Her Perfect Revenge (27 page)

"Your wish is my command," he announced and with one good lunge, he threw himself on the bed, landing on top of her.

She laughed, enjoying herself in spite of herself. But she was still in complete control.

His arms came around her and he brought his face inches away from hers. She was lying underneath him but he expertly kept his weight off of her.

"I think it's about time I start sowing some of those wild oats, don't you think," he laughed before letting his lips lock onto hers, giving her one of the most passionate, deep, delicious kisses she'd ever experienced in her life.

Wow—he'd been telling the truth when he'd said he was good at—farming, Christina thought. His lips and tongue left hers and began a slow descent down her neck, onto her chest, down her belly and were on their way down to her crotch, his hands expertly parting her thighs when Christina almost lost it.

Almost.

But she regained her wits and steadied her breathing just as his fingers were clasping the elastic band of her panties, ready to pull them off. She laughed then, a sexy, throaty laugh and with one strong push managed to put him on his back and her back on top of him.

He laughed too, as he let her do it. It was all part of her game, Bill thought and however she wanted to play it was fine by him. Besides, she was full of surprises and he was having so much fun. She lowered her lips to his and gave him a strong, deep kiss which he returned, tongue for tongue. As his hands reached for her bra clasp, she pulled back up and away from him and looked into his eyes.

"There's something else I need you to wear before we can make love," Christina whispered.

Oh shit, Bill thought. He'd been so hot for her, he'd almost forgotten the condoms. His lips stretched into a knowing smile,

"Darling, I've got some in my bathroom. I'll be right back." He made to get up but she pushed him back down on the bed.

"No, I've got those too. It's…" she paused for effect, "…something else that I need."

"Baby, bring it on."

Christina reached into the still open bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She dangled them on one perfectly manicured finger as she dared him with her smile. "Wear them for me?"

Bill didn't think he could get any hotter for her than he already was but he was wrong. His temperature shot up 10 degrees.

Smiling, he brought his wrists together, "I'm all yours, sweetheart."

"No, like this," Christina instructed and she sensuously brought both his wrists up over his head and ever so slowly handcuffed him to the wrought iron posts in her headboard.

The handcuffs clicked into place—and he was her prisoner—with both hands securely locked over his head.

He smiled at her then. "Now what?" he playfully asked.

She smiled back at him as she climbed off, "Now this."

She stood beside the bed, looking down at him, handcuffed to the bed, with his hard erection forming a teepee in those damn, silly cartoon shorts.

Suddenly her smiling, sexy face disappeared and was replaced by an angry, shrewish look. She folded her arms across her chest. "How dare you want to bring your slut on our honeymoon!" Christina accused.

For a second, a look of confusion crossed Bill's features. Then his lips broke into a wide smile. "Oh I get it. This is role playing. Part of your little game. Well, you just tell me who you want me to be and I'll be it."

"How about a bastard husband-to-be? You're good at that."

Confusion crossed Bill's face again. There was something wrong here. The way she was standing—the way she was looking at him—he was getting an uncomfortable vibe, but he wanted her so badly that he pushed the thought from his mind.

He smiled at her again—that devastatingly, wicked smile that told her he was game for anything. "Okay, darling," he agreed. "I can do that. If angry sex is what you need, then angry sex is what you'll get."

Christina looked down at him with disdain. "Any kind of sex from you is the last thing I need, you asshole."

Bill's smile dropped. It suddenly dawned on him that something else was going on here besides a little foreplay fun.

He looked up at his hands shackled to the bedposts. This was not a good position for him to be in—not when she looked like that.

"What's going on?" he cautiously asked.

Christina put her hands on her hips. "I know all about your honeymoon plans, so don't deny it."

Bill shook his head as if shaking out the cobwebs in his brain. "What are you talking about? I haven't made any honeymoon plans."

"Really?" Christina sarcastically announced before moving to her dresser. She pulled out the tickets and fanned them out in front of him. "What are these, then?"

"I don't know? What are those?"

Christina shook her head. "Unbelievable. Deny everything even when I'm holding proof in my hands? You are truly amazing."

"Christina, I don't know what this is about but please, unlock me and we'll discuss this like two rational adults." He tried to sound firm but was failing miserably.

Christina ignored his request and approached the bed. She waved the tickets at him. "Okay, if that's how you want to play, fine. These are airline tickets I found in your bedroom."

Bill was indignant. "You were snooping in my bedroom?"

"Well, how else am I going to catch you in your lies?"

"What lies?"

"The lies you've been telling me when you've been swearing that your relationship with that tramp, Stephie is over."

"I've haven't seen Stephie since before I met you."

"Still sticking to your story, huh? I kind of admire that—if it wasn't so pathetic."

"It's not a story, it's the truth." Bill was getting angry himself especially since he was being accused of something he hadn't done. "Release me, Christina; now." He forcefully pulled at the handcuffs causing the bed to shake but not accomplishing much else. He was securely tied and those steel bracelets weren't coming off.

"Not until you tell me about these." She waved the tickets in his face.

"I don't know."

Christina couldn't believe his gall. "They're the tickets for our honeymoon to the Caymans."

Bill was surprised. "How did you know I was thinking about taking you to the Caymans?"

Christina rolled her eyes up. "Let's see." She threw the first ticket onto his naked chest. "There's one for you." She took the next one and threw that too. "And one for me." She waved the last ticket in the air before launching it at him. "And one for your slut girlfriend, Stephie. What were you planning? Two separate hotels… one for screwing her and one for trying to screw me? Busy little beaver, aren't you?"

Bill yanked hard at the handcuffs but they weren't budgeting. He looked at her stone face. "I've never seen these tickets in my life. I did not book anything either." Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind. "You said you found these in my room. Where were they?"

"Like you don't know."

"I don't!" he shouted.

"They were in your bedside table drawer."

"How did you know to look there?"

"Your girlfriend told me all about your little plan."

Bill was shocked. "What? You talked to Stephie? When?"

"Last night at our beautiful, loving engagement party."

Bill let out a gasp. "Stephie was here?"

"You should know. You invited her."

Suddenly, things were becoming clear in Bill's befuddled brain. "I didn't invite her."

"She told me you did. And she told me all about your honeymoon plans… how you were going to bring your wife and your whore and how you had already booked everything. So I went looking for proof and guess what? I found it."

He looked hard at her then. "So this whole production… did you ever at any time during the past 20 minutes ever have any intention of having sex with me?"

Christina laughed out right at that one. "Sex with you? Please! I can do a better job of it myself."

Bill plopped his head back onto the pillow. "I'm such an idiot!"

Christina turned and walked over to a chair by the window where some clothes were thrown on it. She pulled off her black silk robe and her movements instantly riveted Bill's gaze. As she stood there in front of him with her black lace panties, bra and stay-up stockings, he could feel himself getting hard for her again. Damn it—after everything she was doing to him now, he still wanted her badly.

He watched her as she quickly threw on a pair of jeans and sweater—and Bill could feel himself getting even more turned on than he already was. This was the first time he'd ever gotten hard by watching a woman 'put on' clothes! What a total moron he was that he was so besotted with her that he was willing to take whatever she dished out—and love it.

"Christina, Stephie lied. It was all a setup. Untie me and we'll get to the bottom of this." Christina ignored him as she finished dressing. "Christina, did you hear me? Untie me. Now."

The blood was draining out of his arms and he could feel his fingers going numb. He gave the cuffs another good yank but they weren't budging. "Christina, goddamn it, let me go." He was trying to keep the panic out of his voice but he could hear it anyway.

She picked up something off her dresser then. It was a key. The key. She approached the bed again, holding it in the air.

Bill breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he said.

She smiled then—a wicked, diabolical smile—that sent shivers up his naked spine. "Christina?" he questioned, unsure of what she was going to do. She turned then and marched into the bathroom. Two seconds later, he heard a flushing sound.

"Nooooo…" His scream could be heard down the length of the massive upstairs hallway.

Christina came back out with a satisfied grin on her face. Yes, she had indeed flushed the key to his handcuffs down the toilet.

"What did you do?" he shouted at her.

"Exactly what you think." She shouted back. She then grabbed her purse, threw open her bedroom door and stalked out.

Bill frantically squirmed on the bed trying to get out of the handcuffs but she had tied him to the middle iron posts of the bed and he couldn't even reach the sides of the bed with his legs to stand up. And the worst part about it all—was that he was still horny as hell for her. His bulging ridiculous cartoon shorts proved the fact.

He started yelling after her. "Christina, come back here. Don't you dare leave me like this!" He was fuming now. She had no right to do what she had done—no right at all—especially since he was innocent of all charges. "Christina!" he yelled at the top of his lungs again.

* * *

Christina could hear him yelling out her name as she confidently walked down the main staircase to the foyer. Looked good on the bastard! But there was one last thing she had to do before she left. Christina went to William's office door and knocked.

"Come in," she heard him say in his British accent.

She opened the door and peeked in. He was sitting at his desk. "William, Bill needs to see you. He's in my room." She smiled at the old man before turning to walk out the door.

She needed to get away from this place tonight—and away from 'him'. His kisses and the intimate moments they had shared upstairs had affected her more than she cared to admit.

* * *

As Christina's BMW was peeling out of the Havenwood drive, William was already on his way up the stairs to Christina's bedroom. He could hear his son screaming out for her.

What the hell was going on?

William approached Christina's open bedroom door and peered in. There was his son—naked except for a pair of silly underwear, which were bulging up at a most inopportune angle—and the boy was handcuffed to the bloody bed.

Bill watched his dad slowly walk into the room. Oh no, this had to be the most embarrassing, humiliating, mortifying, moment of his life for his damned father to see him like this.

His father burst out laughing.

"Well, well, well," he said. "What did you do now?"

Bill was seething inside. "Nothing; I did nothing."

"Looks like it." William kept laughing as he came closer to the bed. "Did Christina do this to you?"

"No, I did it to myself. Of course, she did it to me," Bill gritted through his teeth. "And when I get my hands on her, there's going to be hell to pay."

"I'd say that was kind of difficult to do… getting your hands on her, I mean… considering that your hands are handcuffed to the bed." William burst out laughing for another round of guffaws at his son's expense.

Bill glared at his father. "Get me out of these!" Frustrated, he tugged hard at his handcuffs. He didn't liked being laughed at, especially by his old man.

"Son, I like that girl." William almost had tears streaming down his face.

Bill felt impotent and that was something he never felt. Oh—he was so angry at her for making him feel this way, for putting him in this god awful vulnerable position, for his father finding him like this—and for her making him still want her after it all.

"I'm so glad you approve, dad, but do you think you can maybe help me get out of these damned things!" Bill sarcastically replied, as he yanked at the cuffs again.

"I don't suppose you have the key?"

Bill seethed as he was forced to admit, "She flushed it down the toilet."

This brought another round of laughter from his father. "Down the loo, that's a good one. What a pistol!" He shook his head in between laughs.

"Dad? My handcuffs?" Bill jangled them, trying to bring his father's attention back to his predicament.

"Oh, right." William came over to inspect them. "I'll get Tom and ask him to bring…" William burst out laughing again. "…his tools from the potting shed."

William kept laughing as he walked out the door but Bill was fuming mad. First he'd deal with Stephie—and then he'd deal with—her!

In the end, Tom, the gardener had to saw through the steel handcuffs with Bill still trapped on the bed. To Tom's credit, he didn't ask any questions or say a word about the boy's situation—but man, would the story ever make the rounds of the house tonight!