Free Hot Buttered Rum: Standalone Romance (Silk Stocking Inn Book 4) by Anna Hart Page B

right alone on the boat?”
    Turner squinted into the dim light of the room and glanced at the window. “It’s just a mild rain. He’s in his cage inside the galley. He’s fine. But thank you for thinking about him.” Now completely awake, Turner’s dark blue gaze fell on my naked breasts. “Damn, I just realized I’m completely and utterly in debt to you. How the hell should I repay you?”
    I rested back against the plush pillows with a lazy yawn. “Not sure. I’ll let you decide, but I must warn you the interest on the debt is accumulating with each passing minute.”
    “Can’t have that.” He sat up and looked around the room. His eyes landed on the silk scarf draped across the dresser. “Yep, that works,” he said to himself and climbed out of bed.
    I pushed up to my elbow to watch him walk across the floor. Before we climbed under the covers, he’d stripped naked. The warm glow in the room illuminated his incredible physique from his broad shoulders down to his tight ass. My entire body warmed with a blush just looking at him.
    He picked up the scarf. As he turned, his long, hard cock pointed toward me like the arrow on a compass. I sucked in a quiet breath, still shocked by the size of him and completely thrilled that at least for this long rainy night he was mine. Or was I his, I thought wryly as he stomped toward me with a look of determination and a silken scarf dangling from his long fingers.
    He knelt on the bed. “Hands up, wench,” he said with a pirate-like snarl.
    I giggled and tried to look frightened as I lifted my hands. “Oh, you terrible rogue, what do you have in mind?” I asked shyly.
    “I might owe you, but—” He leaned forward and whispered against my ear, “you are mine, wholly and completely mine.” I had to remind myself we were role playing and not to take his words to heart. Even so, it was hard to tamp down the emotional response I had to his words. How badly I wanted them to be true. It was going to take a long weekend away just to help me recover from this weekend away.
    Turner took hold of my hands and pushed them together. Then with a slightly wicked grin, he began tying them with the scarf. My common sense nudged me, reminding me that I should be slightly scared about the prospect of having my hands tied, but I just wasn’t in any kind of physical state to pay attention to my common sense. In truth, every inch of me was alive. I wanted nothing more than to have him take full control of me.
    I knelt obediently in front of him, marveling at how easily I’d allowed him to take charge. In the real world, the world outside the fantastical Silk Stocking Inn, I never allowed men to control me. I insisted on being on equal ground with the male engineers on my team. But in the bedroom, with Turner, I wanted to be his plaything.
    And it seemed he had the same idea. Satisfied that my hands were secured, Turner stood up off the bed and gave me a little tug to follow. He held the free end of the scarf as I made my ungainly exit from the bed without the use of my hands.
    He eyed me from beneath a dark curtain of lashes as he led me to the foot of the bed. Then with a slight tug, he lifted my tied hands above my head. His hot naked body leaned against mine, and the slick, fleshy tip of his erection rubbed my belly as he reached over my head and tied the scarf to the bedpost.
    He stepped back to take a long, hungry survey of me, with my hands tied above my head and my naked body leaned against the post. My nipples hardened from the way his appreciative gaze raked over me.
    Turner returned to the dresser and picked up the can of whipped cream. “I’m hungry for some dessert.” He shook the can and tossed away the cap.
    I pulled at my silky bindings. They were secure. My fingers tingled but not nearly as much as my pussy, as it waited anxiously to see where this was leading.
    With the rain swirling around the inn, the air inside the room was cool. But the heat rolling off