She wore only sheer black undergarments, which hid absolutely nothing, and a brazen smile.

  Her heartbeat pounded as perspiration gathered between her breasts, thrust together by the deceptively sturdy lace bra. And Rafe’s expression . . . hot, unblinking, intent. It alone made her melt. What would happen when he actually touched her?

  “And that delectable little bra now . . .” he prompted, motioning with long, dark fingers.

  Kerry’s heart chugged faster as she reached behind her, torn between a new attack of her nerves and sharp arousal. One, two . . . The hooks came undone, the bra fell forward. By some instinct, she caught the cups in her hands, barely covering her breasts.

  Rafe’s chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly. He leaned forward until he came to his knees on the mattress, exposing a lean hip, the top of a muscular thigh. His gaze was now melded onto her. For a moment, Kerry closed her eyes but the stark appreciation in Rafe’s stare burned its way into her brain, scorched a path from her belly to her vagina. He wanted her—no question. In a fierce, reckless way, she wanted him, too, more than she ever would’ve imagined possible, given the circumstances. Arousal thickened inside her, dampening her black panties. Was it having a man of his size and power at her mercy or knowing that she affected him on the most basic level that turned her on?

  “Kerry?” His growl demanded she look at him.

  She opened her eyes, taunted him with a come-hither stare—and dropped the bra.

  Her nipples beaded under his sizzling gaze, now unbearably tight. Power, need, fear all swirled together. They played a dangerous game, and still Kerry wanted it, wanted his touch.

  “Come here.”

  Said the spider to the fly . . .

  Refusing to back down, to be afraid, Kerry put one foot in front of the other, keenly aware of the gentle bobbing of her breasts as she stepped to the edge of the bed.

  “Closer,” he whispered, finger crooked. “Where I can kiss you and touch every inch of your skin.”

  Kerry hesitated, then wondered why. She had the upper hand. The key to the handcuffs lay far across the room, his cell phone tucked away in a closet he couldn’t reach. He did, however, have what she needed to gratify the hot ache bubbling inside her.

  Drawing in a shallow breath, she sat on the edge of the bed, near his knee.

  Rafe wrapped heated fingers around her arm, and her heart went into overdrive. Oh, even that touch felt like heaven. Desire coiled deep in her belly, winding even tighter when he caressed her arm up and down, thumb brushing the side swell of her breast.

  “You’re so soft,” he murmured, moving in.

  Closer he came, closer . . . He leaned toward her, his potent gaze focused on her mouth. She tingled with anticipation as she closed her eyes.

  His skin felt as hot as a furnace as their chests met. His breath fanned across her cheek as he whispered, “I can’t wait to devour you.”

  Kerry didn’t think it possible, but her heart beat even more wildly, the coil in the pit of her belly pulled tighter, the need between her legs ached deeper.

  Then he kissed her. Nothing gentle or tentative. Rafe conquered her mouth, not with force but persuasion. His kiss seduced her until she yearned to open to him and give him everything he wanted. The soft command of his lips over hers, his tongue luring her into the recklessly building fire between them, was too compelling to resist. He cupped her face and groaned, a sound that reverberated all through her body.

  God, she was lost. Was there anything more decadent than having such a man’s single-minded attention, his rampant desire? If there was, she’d never felt it.

  And he had yet to do more than kiss her.

  Breathing hard, Rafe lay his forehead against hers. “Lie down beside me.”

  His request . . . dangerous. No, no, no, her mind chanted. But who wanted to listen to reason at a time like this? The need he roused in her flared pure fire across her skin. No doubt, he could burn her all the way to the core if she wasn’t cautious.

  But damn it, she’d been cautious her whole life. No one had ever incited this hot, wild feeling in her, made her so aware of herself as a woman. No man, especially not puking Richard of prom party fame, had ever made her ache with his very first touch.

  Yes! her body shouted.

  A few shallow breaths later, Kerry succumbed to curiosity and the broiling flame in her belly and lay on her back, staring at him through slumberous, watchful eyes.

  “You want to know what I’m going to do, don’t you?” The small smile on his face teased her with possibilities.

  Her heart pounded out a frantic rhythm. “Yes.”

  His smile widened as he cupped her breast. His fingers warmed the sensitive skin beneath. Kerry caught her breath, then recovered . . . until he flicked a thumb across her distended nipple. Yes, she’d been touched here, touched herself even. But it was nothing like this.

  Kerry gasped as he repeated the process. Her nipples tightened to hard nubs. She felt her breasts swelling, the pleasure spreading. Then he started on the other. She caught her breath.

  “So sensitive. So sexy,” he whispered against her nipple.

  Rafe caught both the nubs between thumbs and fingers and rolled them in his firm grip. His touch was rife with pleasure . . . and a hint of pain. The sting of it ignited her, zinging fire through her belly, straight between her legs. Lord, what else would he do to her?

  As if he could read her thoughts, he reached around him to the bedside table. Puzzled, Kerry watched as he swiped the jelly off the corner of the toast she’d brought earlier. He rubbed it onto her breast, over her nipple. The cool sensation jolted her with a fresh jab of desire. Swallowing, Kerry knew what would come next, knew, and wanted it more than her next breath.

  But no imagining or remembrance prepared her for his hot mouth covering her nipple, tongue swirling, teeth nipping, lips suckling, until Kerry thought she’d come out of her skin with pleasure. She gasped, thrashing on the bed as her arousal climbed to dizzying heights.

  He reached around for another swipe of jelly, applying it to her other breast.

  “Yes!” she shouted at the feel of his mouth on her freshly coated nipple.

  In answer, he merely groaned, sending delicious vibrations through her body. She felt so tightly strung, so in need of release.

  “You want to come?” he murmured into the valley between her breasts, dusting kisses on her abdomen.

  Kerry hesitated, watching him. Did she answer yes, say she wanted to come more than anything? She wanted to, but had no experience with this kind of thing. Would he think her too brazen if she admitted aloud how much she wanted an orgasm?

  “Don’t be afraid to say what you want,” he whispered, as if he understood her hesitation. Then he laved her nipple with his tongue. “Tell me everything you want. I want to give it to you.”

  As his voice dropped to a wicked rasp, the fire in her belly raged hotter at his words. His teeth gently teased her nipple, his palm skimming the surface of her belly and hip. Pleasure burst and spread until she could hardly breathe.

  “Yes,” she admitted raggedly as he sucked her nipple into his mouth again. “But . . . but I—oh, that feels good . . .”

  He chuckled. “You were saying?”

  “I thought . . .” Kerry tried to gather her thoughts in the face of such enormous pleasure. “I should be auditioning for you, not the other way around.”

  Lifting his head for a moment, Rafe smiled with both mirth and warmth. “You are.”

  “What?” she breathed.

  His smile turned downright sinful. “I want to know that you can come for me. Readily and loudly. Half my pleasure is in feeling yours.”

  Before Kerry could reply, Rafe lowered his head again, and the delicious rasp of his tongue over the sensitive curve of her breast coiled the desire inside her even tighter.

  “Shouldn’t I be—Lord, I can’t think when . . . when you do that,” she stammered.

  “So don’t think.”

  Fighting the mounting confusion and desire, Kerry thrashed her head from side to side. “I should be arousing you.”

  “Oh, you are. I can’t wait to hear you scream.” Rafe kissed a path up to her neck, nibbling until he sent shivers down her spine. “Grab the headboard.”

  Kerry surrendered, a thousand erotic images swirling in her head. Before she could question his demand, he yanked on the ties of her little panties and tossed the black wisp of fabric to the ground. She was still gasping as he took another dollop of jam from the toast. Their eyes met, the jolt shaking her all the way to the soles of her feet.

  With a very naughty grin, Rafe eased to the end of the bed, nudged her thighs apart with his shoulders, and dabbed the cool jam directly on her clitoris. Would he really . . . ?

  “Wait, Rafe—Ohmigod!”

  The sensation of his hot mouth around the sensitive button, tongue toying with it, then delving inside her . . . words couldn’t describe. Kerry’s brain shut down entirely. Sensation flooded in a hot, wet rush. The swelling, the moisture gathering, his talented mouth everywhere.

  He eased his finger inside her, filling her with wicked delight. Seconds later, he found a sensitive spot and rubbed without pause or mercy. Tingles soon became an aching pressure, a need for more. He dragged his tongue through her wet slit in a slow, mind-blowing stroke. She cried out, arched off the bed. A storm swirled behind her navel, at the base of her spine, gathering strength as it converged everywhere he touched her. Her every muscle tensed. She forgot to breathe and held on to the iron swirls of the headboard like a life preserver in a raging sea.

  “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Swollen breasts, flushed skin.” He breathed against her slick folds, adding fuel to the fire. “So responsive.”

  He turned his attention back to her clitoris, dragging his tongue over the hard button with enough leisurely pressure that Kerry thought she’d rocket off the bed and into space any second.

  “Rafe!” she panted.

  “Come for me—now.” With another swipe of his tongue, Rafe’s finger found the needy spot deep inside her, applied the perfect pressure that had her gasping.

  The storm clouds within Kerry clashed, creating one explosion that crested to unbelievable heights. The warm, liquid honey of satisfaction rolled through her limbs even as her back arched off the bed. Pleasure rocked her, vibrating through her body seemingly without end. She screamed. And still Rafe didn’t stop, probing and tasting her as the sensations raged endlessly.

  As the contractions finally subsided, Kerry lay on the bed, slick with sweat, breathing heavily. Rafe eased away, moving to her left. She was too tired to even open her eyes, much less move, but she could die a happy woman after this. Certainly nothing could be better.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  “Yeah, wow,” he whispered in her ear, lips pressed softly to the sensitive spot below her ear. “You’re so intriguing, I’m almost sorry for this.”

  “For what?” she asked, words slurred.

  Then she felt the clamp of fabric tether her wrists together, then another tug jerking her arms up.

  Alarm raced down her spine, shattering her rosy, lazy glow.

  “What the—” Kerry craned her head back to see her wrists tied to the wrought-iron headboard in some complicated knot—all secured with his discarded necktie. “Rafe, what are you doing?”

  He waved at her with his unrestrained hand. “Did I forget to mention that I was a Boy Scout, and a left-handed one at that?”

  Kerry might look like innocence and spun sugar, but inside she was a firecracker waiting to explode. Damn, she ignited him more than his last three girlfriends put together. Rafe took a deep breath to right his pulse, then another. A quick glance down confirmed his cock at full staff . . . and now that he’d used this bargain to trick her, he figured his chances of getting inside Kerry were nil. His father was more likely to give up booze.

  Besides, his mission had been securing the handcuff key and freedom, not getting a good lay. Unfortunately for him, the head to the south disagreed violently.

  “This is so not according to plan. This can’t—” She grunted and tugged at her bonds. “I can’t . . .” The knot didn’t give. “No! Untie me, you son of a bitch!”

  Normally, Rafe would say he deserved that, but once Kerry had abducted him, all bets were off. Sure, she thought she had justifications, but he had work to accomplish in order to meet his five-million-dollar goal and prove to Benton Dawson III that he was a success. He didn’t like being duped. It pissed him off to admit that his own libido—and his weakness for blondes with dimples—had gotten him into this mess. Worse yet, that same irresponsible libido was shouting that he wasn’t done with Kerry.

  His libido wasn’t going to get its way.

  “Not gonna happen. I think it’s your turn to lie here, helpless and bound, for a while.”

  Apprehension slid across her rosy face. “I know you’re angry with me. You have every right to be mad but . . . don’t you dare hurt me!”

  Her bravado in the face of her bound vulnerability intrigued him nearly as much as her beautiful breasts. Still, the thought she believed he would hurt her disturbed him.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not a bully and I don’t get off on a woman’s pain.”

  “You can’t go anywhere!”

  “Watch me.”

  Rafe frowned as he crossed the room and stretched to retrieve the handcuff key he’d seen her set there earlier. No matter how he tugged and pulled, he was two inches too short to reach that damned windowsill.

  “I put the key there because you can’t get to it,” Kerry pointed out, a hint of smugness in her voice.

  Nope, he wasn’t giving up. There had to be some way . . . any way.

  By sitting on his ass and reaching with his toes, he came closer, but still no cigar. Behind him, he heard Kerry sigh in relief. Damn her!

  Gaze circling the room, Rafe looked for a hanger, a pen. Something long and sturdy would do the trick. He saw nothing to fit that description except his dick, still standing straight and tall and looking for action. Too bad it didn’t qualify.

  Finally, he resorted to faint hope and the skills he’d picked up playing high school baseball. Grabbing one of his shoes from the floor, Rafe took aim at the necklace and tossed it. One of his black Italian wingtips made a loud whack as it hit the window. It thudded down on the hardwood floor.

  Rafe smiled. The key fell that final two inches closer. He reached until he grasped it in his palm.

  Kerry gasped. “Ohmigod . . . No! You’re leaving, aren’t you? You can’t leave!”

  Quickly, Rafe unlatched Kerry’s necklace, setting the chain aside, then made quick work of his remaining shackle. It gave way with the sound of a metal crunch. He let it retract all the way back to the bed’s special compartments and smiled.

  “Sure I can. Are my clothes in the closet?”

  “Someone will come looking for me.”

  “Good, then I won’t have to worry about you getting free after I’m gone.”

  “What about our bargain?” she demanded. “Forty-eight hours and all that?”

  Rafe shrugged. He hadn’t really meant that. He would have promised her a round-trip ticket to Fiji if he’d thought that would have lured her close enough to beat her at her own bondage game. Despite the fact his scheme had enabled him to touch Kerry—something he’d damn near been dying to do—bartering his services for sex hadn’t been his plan. But Kerry’s voice induced him to look at her.

  Big mistake. She was amazing naked and bound. Soft, slender neck, round breasts that fit his palms so perfectly, hard berry nipples. He held in a groan, but even as he did, her body drew his eyes down over her gently rounded abdomen, the flare of a woman’s hips, to the downy pale thatch that protected the slick confection of her core.

  “Please,” she called. “You have every right to be mad at me. I should not have kidnapped you—”

  “That’s right,” he growled. “I told you to leave me alone over the phone for a reason.”

  “But I need your help. No one will listen to me. Not the police, not Mark’s boss. I tried to hire a detective, but I couldn’t afford one on a waitress’s pay. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t just stand around while my brother went to prison.”

  Her voice trembled. Rafe jerked his gaze back to her face. She didn’t cry. But the resolution hardening her face, shining from her mossy green eyes, shocked him. Even naked and at a virtual stranger’s mercy, Kerry didn’t think of herself. She didn’t think anything of her pride. Instead, her every thought was for the brother she loved. Kerry had risked her future, her safety, even wagered her body to help Mark.

  Again, the depth of her caring and loyalty stunned him. He’d never known anyone that steadfast. Certainly, he’d always known if his father had to choose between booze and paying attention to his only son . . . well, Dad’s hangover would attest to his choice. Either Kerry was very selfless or very stupid. Rafe wanted to be angry with her for her scheme. He wanted to want revenge. But he didn’t. The amazingly loyal, sexy woman, even if she had her ditzy moments, really intrigued him on a level he couldn’t remember experiencing before.

  “I’ll give you forty-eight hours, anything you want.” Kerry looked him straight in the eyes. She swallowed, but in no other way did she betray any nervousness. “Just don’t leave yet. Hear me out.”

  Rafe sucked in a sharp breath as he hardened yet more. So fucking tempting, the idea of taking complete control of her body here, in the bed built by someone with a wide dominant streak . . . but he had a job to do. Standard National expected him for a preliminary meeting.

  He shook his head, dropping his gaze from her pleading stare, and retrieved her clothes from the floor.

  Without waiting for her reaction, he turned toward the closet to set her clothes out of reach and find his own. But her desperation filled the air, and guilt prickled down his spine. Guilt, of all things! Damn it, he didn’t owe Kerry a thing. He’d given her thousands of dollars’ worth of his critical time, as well as a hearty orgasm. Why should he feel anything but sure that his time to exit had come?