Read Online TrickorTreat by Madeleine Oh - Free Book Online

showing
off her nipples! The fabric was soft against her skin, and the skirt hung
gracefully from the high waist, the hem brushing her ankles. The skirt didn’t
reveal as much as she’d feared. Until she moved. Sheesh! It left nothing to the imagination, and the back let in chilly night breezes. She felt so
exposed behind. He’d promised no anal sex, and she trusted that, but what about
a strong, male hand, stroking and squeezing her very available flesh?
    She was getting hot just thinking about it.
    Downstairs, she skipped her leather sofa, in preference for
a velvet-covered armchair as much cozier to the rear, only the nap brushed her
exposed ass and thighs every time she moved.
    Nine fifty! Ten minutes. She could last. A nice stiff drink
might help, but she remembered Jud’s dictum about not letting alcohol dull her
wits, and passed. The house was silent, as was the street outside. She listened
to the chiming clock on the mantle, and the hum and drip of the refrigerator as
it started the defrost cycle. She flicked open a magazine, but gave up trying
to concentrate on environmental protection laws, when she saw the print came
off on her sweaty hands.
    The last thing she needed was smudges on the rosebuds. Come
to think of it, the last time she’d worn rosebuds, she’d been five and flower
girl at an aunt’s wedding. But she was wearing flowered muslin because Jud had
ordered it. That realization, sent a weird thrill down her spine, but it didn’t
solve her dirty hands. She ran into the kitchen and washed them in the sink.
Now, they smelled of lemon fresh dish detergent now, but what the…
    Her mind and body went into shock at the sound of the front
door bell. What if it was a last contingent of trick or treaters? She couldn’t
open the door to local juveniles dressed like this. It couldn’t be kids. The
porch light was out. It was Jud.
    She peered through the spy hole, at a tall figure in the
dark. She flicked on the porch light, a pirate, complete with red spotted
kerchief and eye patch, looked right at her.
    “Open this door,” he said. “Or feel my rope end where you
don’t want it!”

Chapter Eight
     
    Her body tensed. Her throat jammed shut. She could barely
hear for the blood rushing in her ears, but she opened the door.
    And stood there, staring.
    He was incredible. Dark knee breeches and over-the-knee
boots accentuated the strength and muscles in his legs. He wore a purple silk
sash round his waist, and the full sleeves of his shirt billowed in the night
as he stood, feet apart, and hands on his waist. The knotted kerchief over his
dark hair, and his eye-patch completed the picture. With hair a little longer,
and shirt hanging open, he’d fit right on the cover of a romance novel. And
come to that, bent backwards over his arm, she’d show a prodigious amount of
bosom and leg. Maybe there was something about those paperbacks she covered
before reading on the bus.
    “I didn’t come to stand on the front step all evening,” he
said. “Although the sight of you in the light was worth the trip.”
    She stood aside and let him in. In the bright light of her
sitting room, he stood even more magnificent. He smiled and she smiled back,
until she noticed the whip tucked in his sash.
    She gulped, staring like a mouse caught in a snake’s eyes.
“Why?” she asked.
    He rested his hand over the top of the handle, his long
fingers rippling the tresses. “I brought it for you.”
    She shook her head. “You’re not whipping me!”
    “It’s purely for pleasure, not chastisement,” he said, as he
pulled it out of his belt.
    The sight of the long, blue tresses dangling from his hand
both horrified and fascinated her. “If that’s your idea, you’d better go right
now!” And if he did, she’d be desolated.
    “Bear with me long enough to prove what I say.”
    “How can being hurt be pleasurable?”
    “It’s very pleasurable in fact, but that’s not where we’ll
start. Trust me in this, Katie,”