. In fact his rich tone sent her tortured, hormonal body into convulsions. Her nipples tightened painfully, heat and hunger lapped at her thighs.

It suddenly occurred to her he was waiting for a handshake. With little finesse, she thrust her arm forward and slipped her hand inside his. His huge palm practically swallowed hers up. As her flesh absorbed his heat, her libido roared to life in a way it never had before. Christ, she knew she had a healthy sexual appetite, but the sudden cravings for this man both frightened and excited her.

She schooled her features into polite interest while her hormones danced to the beat of that eighties AC/DC song “You Shook Me All Night Long”.

“I’m Lindsay,” she said.

He grinned and shot her a wolfish look. Assuring her, that with a huff and a puff he could blow her house down. Except it wasn’t a house Lindsay was interested in him blowing. Damn, this celibacy thing was definitely playing havoc with her body…and her mind. She needed to get her thoughts off sex and on to the conversation at hand.

“I’m Lindsay,” she repeated.

“I know,” he said. “Lindsay Bell.”

“How do you know my name?” Looking for a distraction, anything to get her mind off Mr. Sexy Pants, Lindsay grabbed the overstuffed chair and began to slide it toward the doorway. Damn, the thing was heavy.

“Pamina already introduced you.” His slow smile licked over her thighs and filled her mind with wild and wicked images.

Right! Damn. She was making a total ass of herself, which was something she never did. Christ, no man had ever had that effect on her before. She’d always maintained a cool, in-charge demeanor.

She strived for normalcy and tried not to stumble over her words. “And you are?” she asked, expecting his name to begin with big and end in wolf.
Expecting?
Okay, okay, maybe
hoping
was a better choice of words.

“I’m Brad Caldwell.”

Damn.

His gaze roamed over her and his deep, big-bad-wolf tone sent shivers skittering down her spine, making her suddenly wish she was draped in a red cape and covered in icing.

“Pamina asked me to stop by to chat with you.”

“Oh?” Lindsay turned to face Pamina, heavy chair forgotten.

Pamina waved one delicate hand through the air. “I thought Brad could take down that wall and open this room up for you.”

Lindsay glanced at the papered wall and considered that option. Not a bad idea. “That would certainly beat the hell out of peeling all that paper off.”

Face locked in concentration, Brad stepped up to the wall and ran his fingers over the aged paper. Lindsay’s stomach tightened and her knees weakened as she envisioned him running his hands over her body just like that.

Oh my!

Common sense dictated that she decline the offer and make do with the small room. Yeah, that’s exactly what she’d do. Decline Pamina’s suggestion to take down the wall and just make the best out of the cramped quarters. Because having him around for the next week or so would simply distract her and play havoc with her hormones. And since she’d sworn off men, it was a distraction she didn’t want or need. No way. No how.

Brad turned to face her. “So, what do you say, Lindsay? Would you like me to hang around and take down that wall for you?”

Hang around.

Take down the wall.

Strip her naked.

Have his wicked way with her.

With casual nonchalance, he rolled one broad shoulder. “I could even help you out with the bondage equipment, if you’d like.”

Help her out? As in try it out with her?

Hell yeah, she liked.

Brad picked up the overstuffed chair and with little effort moved it into the hallway. “You know, in case you need a strong arm to lift things.” His words said one thing but the heat in his eyes told an entirely different story. One that could easily get her into trouble with another bad boy. She quickly reminded herself why she’d sworn off sweet-talking playboys in the first place.

“So what do you say?” he asked again as her mind reeled.

Say no, say no.

“Yes.”

Damn!

Brad blew out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Sure he was relieved Lindsay had hired him. The extra funds would come in handy to help pay for his medical-school prep classes. But, he had to admit, there was one other big reason he was pleased he’d gotten the job.

And that reason was Lindsay Bell.

There was something about her. The minute their eyes met and locked, heat simmered between them. It was a heat unlike anything he’d experienced before. A heat that he was definitely interested in exploring further. He suspected she felt it too. In fact, the way her eyes devoured him with hunger, he was most certain of it.

Lindsay Bell, smart and beautiful, with her curvaceous body, sassy outfit, and desire to create a lovers BDSM room, had bad girl written all over her.

He knew her type all too well. She was the kind of girl who’d undoubtedly see him as someone she’d be interested in delving into a brief, no-strings affair with. He’d come to expect that from women.

He knew people were quick to judge him and dub him a go-nowhere kind of guy just because he worked as a handyman in the family business—a steady, respectable business that had been handed down in the Caldwell family from generation to generation. People really had no idea what went into running such a successful operation.

Even though Brad enjoyed the labor-intensive work, he’d always had a yearning to break away from the pack and do something different with his life. Unfortunately no one in his family, or in his community, had supported his dream to become a doctor. They all thought it was ridiculous really, and even the night classes and correspondence courses he’d taken over the years to get his science degree didn’t seem to sway their minds. The women he knew assumed because he swung a hammer, he was all brawn and no brains. They saw him as a great guy to have sex with, and nothing more.