Free Pinups and Possibilities by Melinda Di Lorenzo Page B

if it didn’t make him happy. “Good.”
    He popped open the glovebox and yanked out a set of handcuffs. He held them up and dangled them in front of me.
    “Let’s call this insurance,” he said.
    “You’re going to handcuff me to…what? The steering wheel?”
    “No.”
    “Thank God, because—”
    He cut me off. “I’m going to handcuff you to the toilet.”
    “You can’t be serious.”
    “You told me yourself you’re a runner.”
    I didn’t deny it, but I didn’t offer him my wrist, either. After a second he sighed.
    “I thought you might like to use a real toilet. Since you wasted your last pee break on a phone call.”
    I reigned in an urge to stick my tongue out him.
    Somehow, I thought. This can work to my advantage.
    I smiled sweetly. “Yes, please. I’d love to use a real toilet.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Do I need to give you a list of rules along with the standard consequences for breaking them?”
    “I think I can manage.”
    Painter grabbed my purse from the backseat and tossed the cuffs into it. Then he let himself out, and came around to open my door.
    “Such a gentleman,” I muttered.
    He grinned. “From what I hear…ladies prefer a bad boy. So keep this in mind. I don’t like to hurt people, but I will, if I’m pushed to. Don’t risk anyone else’s safety by pulling something stupid, okay?”
    “Do I seem stupid to you?”
    “No. You seem a little too damned smart, actually.”
    This time, I did stick my tongue out. “Can I take my purse so I can fix my make-up?”
    “As long as you’re not planning on whacking me in the head with it.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”
    He pulled me out by the hand and didn’t let go as we walked toward the service station store.
    We stopped right outside the doors and Painter bent his head down to my neck. When he spoke, his warm breath made a trail of goose bumps rise up on my skin.
    “I promise you, this isn’t going to be one of those movie-escape scenes where I leave you alone in the washroom long enough for you to climb out a window.”
    “Fine.” I hoped he took my gritted teeth as an expression of irritation and not what it really signified—a maddening urge to turn my mouth toward his.
    Painter plastered a cheeky grin on his face as he yanked me close and opened the door. He winked at the attendant before slapping a hundred-dollar bill onto the counter.
    “Key to the men’s room, please?”
    “Not the ladies?” The shaggy-haired cashier tugged on his eyebrow ring and gave us a puzzled look.
    “My lady friend has a peculiar fetish,” Painter announced, and my face went hot.
    The attendant nodded and tossed the key to us.
    “What is wrong with you?” I hissed.
    “Let’s call that payback for the phone thing,” he replied as he shoved me through the store and into the restroom.
    “Isn’t chaining me here punishment enough?”
    “You’d think so, but no.”
    He fished the handcuffs from my purse and shot a meaningful look toward the tiny window above the toilet.
    “As if my ass would fit through that,” I said.
    “I know exactly what size your ass is,” he replied. “And there’s no doubt in my mind you’d squeeze it through there.”
    I fought off another blush. “Whatever.”
    He smiled and fastened my wrist to the metal pipes behind the toilet. Then he closed the door. I was able to reach the lock and to secure it, but I could still hear him shuffling around outside.
    “I’m supposed to go while you’re out there?”
    “Yes.”
    I sighed, then realized I was still gripping my purse in my free hand. I stared down at it, feeling a bubble of hope build in my chest.
    A bobby pin . I had to have one.
    I rattled the handcuffs to cover the sound of me tossing things from my bag to the floor. Painter’s laugh carried through the door.
    “You can’t shake your way out of those,” he called. “They’re police issue.”
    “Police issue?” I managed to reply. “Seems kinda classy for a seedy guy like