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throat. She’d never be able to drive the last bit with his hands on her. She could barely think, let alone drive. “Take off your belt.”
    His hand paused on her thigh. “Now?”
    “Yes. Now.”
    His hand left her leg and she was able to pull in a breath, but not for long. The metal latches on his belt clipped and clanged. He breathed hard, hips thrust forward as he adjusted around to pull the long, brown braided, leather belt from his hips. He wound the leather around his hands and pulled it tight until the leather creaked. “I bet we can use this later.”
    Heat filled her cheeks as she parked behind his house. Oh lord. What had she gotten herself into? She hopped out of the truck, anxious and terrified to find out. Or, she grinned, she could just get her hands on the belt first.
    The night was dark and silent. The country air refreshing and cool after the overly warm evening spent rushing between customers and the heat of the grill in the kitchen. A slight breeze moved through enough to startle the tips of her ponytail off her neck. He opened the door and she stepped in ahead of him. The familiar scent of him washed over her all over again. It was Jacob, on overload. The door closed behind her and she turned in the living room. Trapped in his space and so ready for it.
    She pointed at his clothes. “Off with them.”
    He leaned against the wall instead, his lips turned up. “If I remember right, you gave the last command. My turn.”
    Her eyes widened, desire tightened and tingled as he continued his direct perusal of her down to her toes and back up to her breasts where her t-shirt seemed extra tight now. The sight of him staring at her, seeing his gaze darken, lips parting, had her nipples tightening. Weight filled her bra as he looked on. So that’s the way it was going to be.
    Yeah, she had no arguments.
    His gaze never left her breasts. “Take your shirt off.”
    She didn’t wait and did as directed. The lace of her bra edged close against her aching nipples. The stiff fabric cupped her breasts high and he licked his lips. He started forward but she stepped back, concerned about that belt dangling and swaying in his hand. She wasn’t into pain for pleasure’s sake. But, oh damn, the fun that belt could promise in its gentle swing if she played this right.
    She grabbed a chair from the kitchen, put it in the middle of the living room and directed him at it. “Sit.”
    He hesitated then followed her word. The wooden chair groaned under his weight, but held him. “Lose the shorts.”
    She flipped the button open and lowered the zipper enough to show the matching blue panties beneath, but stopped there.
    His brow lifted. “You’re not following the rules.” He made a down motion with the tip of his fingers. “Off.”
    She turned her back to him and glanced over her shoulder. His eyes had narrowed as he met her gaze, but when she started swaying her hips side-to-side, his gaze lowered back to her rear as she slowly pushed the shorts down until she was only in her boy-short panties.
    The leather belt cracked and pulled around his fists as his knuckles whitened. Tension was thick through his shoulders and throat. She walked toward him, leaned over and grasped the belt. “Hands behind your back.”
    His eyebrows lifted and he stared at her.
    She straightened. “Should I leave instead?”
    The corner of his mouth kicked up and his hands moved behind him, arms circled the narrow wooden rods of the kitchen chair. She wrapped the belt around his wrists, securing him tightly to the chair. A satisfied smirk grabbed her lips. He was all hers, however she wanted. Just how she liked things. She walked back around in front of him, her nails dragged across his neck and fingers, traced his ear until he shuddered.
    Chills pricked across skin. His eyes met hers. “Do I have to ask?”
    She leaned over, sliding her knee between his powerful legs until meeting his cock. “A request for music would be nice.”
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