Free Freed by Lynetta Halat Page A

your knees wide for me.” I shift them outward. “More.” I bite my lip to contain a groan of need. “Perfect. Finally cross your hands over your heart, making sure to keep your breasts exposed to me.” In order to do this, my back has to be completely straight, so I can see the appeal of the position. I glance down, and with my arms at my side, my breasts are framed and pushed up.
    He rises from his chair to stand over me and runs his hand over my hair. I focus on his sexy feet that rest under the fray of his worn jeans. “You look breathtaking. You’re to hold this position until I come back for you, yes?”
    Until he comes back for me? Where is he going? For how long? I swallow all my questions, placing my trust in him once again. “Yes, John.”
    “Good girl,” he murmurs, bending to place a soft kiss on my forehead.
    Again, my body is at odds with itself. My desire ratchets up to molten, while my nerves throw a cold blanket over me to keep from incinerating. And I wait.
     

 
     
    Chapter Six
    Ransom
    C LICKING THE BATHROOM door behind me quietly, my hands find and grasp the counter, as I close my eyes and recall every fall I’ve ever taken in my bull-riding career. Thinking about the pain and disappointment for a couple of minutes has the desired effects of bringing my raging hard-on under control and keeping me from rushing back into my room to ravage my beautiful, strong girl. I’ve played with a few girls, showing them control and pleasure, but never have I taken it to this level and felt this kind of euphoria. And over something as simple as teaching her the waiting position? Holy shit! What would it be like for us when we took it to the next level and the one after that? I can’t even wrap my brain around how amazing that will be. A jaded little laugh escapes me when I recall my mentor, Lucas, explaining how I would feel when I found my perfect submissive. It’s not that I didn’t believe him, because I had already experienced the thrill of the small things I’d tried, so I understood the potential. I just thought that I would go years and have more experience before finding the one—my little fighter. So perfect.
    Jesus. It was everything I could do not to rush over to her and feel for myself her racing pulse, her hot breaths, her goose-bumped skin … the amount of control we’d both displayed was award-worthy. The only thing that kept me from breaking was knowing how sweet the reward would be in the end. Damn, now I’m getting hard again . OK … back to getting my ass bucked off the beasts.
    After a couple more minutes, I force myself toward Pete’s door to instigate part two of my impromptu little scene, since Denver forced my hand a little. And God was I happy about walking in and seeing that hot little thing sitting on my counter looking at me as if I was her beginning and her end. I’d had a complete shit day, and while there’s nothing anyone could do to make the pain disappear, I knew she could dull my ache.
    I knock quietly at Pete’s door and ask him if he wants to watch some film. My mind wanders to Denver, and if she’s paying attention, I can picture her what-the-fuck face clearly. I barely resist chuckling.
    Pulling his door open, he frowns and runs his hand over his chest. “Dude, I thought you were hanging out with Denver.”
    “Yeah, she’s gonna lie down for a bit. Long day and all,” I hedge.
    “Oh, all right.”
    He grabs us a couple of beers while I cue up our competition reel. I let him do most of the talking for quite a bit since my mind is firmly on my girl. On her knees. Waiting for me. Trusting me. Anticipating me. And here I am. The mirror image of her—only mine is mental supplication. I finish my beer and glance to the clock. Twelve minutes. I need to wrap this up. I finally interject some more enthusiastic comments, knowing that my voice is carrying to Denver and wondering exactly how she feels about me casually sitting here, discussing technique and