Read Selling it All for Free Online Page B

massage expert,” Sarah
paused to look around the spacious, art gallery interior of his
house, “and you obviously have impeccable taste. I give up! You're
either a serial killer, or you're gay. Which is it?” She demanded
playfully.
    “Neither, I assure you. I work too much to
really hold down a relationship, and the domestic stuff keeps me
grounded. I just like being good at everything I do, that's all.”
He said with sincerity.
    “Really?” Sarah retorted incredulously. She
looked out toward the large windows. The dusk had come and gone,
and now it was just pure inky black outside, as the halogen accent
lights over the paintings provided the only illumination. They were
both cast in a bath of up lighting, and she was transfixed once
again on Joe's casual elegance.
    He was wearing a Hemut Lang suit like it was
something he gardened in. The suit coat had been eschewed for a
fitted shirt with rolled up sleeves. His discarded tie hung out of
his pants pocket, and his dress socks were scattered somewhere
downstairs. This moment only served to personify him as the true
alpha male he claimed to be.
    Sarah caught herself swaying a little too
much, and she had to brace herself against the ornate railing of
the loft space. “Boy, its a good thing I didn't drive here!” She
said, as Joe reached out to steady her with those strong hands.
    “I'm not too sure I want Ernesto driving you
home like this either.” Joe said in an appraising voice. “Why don't
you sleep in the guest bedroom tonight?”
    “I really have to...whoa, I need to sit
down.” She slid into a nearby cafe chair as the swirling in her
head intensified.
    “I'm sorry Miss Bella, but you're in no shape
to go anywhere.”
    Sarah fell even deeper into whatever was
happening to her. Instead of a full blackout, she was treated to a
hodgepodge of flashed images and scenes. She first remembered being
hefted over Joe's shoulder so he could carry her downstairs. Then
there was the hallway leading to the guest bedroom. The last thing
she remembered was her shoes being removed and a soft chenille
throw being tucked around her.

Chapter 4
    Sarah startled awake in the dead quiet of the
large house. The morning sun flooded into the windows, as she heard
the same distant crashing surf from last night. Her eyes were dry,
and she felt like her limbs weren't working right. She shook the
cobwebs from her mind and did a quick mental assessment of what
happened. She knew she was with Joe last night. She knew they had
dinner and drinks. She had that awesome back rub, and
then...blank. She wriggled her toes, and tried to get feeling back
into her arms so she could move them finally. It was when she
strained her head upward that she saw that same tie from last night
wrapped neatly around her wrists. She had been secured to one of
the posts of the antique, wrought iron bed.
    Now it was time to panic! She was trapped in
an unfamiliar house, and she was tied to a bed. She heard her phone
chiming away to notify her of the unread emails and texts, but she
was utterly and hopelessly stuck. She cursed herself for being so naïve ! How did she not see this coming? She had a showing
today, and she was sure to miss it since she was lashed securely to
Joe's guest bed. She hated herself for the fact that she was hoping
so much more would have happened last night. It was obvious
that she was just being played like always. Every struggle seemed
to make the knot tighter around her wrists, and she feared that any
more movement would start cutting off the blood flow to her
hands.
    Resigned to her fate, she let her hands go
slack and just decided to wait it out. After about an hour, she
heard footsteps coming down the hall. They weren't Joe's, in fact
they weren't even men's footsteps at all. There was a quiet knock
at the door, and a small Hispanic woman peered around the open
door. She began uttering various unintelligible phrases in Spanish,
as she rushed to untie Sarah.
    “Muchos gracias