Free Twisted Up by Lissa Matthews

purse. He took her other bags up the stairs and set them both against the wall near the side of the bed she slept on. After a trip into the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth, he crawled into the bed and gathered her in his arms again.
    His eyes were already closing when she sighed and nuzzled her face against his chest before rolling over to face away from him. He smiled and eased himself close until he was spooned against her, an exhausted and sated sleep soon taking him.

Chapter Five
    Ella rolled over and spied the rather large cup of coffee. As she looked at it from her position on the bed and then inched up closer on her belly, she realized it wasn’t a cup at all, but a soup bowl with a handle. She wondered for a moment if it would be considered Texas size?
    “What a sweet, wonderful man,” she intoned aloud to the empty room.
    Sitting up, she propped a pillow against the solid wood headboard and reached for the coffee. From her current angle, the bowl wasn’t much smaller than the tray it sat on. There were two shot glasses of creamer and a spoon as well. She couldn’t have been more touched, and sudden emotion clogged her throat and made her chest ache.
    She blinked her eyes rapidly, swearing she had something in them before actually picking up the cup and one of the shot glasses. Emptying one, she swirled the cream through the coffee and tasted, screwing up her face at the still too-strong flavor and emptied the second shot glass of cream.
    Yes, a giant cup required four full ounces of cream instead of just two. She took a sip and let the caffeine do its magic on her tired and not-quite-awake system. She became more aware of things quickly though, the silence in the house being the biggest thing. Where was he?
    There was no sound coming from downstairs. It didn’t surprise her that nothing had awoken her, being as tired and worn out as she was from the trip, the sex and the orgasms.
    However, the silence was beginning to make her nervous. She didn’t know why exactly. She was used to being alone and it had never bothered her before, but for some reason, maybe because she was in a house that wasn’t her own, she didn’t have that same peace that solitude usually brought in its wake.
    She slid her leg over to the side of the bed he’d slept on and it was cold as ice. He must have been up for a few hours and, looking around, she didn’t see a clock anywhere, but she did see her purse sitting in a ladder-back chair in the corner. Her suitcase sat against the loft railing. She’d bet her laptop bag was somewhere around too, and if she looked on the floor beside the bed… Yep, her bunny slippers sat there, waiting for her feet to slide right on in.
    That thing was back in her eyes again, making her blink rapidly to get it out.
    She lay in his bed, drinking the coffee he’d made for her, feeling the aches in her body and the light ache in her neck where he’d held her down. It felt like a bruise and she’d be curious to see if there was one, but she doubted it. He didn’t squeeze hard enough, but the slight tenderness when she touched where his thumb had been… She smiled.
    God, she loved the way he pinned her down, held her. It was a possession of her.
    They’d toyed with some light control play over the months. He’d tied her up, but so loosely she could get out with little more than a twist of her wrist. He’d spanked her a bit, enough for it to sting, not enough for it to mark. But the kiss before she’d left the room the last time to head home had been tender and rough by turns, possessive and freeing too. He’d pushed her up against the hotel room door and gripped her throat in his hand, pressing his body so hard into her that it had lifted her up on her toes.
    She’d felt his hold on her all the way home that day and every day since. She had no idea what she was doing here with him now, what pipedream she might be living or buying into. Sure, they’d gotten along well and they had a sexual