Hidden Heart (Windy City #1) by Measha Stone

Author:Measha Stone [Stone, Measha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00N88TZU2
Publisher: Orzel Publishing
Published: 2014-09-25T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

The Punishment

Royce’s eyes fluttered open from the sunlight streaking across his face. Realizing it was Saturday, and he didn’t have to go into the office, he grabbed the pillow beside him and covered his face. Then he reached a hand out beside him and cool sheets greeted him. He tossed the pillow aside and sat up.

No Jessica. The clock told him it was only seven in the morning. Maybe she was an early riser, he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

He knew there was more to her past than a few bad love affairs. She’d been hurt somewhere deep within her that had caused her to guard herself in such a way. He’d taken a risk pushing her about her career, and she hadn’t disappointed him. Perhaps the residual feelings from sex had loosened her tongue. He decided to try again for more information right after her next orgasm…right after breakfast.

His attraction to her had less to do with her appearance than her personality. She gave him the vibe of loyalty and honesty. She told little lies to hide her emotions from him and anyone else taking the time to peek in, true. But in her core, she was an honest person. The way she spoke of the people in the case she was working on told him she concerned herself with the welfare of others.

He’d worried about pushing her too hard with the clothespins. Her eagerness and willingness was as much of a turn on as her beautiful breasts. The pins he’d chose for their play gave the lightest pinch, though he wondered if she would have been open to taking the harder ones. She’d taken him by surprise with her boldness with the condom. The thought of it woke his dick up.

He jumped out of bed to find her.

She sat in the living room, fully clothed, fondling the riding crop.

He paused in the doorway to drink her in. Her braid fell down her back, and she wore the same clothes as the night before. He made a note to himself to ask her to bring a bag next time, or he would shop for her. Once he got her out of her clothes, he’d check her sizes.

Holding the crop in her hands, she balanced the rod on her palms as if to check its weight. She brought the flapper to her nose and sniffed the leather. He watched her run it over her jaw and imagined him performing the same act while he held the crop.

She stood from the couch and put her foot on the coffee table, lightly tapping her jean clad thigh with the flogger.

“Good morning.” He stepped into the living room, stopping her experiment before he sprung through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. His presence startled her, and she bumbled with the crop before dropping it back onto the coffee table.

“Hi.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets. A rose blush settled on her cheeks.

“I worried you ran away again.

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