Free At the Cowboy's Mercy by Emma Jay Page B

morphine, it was almost like it was too late, like he was having to play catch-up and just never could get ahead of the pain. It was too hard."
    He wanted to say more, wanted to tell her he might have made it easier for her by being there. Instead, he hooked his hand over her shoulder and drew her against him. She was tense for a moment, then relaxed against him, her hand curling on his chest. He felt the shudder of a sob, then another, and another. As he held her against him on the cooling hood of the truck, he wondered who had been there for her as she watched her father die, as she put him in the ground.
    ***
    He drove back downhill before it got full dark, and his headlights caught a group of does in the field on the other side of the fence from the road. He braked and the deer and humans stared at each other for awhile before another sound spooked the animals and sent them bolting into the trees.
    They drove back in silence. When they entered the house, they were greeted by a questioning meow. He thought Kennedy would stop and play with the kittens, or insist on feeding the mama a can of food. Instead, she linked her fingers with his and led him to the bedroom, astonishingly without running into any walls in the dark. He was the one to find the free-standing light beside the bed. He released her hand to turn it on. When the low-watt bulb sent out a weak circle of light, she was facing him, her eyes a little swollen. But she edged toward the bed, lifting her shirt over her head.
    "Kennedy."
    "I want you to make love to me. Right now. I want to feel you with me."
    He wanted it too, and hell, he couldn't resist her, even when she didn't offer an invitation like that. He moved forward and curved his hands around her waist, denying himself what he really wanted, finding her skin so soft. Her hair tumbled down her back and the ends brushed the backs of his hands. Who knew that could be so sexy? She angled her head to look up at him, inviting his kiss. He lowered his mouth until only his breath was between them.  
    "I want to do something."
    "I hope you want to do lots of things."
    "I want to tie you to the bed."
    She jerked her head back, just a bit, her mouth forming an "o." But her eyes darkened with something like excitement. At least, he hoped it was.  
    "All of me?"
    "Just your hands to the headboard."
    "With," she swallowed. "With what? A rope?"
    "I have an old t-shirt. It won't chafe."
    "Do you--like that? Bondage?"
    "Tying your hands to the bed isn't bondage. It's just--"
    "Hot."
    He nodded, hoping she understood, hoping she'd go along. He could picture here there, stretched out for him, naked, willing, while he drove her wild. She nodded, just once then turned toward the bed so he couldn't see her face.
    ***
    What had she just agreed to? Kennedy's pulse throbbed in every part of her body as she lay on the bed. She remembered the first night, when he'd held her hands above her head as he'd fucked her, and it had made her a little crazy. Tying her meant he'd have both hands free. What would he do to her?
    Her gaze followed him as he opened his duffel and drew out a ratty old shirt, then ripped it down the middle. She swallowed hard when he knelt on the bed.  
    "What if I don't like it?" she asked, shifting on the bed so her arms weren't so far away from the bedstead.
    He paused from looping the fabric through the iron headboard. "Then say the word and I'll cut you free." He reached into his pocket for his knife, showed it to her, and placed it on the floor by the bed before taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb over her palm. "But I'm going to do my best to make sure you like it."
    Gently he wrapped the fabric about one wrist, then another, not unlike hogtying, she thought a little wildly. Then he levered himself over her, his body shielding but not touching hers, and kissed her softly. Not being able to touch him was odd--and strangely exciting. Her nipples tightened further, almost to the point of pain, as