Free Bound to the Bad Boy by Molly Ann Wishlade

hard, so
big, and so ready for her.
    “I slept soundly, Master.”
    Please fuck me now.
    “You did. I know it because…” He
grinned and his brown eyes crinkled endearingly at the corners. “You did some
of your cute little piglet snores.”
    “I did not!” Megan wriggled
beneath him in protest.
    He nodded. “Just like always.
Some things never change.”
    Megan laughed. He had always
claimed that she snored when she was really relaxed. Not like a loud,
unpleasant foghorn but sweet little noises like a suckling pig. It had been one
of their shared jokes and one he used to tease her to the point of feigned
indignation.
    “Master?”
    “Sub?”
    “What are we doing?”
    A frown darkened his face and he
shifted so that his thick cock stopped probing her pussy.
    Damn. You’ve destroyed the moment.
    “I hoped you would come back one
day, Megan.” Using her name now, not her title. More serious.
    “You did?”
    “It hurt me so much when you left
but I knew that I had to let you go. It wouldn’t have been fair to keep you
here…if it wasn’t what you wanted.”
    Megan took a steadying breath.
Could she really ask the question that had raced through her head since she’d
received the invitation to the reunion? If
I go back…and see him again…what will happen? What will it mean?
    “And now, Matt? What about now?”
    It was out. But did she want to
hear the answer?
    “And now…” He stared at her. His
pupils dilated and Megan felt herself being dragged into their endless depths.
Matt was dark and deep. She had thought that she understood him, that she knew
him well. But if he had committed that awful crime, then she
hadn’t really known him at all. “Now I’m real glad to see you.”
    Real glad to see you? Was that
it? Did he not have feelings other than that, which he needed to share with
her? Did he want her to stay or to go? Was this just a bit of fun for him? Was
he now too busy with the hangers on who swarmed the clubhouse like greedy
little ants all desperate for a crumb from the high table?
    “How long are you in town?”
    She chewed her lip as she thought
about it. She had a week off work and had booked the hotel room for four
nights. She had told herself that she only intended on staying for one week but
now she knew that she had hoped to remain in Cherub for a while longer.
    “I’m here for a few days. There
are things I want to do…like visit the old cabin...check out my old home.”
    Matt nodded. “It’s been empty
since your folks left. I’ll bet it’s pretty run down now.”
    “I know. But I wanted to see the
old place again.” The hut and grounds where she’d spent her childhood. Where she had taken Matt when they began dating. Where she
had been when life was sweet and young and seemed full of potential. When anything seemed possible. She wanted to go back there
just to see if she could recapture some of that feeling. Even
if it was sentimental and foolish. You couldn’t go back, only forwards. Right?
    “Well I’ve got a few things I
have to get done today but I could take you up there tomorrow or maybe the day
after. How does that sound?”
    “That’d be great. Thanks.” He had
things to do? She wouldn’t be spending the day with him? Well what did she
expect? She had dumped him four years ago and severed all contact. She had hurt
him. Just because they’d had one hot and steamy night together didn’t mean that
he belonged to her again. If he ever had. She had to
pull herself together. Maybe she should just get her things together and get
the hell out of Cherub before she ended up in over her head again.
    That would be the wise thing to
do.
    “And…uh…if you’re up for it…I’m
going to Club Castille tonight.”
    He waited, one eyebrow raised in
query.
    Did she want to return to the
BDSM club that they had visited before their split? If she
didn’t go with him, who would he scene with? Was she really up to a
return to the scene…in public?
    As Matt began to kiss