Free Bound Guardian Angel by Donya Lynne Page A

now. Just lie still and relax.”
    Carefully, so as not to cut skin or break
the wax canvas, Micah slowly peeled back the thick, hardened sheet.
As Micah gently pulled it away, Trace’s mochaccino skin stuck to
it, so Micah had to work slowly. He didn’t want to cause Trace any
discomfort. Not when he was so relaxed and gliding over invisible
clouds.
    Once the last corner pulled free, Micah set
the entire rectangular sheet on the floor in one glorious
piece.
    “How you doin’, big guy?” Micah gently
brushed his palm over the red skin on Trace’s back as he set the
knife down then grabbed the dry shower loofah from the table. “You
hanging in there?”
    “Yes, Master.” Trace’s voice was barely a
whisper.
    Micah grinned wickedly to himself. Who said
you had to get flogged bloody to have a deep submissive experience.
See what a good waxing at the hands of a patient master could
do?
    Trace groaned and purred again as Micah
lightly brushed the loofah up and down his back and bottom, using
circular motions to clear away any remaining wax.
    Once he was satisfied Trace was clean and
clear, he took a damp cloth, walked around to the other side of the
table, rolled Trace toward him so Trace’s back was propped against
his torso, and carefully wiped away his semen.
    Trace’s cock was still hard, and as Micah
wiped the damp cloth down the shaft, Trace came again. Out of
nowhere, Trace’s body convulsed and a creamy stream shot out onto
the dark-blue sheet, followed by several smaller spurts. Trace
groaned through each one until his body calmed once more and he
took a heavy, cleansing breath.
    “Look at you, champ.” Micah glanced up to
find Trace’s pale-green eyes watching him. “Twice and I barely even
had to try.”
    Trace blinked heavily, and the corners of
his mouth curled weakly. “You da man.”
    Only Trace could crack a joke at a time like
this.
    Micah chuckled softly then shook his head.
“No, buddy. You are.” He stroked his palm over Trace’s hip. “Now,
come on. Let’s finish cleaning you up and get you to bed.” Trace
had to be tired after not only the scene, but everything else he’d
endured over the past two weeks.
    Micah tucked his left arm around Trace’s
shoulders and his right arm under his knees. Then he lifted Trace
off the table. He could clean up the wax-covered sheets tomorrow.
Right now, he just wanted to take care of his friend.
    * * *
    Cordray glared through the rain-splattered windshield
at Micah’s house. Lightning streaked the sky as she shot the Range
Rover into his driveway. Before the engine completely shut off, she
was storming up the walkway toward the front door as thunder
rolled.
    She pounded and rang the bell as the clouds
continued to empty their contents on her. When no one opened the
door within two seconds, she pounded her fist on it again then hit
the bell three more times.
    “Micah, you son of a bitch!” she stepped
back and yelled. “Open this goddamn door!”
    Racing over here, she’d had time to discard
the voice of reason that had told her taking Trace without her
there had been the right thing to do. Now, the fact that Micah had
broken protocol just pissed her off. Check that. It infuriated
her.
    She lifted her fist and was about to go
Thor’s hammer on the heavy wooden door again when she heard a
system of locks disengage inside, and then the door swung open.
    “Who the hell . . .?” A
striking blonde with boy-short hair and green eyes gathered a
peach, floral print robe around her neck as a gust of wind blew
across the lawn.
    Cordray was briefly taken aback. Samantha
was lovelier and taller in person than she had been in Micah’s
thoughts during those times when Cordray poked around inside his
head.
    “You must be Sam,” she said.
    “Good guess. Who the hell are you?” Sam
glared at her.
    Oh, Cordray liked this one. She was feisty.
“I’m Cordray. I’m sure you’ve heard my name once or twice.”
    From the way Sam’s eyes narrowed and