Free To Sir by Rachell Nichole Page A

guy is called a bullet vibrator.”
    He stalked closer to her, holding the buzzing tool in his hand. She stayed glued to the spot. He raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for her protest as he held the vibrator inches above the skin of her breastbone. She said nothing.
    “Liz?”
    She swallowed. “What?” she croaked.
    “I need something more than you standing there if you want things to…progress,” he said.
    Crap. She wanted to stand here and allow him to do whatever he wanted with that bullet, but he wasn’t going to let her get off that easy. She wanted to be a reluctant participant, to let him make the decision for her so she wouldn’t have to be responsible for this out-of-control desire thundering through her, or its consequences. Obviously, he wouldn’t allow that. She nodded, hoping it would be enough.
    “Ms. Clark,” he said, his voice a warning.
    “Okay. Yes.”
    “Yes to what?”
    “To you showing me…things.”
    “And what about to touching you?” he said, moving the bullet so close to her skin that the vibration made the hairs on her arm stand up.
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    “You will tell me to stop when you want to, understood? That’s all you have to say.”
    She nodded.
    He narrowed his eyes, those dark eyebrows lowering.
    “Okay, yes. I hear you.”
    “Good,” he said, setting the cool metal against her chest and letting it pulse against her. The heat from his body cascaded over her all at once, and her knees threatened to give out.
    He trailed the vibrator down the V of her shirt and dropped it between her breasts. Her breath left her in a ragged rush. He turned from her, his feet pounding across the floor to the other side of the room as she quivered. She was so close to orgasm she could almost taste it. She watched with half-closed eyes as he took out a small wrist cuff from somewhere in his collection. He returned and lifted her hand, placing a chaste kiss to the pads of her fingers.
    Cocking his head to the side, he waited again for her to say no. Stupidly, she said nothing. She was trapped in this room, though she was pretty sure he hadn’t locked the door. The urge to run was strong, but the urge to stay, to learn more, was stronger.
    “Liz?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, her voice coming hoarsely from her parched throat.
    She knew she couldn’t be trusted to say no when need spiraled out of control inside her. He’d told her when she said she wanted to stop, he would. For some foolish reason, she believed him. And she felt guilty about her trust in him, even worse for the fact that she didn’t want to tell him to stop. How could she possibly be enjoying this? The thought of letting him take that vibrator and shove it deep inside her until she screamed should repulse her. Instead, an answering flash of heat soaked her core.
    She relished having control of her life, her decisions. Maybe that was the problem here—she did have control, a voice, a choice. And she was choosing to stay, even if she would hate herself later for her weakness. He wound the soft leather around her wrist and buckled it in place. The weight of the snug material felt altogether familiar and foreign, like wearing a heavy bracelet.
    Kiss me , her body demanded, but she refused to voice the plea. The buzzing between her breasts became more insistent, and a wicked grin spread on Chase’s face. He held a small remote in his hand.
    “It’s about surrender,” he whispered.
    She shifted, and the vibrator slipped lower to the underside of her breast, closer to her taut nipple, where she wanted the sensation to travel. But short of sticking her hand into her shirt and moving it herself, she wasn’t going to get what she wanted. She wasn’t that bold.
    Chase flicked the switch, and the vibration stopped. The sudden lack of sensation made her whimper. So much for keeping things professional.
    He turned his back to her again and returned with the matching cuff for her other wrist. She didn’t wait for him to