Handcuffed in Housewares: Tulle and Tulips, Book 3 (3 page)

“You need someone with a smaller company. Good, but start-up.” Burton sprang to mind. He’d said he was the head contractor. If that was true, it was possible he had played a part in how Hearth and Home had been put together. He may or may not have an eye for the kind of detail Jace was asking for, but he would have been in charge of the building, paint and wallpaper. “I might have an option for you. Let me do some checking.”

Certain he was Google-able, Leigh opened a new browser and got to work searching for whatever information she could find on Burton Anderson.

Chapter Three

Monday mornings had a reputation for sucking. Mondays in May seemed to be forming a pattern. At least for Burton.

A year ago, on a May Monday, his marriage of six years ended.

A week ago, on a May Monday, he’d woken handcuffed to a commode at work.

Now, on a May Monday, he was scrambling to buy supplies for a job because one of his subcontractors had failed to show up or verify the supply order. He might have escaped detection on the security cameras at Hearth and Home, but he couldn’t shake the idea that last week’s debacle was going to come back to bite him. Nothing was going to jeopardize his company again.

“Excuse me,” he called to one of the store employees who stepped into the aisle.

“Yes, sir.” The elderly gentleman smiled as he walked toward Burton. “Can I help you?”

“I need three more rolls of two-inch, reinforced, braided vinyl tubing.” He pointed to his cart that already held everything they had. “I’m hoping you have some in the back or at another local store.”

“Sure.” The man, Jack according to his nametag, smiled. “Let me check the computer.”

Burton followed him through a few aisles to the computer. A woman walking with another woman and a man captured his attention and flashed him back a week to Leigh. It was the bun that caught his attention. It was the woman’s flushed cheeks he remembered. Her bun, that he wanted to pull her hair free from, and the sultry way her voice caressed each word. Those were the things he remembered.

His body remembered her too. His temperature shot up. Heat tingled along his wrists where she’d touched him. The bruises were almost gone, but he still felt her skin against his. Hers was a touch he’d dreamt about and woken up missing for days.

“We have what you need in stock, but it’s split between two of our other stores.”

Burton nodded at Jack. “It’ll have to do.” Even if it meant he was going to spend the next hour driving around to get it all he would have what he needed. “Can you have them pull it to the front for me?”

“Your name?”

“I know BDSM isn’t new, but can you believe we’re doing this?” A woman’s question from the next aisle distracted Burton.

Jack too. The old man angled his head and listened to see what they’d hear.

“It’s a first for me, and I’ve been at this for a long while.” Another woman said with a chuckle.

“I’ve tied women up,” a man put in, “but never in public.”

“What is it about sex in public that excites people?”

The last question stopped Burton’s heart for a beat. His head snapped up. Sultry. Caressing. Sensible. He’d only ever heard one woman speak like that.

Leigh.

“You didn’t ask your naked man that?”

Her what? She’d told people about him? Shit. He was going to be ruined.

“No.” Leigh answered with a huffing laugh. “But if he ever returns my call I will ask him for you, Tabatha.”

She’d called?

“Wait.” The first woman who’d spoken jumped on the thought that popped into his head. “What do you mean ‘if he calls you back’? You didn’t tell us he gave you his number.”

“He didn’t. I Googled him.”

“Why would you Google him?”

Jack returned to work, asking Burton for his name and phone number. He didn’t seem to be as interested in the conversation anymore. At least not as interested as Burton.

“Misty,” the man slipped in. “Leave her alone.”

“I will not.” Misty laughed. “Maybe he could give us some pointers.”

“OMG!” Tabatha, if he was keeping the voices straight, clapped her hands together. “You want to be the one to handcuff him next time. Or do you want him to cuff you instead?”

“You should only have to go to the customer service counter at the other stores,” Jack said. “If you need anything else, let us know.”

“Thank you.” What Burton really needed was to hear Leigh’s answer. Why had she looked him up? Why call him? Why hadn’t he gotten the message?

“Ladies,” the man injected again. He sounded calm and dominant. “Are we here to buy rope suitable for bondage games or are we here to pick on Leigh?”

“Can’t we do both?” Tabatha asked.

Burton’s admiration for the other man skyrocketed. If he could get three women who sounded like they were pretty good friends to agree to a four-way, and if he could control them, he deserved whatever they would do with him. And these women sounded like they were willing to do quite a bit.

Leigh was the shocking addition, though. She’d seemed so prim when they met. Damn if the contradictory information didn’t have him trying harder to visualize her with her hair down. Figuratively and literally.

When the image came into his head it was of her kneeling over a man while he ate out one of the other women and the third one caressed the softness of Leigh’s neck. Most men might find the idea sexy. It just pissed him off because if Leigh was going to let loose with anyone he wanted it to be him.

“He’s a contractor,” Leigh said softly. “I might have a job for him.”

“We plan weddings. Odd as they may be at times,” Misty said. “People don’t come to us for contractors.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean my clients never ask about other aspects of house planning. I’m there to guide them through setting up their home.”

If she’d called him for a job, he didn’t see a better time than now to return the call. Burton pushed the cart down the aisle and around the end. The woman he’d spotted earlier with the bun—Leigh—faced away from him. Each woman dressed with a completely different style. One in a short skirt and stilettos that made her almost as tall as the man with them and the other in a glittery top and jeans with bling on the ass pockets. None of them seemed like they would have much in common. That didn’t seem to stop them as they debated ropes and dished about the naked man Leigh had uncuffed.

The man said little. He seemed more content to stand back and watch the women. Not that he seemed overly interested in any of them other than the one in the short skirt.

Burton’s gaze was drawn to Leigh. She wasn’t as overt with her sexuality. In fact, the fat-legged slacks and sensible suit vest she wore were intended to hide her figure. It only succeeded in highlighting her narrow waist and making him wonder what other wonders she hid.

Even the swell of her ass was a treat for his eyes.

He moved closer, less than two feet away. He took in the three people with Leigh—the man with a hook instead of a hand and the two women who were stunning in their own ways. His eyes returned quickly to Leigh, though. To the satin smooth skin of her neck, the narrow dip of her waist and then the swell of her hips. Her slacks, like the skirt she’d worn last week, were fitted to showcase her curves.

She was a tempting mystery he wanted to solve.

“This one is soft.” Misty, the one with the short skirt, ran a length of rope between her fingers. “I could easily bend it in and around the flowers.”

“Soft is fine, but you want strength too.”

Tabatha nodded at what the man said as she took the rope from Misty. She smiled mischievously at Burton as she pulled on each end of the rope to test the strength. “This one is good. Soft. Sturdy. Not too easy to slip out of, but it won’t hurt either.”

Burton smiled back. She was trying to shock him. Willing to play her game, he stepped forward, reached around Leigh and picked up a roll of rope. “Try this one. It will give you softness, strength and a little stretchiness.”

Tabatha oohed. “A man who knows his ropes.”

Burton shrugged. “I got an Eagle in the Boy Scouts.”

“So you know how to tie all those fancy knots?”

“Yes.” He smiled for Tabatha, but his gaze remained on Leigh, who hadn’t moved since he spoke. “Of course, it all depends on what you’re doing with the rope.”

Testing Leigh, curious to see if she would turn to face him, he brushed against her as he moved back. Sparks shot along his arm where his bicep brushed hers. She flinched the tiniest of flinches. If he hadn’t been touching her in that instant he might have missed it, but she reacted.

“Is this what you would choose if you were tying someone up?”

“I guess that would depend on why I was tying them up.” He nodded to the other man, who held himself like he’d had some military training. “For instance, if I were tying up an enemy I wouldn’t want any give and I wouldn’t give a damn if the rope hurt them or not.”

The other man grinned.

“Now, if I were binding a woman…” He hesitated a moment, looked at Leigh to see if she would look at him. She sent him a sideways glance and her cheeks flushed the same sweet pink as when she’d handed him the robe. “I wouldn’t want her to be hurt, so I would choose the softest cotton fiber rope.”

Leigh turned to more fully face him. Her friends faded into the shadows of his periphery when he looked at her directly. Tabatha said something, but he didn’t notice anything other than Leigh’s green gaze locked with his.

“You said you called?”

“What?”

“A few minutes ago you said I hadn’t returned your calls.”

“Oh. My. God.” Misty gasped.

“You’re the naked man?” Tabatha asked.

He heard them, but could only care about how Leigh reacted. She had talked about him, but until he knew what she had said, and to who, he couldn’t determine how damaging it would be to his business.

Her stare was just as distracting as before, almost hypnotizing, but at least his brain seemed to be working better. “Did you need me, Leigh?”

“Yes.” She blinked. Her cheeks twitched as if she wished she’d answered differently. “Though now isn’t the time to discuss it.”

As calm and seemingly unaffected as she’d been when he was nude, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “Let’s set a more convenient time.”

He kept staring at her. She could try to keep things business. He wasn’t against business, but the woman had seen him naked. The rules were blown away before they’d gotten started.

“This evening. Five o’clock. Strike Often.”

“I have plans with friends.”

“Bring them. We’ll get two lanes instead of one.” He didn’t have to ask if it was her kind of place or not. He knew it wasn’t, but he wanted to see her out of her element. “After, you and I will talk.”

Chapter Four

Burton got to Strike Often fifteen minutes early to get on the list for a lane. The place could get crowded even on a Monday. He walked in to find that there would be no waiting, though. Leigh and her friends were already there. The man from the hardware store had already secured a lane and was trying to convince Misty that putting on shoes hundreds of other feet had worn was half the fun.

Leigh stood by the rack of balls with her lips pursed in a sideways crush. She’d changed from the slacks she’d worn earlier to a pair of jeans. The denim fit snugly, and like the ones she had on in the hardware store they highlighted her curves to perfection. Her long-sleeved T-shirt, with little rhinestones circling in an intricate design he couldn’t make out, hugged her torso and stretched over her jeans. A clunky belt accentuated her narrow waist. Her dark hair was in its normal bun, and, oddly, the look worked as well with jeans as it did with business attire.

She wasn’t a petite woman. She probably watched every calorie to keep from gaining weight, but he liked that she hadn’t won the battle. He loved a woman with curves. He especially loved that Leigh didn’t try to shroud her form in baggy clothes.

Burton rolled his bag to her. “Too many balls to choose from?”

She turned to him, her cheeks flaring red. Either she was easily embarrassed or that had sounded as bad to her as it had him. The woman seemed to have that effect on him.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“First BDSM shopping trip. First bowling outing. Today is a day of firsts for you.”

“So it seems.” She nodded toward the bowling bag at his feet. “You, however, seem to travel with your own gear.”

He shrugged. “I grew up in an odd house. We didn’t have a lot of money, but my parents made sure we had a family night at least once a week. When we were old enough, we joined a family bowling league.”

“I can relate to the lack of money.”

“Your parents weren’t as involved?”

“My parents died when I was little. I grew up in foster care.”

“Well, tonight I’m going to give you a crash course in a great pastime you seem to have missed out on.” Choosing a ball, he handed it to her. “How’s this feel? Too heavy?”

She took the ball and held it for a minute, lifting and lowering her hand a little. “No. It’s fine.”