Free Carrot and Coriander by Ashe Barker Page B

it, but because she was worried about scaring him off. What if he felt she was crowding him, expecting…things. Expecting too much. A relationship, maybe. What if it was all just fun to him, and she was trying to make more of it. She needed to get a grip.
    Rachel was still full of good intentions as she opened her back door. Those intentions were scattered to the four winds as she was grabbed from behind, whirled around, kissed soundly, and lifted onto the solid pine kitchen table.
    She opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on, or maybe just to say hello, but he was faster. A hand over her mouth silenced her, and she found herself gazing into deep blue, sensual eyes, inches from her own.
    “Don’t speak. Please. I don’t want to gag you—can’t kiss you if I do. And I so love kissing you, Rachel. But please, no talking. No questions. Just let me do what I want. Nod if you agree. Please.”
    Rachel stared at him then slowly nodded. He slid his palm from her mouth, to replace it with his lips. He explored with his tongue, seeking, tasting and Rachel parted her lips in welcome. She used her own tongue to join in the sensual dance, and for a few minutes this was enough. When Callum eventually broke the kiss Rachel was already dazed and disorientated. And hungry for more. She reached up to loop her arms around his shoulders, a smile on her face.
    Callum’s finger on her lips reminded her of her vow of silence. He stepped back, looking her up and down. Rachel’s tousled hair tumbled from the loose pony tail she’d arranged earlier, but she felt good in her soft red Kashmir sweater, and dark gray skinny jeans. She’d chosen the outfit deliberately this morning, wanting to look attractive while not over-doing it. Her strappy leather sandals dangled from her toes as her feet swung a foot from the floor. His whispered “God, you’re lovely,” warmed her, but despite her studied choice of clothes she still wondered if he was perhaps being kind—it was the gentlemanly thing to say, in the circumstances, after all.
    “I brought you a present.”
    He stuck his free hand into his jeans pocket, pulled out what Rachel thought might be two small crocodile clips, in a very fetching shade of lilac, held together on a light chain. She opened her mouth to ask what they were, although she had a strong suspicion she knew well enough, but that imperious finger stopped her once more. Taking her hand in his, he dropped the nipple clamps into her upturned palm, and dug into his other pocket. This time he brought out two small, bullet-shaped metal weights, each with a small loop at one end. He placed those in Rachel’s other hand, and winked at her as he looped his fingers under the hem at the front of her sweater.
    “Don’t drop your new toys.” He pulled the sweater up and over her head, then dropped it casually onto a chair. He stood back, his expression one of further admiration. Rachel was glad she’d had the foresight, or maybe just blind optimism, to make additional purchases from La Senzathe previous day.
    “Mmm, so pretty.” He trailed his fingertips along the upper edge of the pale lemon lace, cut low enough that he grazed her nipples as he explored. Rachel’s response was a slight shiver as her eyelids drooped. Her pussy clenched, the wetness starting, and she wondered not for the first time what the hell she was actually doing.
    Having more fun that she could ever remember, that’s what. And she hoped she’d dropped the latch when she came in.
    He undid the button on her jeans next, sliding the zip down to expose her lacy lemon briefs. He offered her another approving smile before he slid his hands into the waistband and politely asked her to lift up. Rachel obliged, and soon her jeans were in a heap on the chair too.
    “Have you ever been fucked on a table?”
    His polite inquiry, the questioning arched eyebrow, struck Rachel as oddly appropriate, and she responded with a brief shake of her head.
    “Ah