He paused. “Why are you glad?”

  “Why? Geez, Gavin, what do you want from me?”

  “It’s a simple question. Why are you glad?”

  She rolled onto her side to face him, resting her head on her upper arm. “Because I like my new boots.”

  “Your new—” He clamped his jaw shut with a furious look.

  She bit back her smile. Why had she never known how fun it was to tease Gavin, the mighty hockey coach? She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had fun like this, just lying around talking. Maybe never. “And that outfit is going to look great at the frame shop.”

  “Oh really?” He rolled on top of her and braced his hands on either side of her body. Cords of muscles stood out on his forearms. His hair tumbled over his forehead. He looked divine.

  “But I think I’ll skip the thong. It’s a little itchy.”

  “Itchy? You know what’s good for an itch, don’t you?” A devil’s gleam lurked in his black eyes.

  “What?”

  “A good scratch.” He reached one arm to her sex and tickled her still-sensitive flesh. Little ripples of pleasure radiated along her inner thighs all the way to the soles of her feet. She sighed deeply.

  “You like my scratching?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Better than scrapbooking?” The tickle intensified to a full-on fingering.

  “Well…” She gave him a demure look from under her eyelashes. She dearly loved scrapbooking, as he well knew. It allowed her to express her artistic side and relax at the same time. “I don’t know. The scissors, the glitter, the stickers. The glue. There’s just something about scrapbooking…”

  The next thing she knew, her arms had been yanked up over her head, held tight in one of his big hands. She gave a startled yelp. The black fabric he’d used on her ankles before appeared in his other hand.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you something to put in your next scrapbook.” He quickly tied one of her wrists to a bedpost. Her other hand flew out of his grasp and pushed at him. “Oh no you don’t. You brought this on. You’re not getting out of it now. Scrapbooking, my ass.”

  “I didn’t mean it. I was just teasing.” She gasped as he fastened her other wrist to the far post.

  “Teasing? Good word. You’re about to learn the true meaning of it.” He ran his hands roughly down her body, tweaking each nipple and landing on her mound. His warmth cupped her. Hot desire immediately pooled in her belly. Embarrassed by her quick response, she clamped her thighs together and swung her bent legs to one side.

  “Not a chance,” he growled. He tickled her between her thighs until she moaned. As soon as she let her guard drop, he grabbed her right ankle and walked it over to the post at the foot of the bed. Before she could comprehend it, she was spread-eagled and bound, exposed and nude. Her breath came in quick spurts. Her throat tightened. She wanted to say something in protest—she ought to say something!—but the words refused to leave her mouth. It felt too daring, too forbidden, too exciting. She couldn’t stand it. And yet she had to have it.

  Gavin stood at the foot of the bed, holding his giant erection in his fist. “God, do you have any idea how sexy you look? I could come so hard right now, just looking at you.” His intense gaze swept her body. Hot tingles told her when each particular part of her body was the focus of his attention. Under his scrutiny, her nipples rose. Her breath skipped. Her hips squirmed.

  “Do it,” she said, her voice a tiny squeak. “Go ahead and come.” Maybe he’d let her go after that.

  “I will. In good time. First…” He bent down out of sight. She heard the squeak of the trunk opening—the same trunk where he’d gotten the cloth ties. This time he surfaced with an armful of soft furry-looking stuff in colors ranging from hot pink to fuchsia. Her body relaxed. She couldn’t be scared of pink fur, could she?

  She should have been.

  In Gavin’s hands, a long feathery boa became a torture device. He snaked it all across her body until every hair stood at attention. Then he focused on her breasts. The soft friction made her gasp and twist against her bonds. She wanted more, something harder, something that would distract her from this too-light torment. But he’d tied the restraints well. There was nowhere she could go to escape.

  “Please,” she heard herself whisper. “Please, Gavin.”

  “Please what?” His voice was husky. “Do you want me to stop? Or do you want me to go further? If I stop, you’ll lie here like this all night. You’ll get no satisfaction. Is that what you want?”

  He swished the boa across her sex. She bit back a scream.

  “No,” she said.

  “What do you want?” The boa slithered across her belly, back to her breasts.

  Part of her hated him for doing this to her. God, it was hard saying what she wanted. She spat the words at him. “More. Harder. You’re driving me crazy.”

  He smiled smugly. “All you had to do was ask.” He lowered his head to her nipples and surrounded one aching peak with his mouth.

  She cried out at the shocking, intense pleasure and arched against him as a jolt of pure adrenaline rocketed to her pussy. He sucked deeply, taking nearly her whole breast into his mouth. He kneaded her other breast, squeezing the nipple almost to the edge of pain. Something shattered inside her, like brilliant waves breaking on the rocks—could it be an orgasm? Impossible. No one could orgasm through their nipples, could they?

  Whatever it was, it didn’t even take the edge off her craving. When he lifted his head from her nipple, he wore the pink boa around his neck. She stared at him with naked pleading. Sweat dripped down her face.

  He cocked his head at her. “What now? Want a break?”

  She shook her head frantically. If he left her now, she might die. Her body pulsed with need. She’d never felt like this, so dependent on another person. On a man. It terrified her.

  “What do you want? Tell me.”

  Why was Gavin doing this to her? “Sex. I want to have sex.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I guess that’ll do for now.”

  She didn’t know what that meant, but soon after she didn’t really care anymore, because he slid down her body and placed his lips on her pussy. Electric thrills rippled through her. She raised her hips in the air, either to press against his mouth or to flee from it, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, because he was dictating. He gripped her hips in his hands and held her still while he devoured her. Sharp cries burst from her mouth. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Nowhere to escape the fierce, unstoppable assault of his mouth.

  She wanted to cover herself, but when she tugged at the bindings they dug deeper into her wrists and ankles. The flesh of her inner thighs shook like leaves on a birch tree. Her sex was slick with her arousal, impossible to hide. She imagined her lower lips thick, swollen, obscene. And yet Gavin couldn’t seem to get enough. He ran his tongue along her folds, brought her clit deep into his hot mouth. He sucked and tasted and prodded until the faraway drumbeat thundered closer and she knew she’d never be able to hold back.

  “Come for me,” he urged, lifting his head to spear her with his black gaze.

  She shook her head from side to side. She was an under-the-covers girl, a lights-off girl, a keep-her-nightgown-on girl. How could she come spread open in front of him like this? Facedown was one thing, but this… It wasn’t her. It just wasn’t.

  And then…it was. Gavin thrust his fingers inside her, rubbing his wrist against her clit and driving her up and up into a wild world where it didn’t matter how loud she shouted, how shamelessly she writhed, how hard she begged for more. And then there was more. There was Gavin sheathing himself in her wide-open body. Driving her up all over again with his implacable hardness. Then he freed her ankles and shoved her knees against her shoulders. How could she be even more exposed? Yet she was. Staring into her eyes, he thumbed open her still-throbbing pussy and claimed her. She took him deep, so deep, to the deepest part of herself, where all the shadows lurked.

  She surrendered to the feeling of being utterly possessed. A flash of dazzling light raced through her, an orgasm so deep it was more of a detonation. An incineration. An end to everything she thought she knew about herself.

  And then there was nothing.

  When she recovered her senses, she found Gavin staring at her with a worried look. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, then cleared her throat. She was curled up on her side. Gavin sat on the edge of the bed, his hand stroking her hip. He looked as shaken as she felt. His hair was damp with sweat. The whole room smelled of sex and need and release. They’d gone too far, too deep, too fast. Panic swamped her.

  She tried a little laugh. “Where did all that stuff come from?”

  He gave her a sharp look. “That stuff?”

  “I mean, you know. The…tying up and everything. What is that called? Bondage? S and M? Where’d you come up with all that?”

  “Don’t play games, Beth.” He fixed her with a stern look, as if she were one of his players. “It’s not about names or labels. It’s about you and me. What we want.”

  There he went again, talking about “want”. Was he going to try to pin her down again? “Right now I want a shower. Got that in your bag of tricks?”

  “No tricks, Beth.” Scowling, he braced himself over her, trapping her between his strong arms. “Just the truth.”

  His intent expression made her swallow hard.

  “Don’t try to laugh this off. I can’t go back to how things were. Living together but in different worlds. I never know what you’re thinking or what you need. You never tell me what you really want. How can I make you happy if I don’t know?”

  She bit her lip. “But, Gavin, you do make me happy.”

  “That’s a lie. I’m not falling for it. And I’m not telling any more lies myself. If we hadn’t done this,” he jerked his head at the cabin, “maybe I could go back to that limbo marriage of ours. I was being patient because you were grieving. But not anymore. Not now that I’ve seen what’s inside you.”

  A hot flush pricked her cheeks. She’d shown him more than any other human being had ever seen. And she’d liked it. More than that. She’d loved it. Truth was, she didn’t want to go back either.

  “There isn’t a problem, Gavin. I don’t mind doing this again. In fact, I want to do it again. It was…you were…amazing.” She put her hand on his hard thigh. The little black hairs felt silky to her touch. Really, she wouldn’t mind doing that exact same thing all over again. Images of the boa skimmed through her mind. The way he’d felt ramming into her from behind. The way he’d held her hips so tight. The way he’d bent her to his will, made her give him everything. She hadn’t held anything back.

  He shook off her hand. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not getting off that easy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This was my fantasy. I’ve wanted to tie you up and make you scream for mercy for a very long time. Ever since the gas station. You looked up at me with those smoky green eyes, all dreamy, head in the clouds, and I wanted you to think about me. Only me. I wanted to chase everything else out of your head while I drove you over the edge.”

  His forcefulness took her breath away. “I-I did. I mean, didn’t. It was exactly how you say.”

  “Yes. But now I want more.”

  She shook her head, confused.

  “I want the same thing from you. I showed you what I wanted. What do you want? What gets your wheels turning? What gets you hot and itchy and wet between the legs? What do you picture in your mind while we’re making love in the dark, under the covers? What do you see when you touch yourself?”

  The memory of her mother’s face that time she’d gotten caught scorched across her vision.

  “I don’t do that. My mother forbid it.”

  “Forbid it?”

  “She caught me once.”

  “Ouch.” He lifted one hand and brushed her damp hair from her face. “Sounds traumatic.”

  “You could say that.”

  His voice gentled. “Thanks for telling me. Beth, I know what a good girl you were, for your mother’s sake. So you didn’t masturbate. But what about your head? She couldn’t read your mind. I bet all that wild sexuality went right into your imagination.”

  She hid her face in the quilt, bunching the cloth to block his voice. It didn’t work. Fierce and steady, his words penetrated.

  “You like to keep your secrets close. Well, I want them, Beth. I want your secrets. Your secret desires. I want you to know there’s nothing wrong with them. But it’s up to you. I can’t make you give them up.”

  He paused and she relaxed. What he said was true, after all. He couldn’t make her do anything. It was her choice, what she kept to herself and what she shared.

  Then he finished. “But I can’t go back.”

  Chapter Eight

  When Beth was growing up, no one had ever guessed how much she fantasized about Gavin Thomason. Especially her mother, who considered Gavin one step above a caveman. When Beth was fourteen, Judy Vale had caught her staring longingly at Gavin while he helped her into a pair of bowling shoes during his after-school job.

  “Dead end walking,” Judy had said in her most cutting tone. “You know what that means? He looks like he has the world at his feet, but he’ll never leave this town, never do anything with his life besides guzzle beer and lose his teeth at the hockey rink.”

  Her mother had gotten that wrong. Gavin had all his teeth, he rarely drank and he was one of North Pole’s biggest success stories. He’d turned his family business into a powerhouse and stayed loyal to his hometown, which was why Beth had run into him once she’d returned to North Pole to take care of her mother. Her mother had been difficult enough when healthy. Cancer made her even more bitter and impossible.

  Beth had been at the end of her rope when she’d stopped at the Gas ’n’ Go. Her mother’s latest outrageous verbal attack kept running through her mind as she filled up her tank. She lost all track of where she was, so when a strong hand took the pump from her hand, she didn’t object. She blinked at the gas overflowing her tank, then up at the man towering over her.

  Gavin Thomason looked every bit as big and dark and masculine as she remembered, with new lines bracketing his mouth and a scar across his neck.

  “It’s best to keep the gas in the tank,” he said mildly. “Hey, I remember you. Beth Vale, right?”

  He knew her name. She dropped the gas cap in the puddle of gas. Then burst into tears.

  Gavin had taken her to a nearby Terra Bella coffee shop and patiently listened to her sobbing semi-rant about her mother. She’d never complained to anyone about her mother before. There hadn’t been anyone to complain to. And Gavin seemed to know she loved her mother no matter how mean the pain made her.

  She was sure she’d never see him again. Why would he ever want to come near a hysterical basket case like her again? She vowed that if she ever got another chance, she’d be charming and sophisticated and…normal.

  Two days later, he called to check in on her and ask her to dinner.

  Ironically, Gavin had saved her sanity during that time, even though Judy Vale had been appalled by his reappearance in Beth’s life. She’d mellowed once Gavin had proved his usefulness by driving her to the doctor when Beth couldn’t and showing up with forbidden ice cream now and then. But she’d cast a shadow over Beth and Gavin’s entire relationship. They’d planned everything around her, waiting until the fight had left her to share news of their engagement, then another six months after she died to get married.

  Beth could scarcely believe a man like Gavin would want to be with her, but she was so crazy in love with him, she’d do anything to be with him. All she had to do was play a part, as she had her whole life. She’d been her mother’s obedient, respectful child. Then she’d been Gavin Thomason’s perfect, poised wife.

  Except apparently that wasn’t what Gavin wanted.

  The little cabin no longer felt cozy and safe to Beth. It felt like a prison or maybe an interrogation room. Yes, that was it. Beth stared at the ceiling as Gavin snored gently next to her. Why not just hang spotlights on the ceiling, the kind that could shine right into her brain? Why not bring in some detectives?

  Beth Vale Thomason, the evidence proves that you’ve been hiding deviant urges behind that innocent façade. It’s time to come clean. What dirty, shameful thoughts have you been keeping secret? What’s this? A photograph? Explain why you can’t forget this photo. Is it the collar around the woman’s neck? The way her hands are cuffed behind her? The man’s hand on her ass? Or is it the other man, the one watching in the shadows? Watching as she exposes her naked body?

  Then the voice shifted to that of her mother at her most harsh.

  You’re supposed to be such a good girl. What is wrong with you? Is this how I raised you? To be a nasty, dirty girl with no morals? Letting a man treat you like some kind of sex doll?

  Beth decided that accusation deserved an answer. But he’s my husband. We’re two consenting adults.

  You’re nasty.

  Sex isn’t nasty. It’s natural.

  Not that kind of sex. You should be ashamed.

  Beth sat up with a jerk. Maybe Judy Vale hadn’t liked sex. After Beth’s father had left, she’d never dated another man. Never recovered. Maybe she’d hated men. “I’m not like you, Mom,” she whispered. “I can’t be. I don’t want to be.”

  She looked over at her sleeping husband. Gavin looked like a boy who had conked out after a long day of playing—one leg stretched out straight, the other bent at the knee. A wicked scar laced his thigh. It matched the scar on his neck. A car accident after high school had nearly killed him. Surgery had saved his life, but not his slot on a minor league hockey team. Yet he’d never sounded bitter about it.

  “I learned a good lesson. You can make all the plans you want, but you don’t have the final say in what happens. I teach that to my players, and that’s how I live my life too. You gotta roll with the punches.”