Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

it, just for a moment. Obviously Sam meant well, in his own warped and deluded way.
    Once I'd relaxed again—as much as I could with my arms and legs bound—he leaned in closer and whispered in my ear. "What do you like?"
    I groaned. What wouldn't I? Shit, why didn't Sam tell me? Then I would have spent the last hour looking forward to this dark angel, and not pissed. It had to be that stupid bondage book because even knowing this guy was a gift, I still struggled to wrap my head around being tied up to meet him.
    "Untie me," I said. He sat up straight, and his hands stilled. He cocked his head to one side and suddenly I got the impression I'd spoken a foreign language. "Come on, untie me so I can touch you. That's the point, isn't it?"
    "Is it? That's not what I heard."
    "Fucking Sam," I said, suddenly exasperated.
    "Shh… Language."
    He pressed a finger over my lips and instead of being annoyed, like when Sam shushed me, I fell silent willingly. I wanted to make this stranger happy. I wanted him to resume rubbing my sore shoulders, but not like this. It felt good, but it still hurt.
    "I liked what you were doing before," I whispered.
    "But?"
    Oh, he's good. "But as good as you are with your hands, I've been stuck here too f—" I censored myself without consciously deciding to do so, but his comments about swearing seemed to have stuck. "I've been sitting so long my ass is numb." Only so much, I supposed, and maybe a part of me hoped he'd rub that ass too, whether he considered it a bad word or not.
    He tapped a finger on his lips, his alluring grey-blue eyes studying me. "If," he said with great stress on the word if, " if I untie you, will you do as I say?"
    My eyes widened, and he smiled that playful-feral smile. He knew he had me even if it weirded me out to be bossed around by a guy who had to be forty pounds and at least two inches smaller than me.
    "Everything," he said. "You must behave."
    "Being good is overrated."
    "Oh, sweetie, I am very, very good. Don't you dare knock it."
    I laughed. For the first time since I walked in the door, I felt comfortable and content. Weird, since my shoulders burned with renewed anger at their position, and I still hadn't decided to forgive Sam yet.
    Still, I nodded. "But I'm not calling you Mistress."
    He snorted and rolled his eyes. "If you do, I'll leave you just like this, and then not call Sam to tell him that it's safe to come home."
    My smile widened. "We have until you say so?"
    He shrugged. "Always. When I say so may be up for negotiation."
    I wasn't negotiating anything. Maybe I'd just run up a helluva bill in "extras" to teach Sam a lesson I could enjoy. Oh, yes, this would be fun.
    "What's your name?" I craned my neck to try and see his face as he crouched beside and behind me to untie my elbows and wrists.
    "Wolfgang," he said simply. When I didn't reply, digesting the unusual name for the unusual guy, he added, "My mom had high hopes of me becoming a concert pianist. Most people just call me Wolf, because I'm no Amadeus."
    "So you're not. A pianist, I mean?"
    For a brief moment, his surprise showed, and then he corrected me. "He was more than just a pianist." He winked and continued, "I play, and I play well, but I didn't have the dedication for that level of cut-throat competition. I teach instead."
    A music teacher? My heart swelled. I thought of the guitar collecting dust in my closet because I'd been too lazy to do the research to find a good teacher who would allow me to learn songs I actually liked.
    "Do you play anything else?"
    "Guitar, cello…" he laughed.
    "Why is that funny?" I tried to twist to see what he was doing. The knots were strong, but it seemed to take a lot longer than it should, and so he spent too much time out of my sight, his fingers brushing fire over my skin as he did whatever he was doing back there with the ropes.
    "I accidentally set my mom's grand piano on fire, so she threw my first guitar in the fireplace. She came home early one day, and I had to hide a cigarette quickly. I had nothing against the piano." He stood and smiled down at me, and this smile full of fond memories glowed brighter than his sexy thoughts smile. I wanted to know more about him; I wanted to make that beautiful smile grace those lips again and again. Was I angry when he showed up? That seemed hours ago.
    "Did the cello survive?"
    He draped his arms around my neck and straddled my hips again. "Do you really want to know?" he asked.
    My immediate