Knowing the Ropes Read Online Free

appalling, taken-straight-from-cheap-porn lines in what he hoped was a good imitation of Craig’s arrogant, slightly nasal voice.
    Selene sputtered with laughter. “My God—him! This has to be the same idiot who hit on me earlier, the one who used lines that would make a Neanderthal blush. That poor kid! I’d been envying her courage. At her age, I wouldn’t have had had the nerve to come to something like this. But maybe it’s just as well. I missed out on some good clean dirty fun, but at least I had a chance to grow some common sense before I got started.”
    Common sense. What a concept. Yes, he could definitely get to like this woman. The big brown eyes, cute smile and killer curves didn’t hurt, but the attitude really appealed to him.

Chapter Three
    The meet-and-greet ended at five o’clock. Alison and Garth came over to say good-bye to Selene and Nick. While Garth and Nick chatted, Selene touched Alison’s arm and asked, “Confab in the lady’s room?”
    Alison let Selene pull her just a few steps away. It occurred to Selene that Alison probably didn’t want to interrupt Garth to say where she was going, so she was staying in sight. Then Alison leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “If it’s about Nick, he’s a great guy. He’s one of Garth’s best friends, and he’s pretty much the opposite of a dom to duck. I’m going to do the responsible-friend thing and say you should just talk and smooch tonight, but if you wind up playing, I know he’ll play safe.”
    Selene hugged her and whispered back, “Thank you! I’ll try to behave—but no promises!”
    And so kinksters spilled out onto the muggy streets of Boston singly and in twos, threes and larger groupings. Selene found herself with Nick, drifting toward an early dinner somewhere. He had a place in mind but hadn’t actually told her where, and she found she liked the feeling that she’d put herself into his hands in this small way.
    The more she talked with Nick, the more his cool blue gaze and warm smile distracted her, and the more she felt his body language sync up with hers. No, not exactly in sync but one step ahead, anticipating her next movement and influencing it, as if starting to mold her already. She watched his big hands, imagining them alternately caressing and slapping her breasts, her thighs, her ass.
    She looked down at his feet when she imagined her fevered thoughts were too obvious in her eyes, then imagined herself kneeling there, naked, trembling, wet.
    Actually, she didn’t need to imagine the wet and trembling part. Her panties already felt suspiciously damp and her knees were shaky.
    They walked more or less in silence. Between traffic noise, noise from the perennial construction along Atlantic Avenue and the melting heat, talking seemed far too much like work. Even the breeze off Boston Harbor was sticky.
    By the time they crossed a bridge over Fort Point Channel, she was wishing she’d worn flats, even if they wouldn’t have looked right with the outfit. She prayed that the restaurant would be an informal place where she could slip her shoes off under the table.
    Once she saw the restaurant, her feet breathed a sigh of relief.
    The Barking Crab was a tribute to the beachside clam shack. Rough picnic tables covered with butcher paper—they even provided crayons for doodling. A mix of fried and steamed seafood, with a few more sophisticated but still basic selections. And outdoor seating on the harbor, so she could kick off the damn heels and relax. “It’s a tourist trap,” Nick said, “but it’s fun.”
    Soon they were drinking cold beers—he’d recommended the fascinatingly named Smuttynose, from a brewery in New Hampshire—and awaiting plates of fried scallops, fried calamari and steamed mussels. Selene hadn’t eaten a great deal that day and the frosty, hoppy beer was making her feel pleasantly euphoric.
    Or maybe that was Nick.
    She stretched out her bare foot, brushed it against his calf. Hard