Restraining the Receptionist: ... the Receptionist, Book 2 by Juniper Bell Read Free Book Online Page B

semester abroad in Paris, and the year I spent in Fiji with the Peace Corps. I’m joking,” I added, when he didn’t laugh.
    “Oh. Well, I’m certainly familiar with your sense of humor, but I confess I don’t understand the joke. You could have done those things.”
    I let out a spurt of laughter that startled the pigeon. “I had other things to do.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like dodge my father’s fists after a drinking binge.”
    “Ah.” Ethan didn’t show sympathy or disapproval or anything else. He chewed on his stack of multi-grain goodness. “And your mother?”
    “No clue. My father always said she ran away, but for all I know he has her body dismembered in a freezer somewhere.”
    That earned me a sharp taste of Blue Fury.
    “I’m kidding. I have a dark sense of humor. My father’s not that bad. And my stepmother would have gone for poison instead.”
    A crack of laughter from Ethan. “You really are something, you know that? You fascinate me.”
    I filled my mouth with sandwich so I didn’t have to answer that. I was very much afraid the fascination was mutual. We settled into a munching, digesting kind of silence. He had one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, and occasionally his bent leg would brush against mine. Every time it happened, a little jolt of awareness zinged straight to my groin. Did he know it was happening? Was he doing it deliberately?
    “Your knee keeps touching me.”
    “Does it?” He didn’t move away.
    “That’s against the rules.”
    “So sorry.” But he didn’t look sorry. He looked entirely unconcerned, even though he moved his knee away. “One of these days we must write these rules down. For instance, is all physical contact forbidden while Simon is away, or only that of a sexual nature?”
    Lord, why did he have to say “sexual” with that spark in his eyes and that slant of his eyebrow? It wasn’t fair, damn it.
    “Another example. I’ve been longing to tell you how delicious you look today and how the shadow of your nipples through the fabric of your blouse keeps drawing my eyes. But is verbal praise also off-limits, since I’d be unable to keep it G-rated, I’m afraid?”
    “You can’t see my nipples through my blouse!” I looked down to make sure.
    “Oh, yes, I can. I know what they’re doing right now. They’re just beginning to stir to life. You’re probably feeling a pleasant prickling as they become engorged. I’ve realized something about you, you know. The sound of my voice has a powerful effect on you.”
    So right he was. I tried to block out his voice. Might as well try to stop the Hudson River.
    “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I could bring you to orgasm just with my voice. I wouldn’t have to touch you at all. All I’d have to do is tell you what I wanted to do to you. I’d tell you how much I want to bend you over this bench and take you in the open air. Or how much I’d like to tie you to that birch tree over there, open your blouse and bring you to orgasm with my fist up your cunt. Sure, someone might see. For instance, those three fellows playing Frisbee over there. It’s entirely possible they’d start to notice when I tied your hands behind the tree and ripped off your blouse. Maybe they’d even come running to your rescue.”
    His gravelly voice hypnotized me so I could practically picture the scene. My body melted into a shivery puddle of craving.
    “And then, of course, I’d have no choice but to invite them to join us, either as witnesses or participants. They look like red-blooded, able-bodied, clean-cut gentlemen, nothing to fear. I’d have to convince them you were willing. More than willing. Eager. I’d have to show them how wet you already were, just from having your breasts exposed. You like being exposed, don’t you?”
    “Stop,” I murmured. This was going into an area we’d never touched. Other men had had no place in our games so far.
    As soon as I told him to stop, he did. And as soon as