“What is that?”

He smiled. He ripped open the roll. It sounded like Velcro. The next thing she knew, her wrists were bound behind her back with the stuff.

“Bondage tape,” he said, satisfaction deepening his voice.

She blinked. Her wrists tingled.

“You can’t be serious,” she breathed into the sleeping bag. “What are you, some kind of sadistic perv?” She rolled over, bending her elbows and fitting her hands into the small of her back.

He tipped his head to one side and held her gaze steadily. “Maybe.”

Her stomach did a little flip and warmth spread through her body. “I could just scream for help.”

“Yeah…no. You won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t want anyone to know about this. And also because I have this.” He pulled out a black rubber strap with a red ball attached to it.

Kyla stared. “What the hell is that?”

“A ball gag.”

“Jesus.” Her insides tightened and her pulse leaped. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Not if you keep quiet.” He held up the gag with a questioning look and a teasing glint in his eye that both excited and reassured her. The idea of trying to get away came into her head and then disappeared. Really, she had no hope of escaping him. And really…she didn’t want to.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “I don’t want that,” she muttered. “I don’t want this stuff on my wrists either.” She eyed the case. “What other kinky stuff have you got in there?”

He smiled. “This.” He pulled out a small cloth bag. From it he withdrew a glass dildo. Her lips parted as she studied it. It was really very beautiful, clear glass with swirling red hearts in the shaft of it. She longed to touch it, to feel the weight of it, the smoothness of the glass. She swallowed. “Some lube,” he added, tossing a small bottle onto the bed. “A paddle. A blindfold. Some other stuff…but I don’t want to scare you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Oh lord, anticipation curled deep inside her. Her eyes fell on the paddle.

His grin had her melting into her panties. “I know, dammit. I never have, have I?”

She cocked her head, unsure what that was about. “No. But why would you want to?”

“I don’t want to scare you.” He sat on the bed beside her and laid his hand on her chest between her breasts. Her nipples immediately tightened and her skin heated. “Sometimes I wish you were just a little more impressed with me.”

She gazed up at him, not sure what to say. Didn’t he know how impressed she was with him? How much she’d worshipped him?

“But then,” he continued, his hand sliding up until it rested at her throat, cupping her there, so gently, yet so compellingly. “I’m actually glad you’re not. You treat me just like anyone else.”

She continued to gaze at him, studying his face, trying to read what was behind these enigmatic comments. His hand on her throat made her feel…as if she belonged to him. Her heart beat faster. And harder. “I guess…” Okay, the brother comparison was just wrong now after what they’d just done. And truthfully, since she’d been old enough to know what sexual feelings felt like, that whole brother thing had been out the window. “I guess you’re not that special,” she finished.

His eyes widened, then narrowed—and then he laughed. “See? You fucking turn me upside down, Mac.”

His use of that old nickname only stirred up her mixed feelings even more. She’d wanted so much to be one of the boys, she’d begged them to call her that. All the other boys had laughed at her, but Tag had started calling her that, and somehow, it had rubbed off on the others. She’d been forever grateful to him for that, for not making fun of her over it.

“Untie my hands,” she said.

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Tag…”

“Kyla.”

She gazed back at him in frustration.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, stroking her hair back from her face. “Do you trust that I won’t hurt you?”

The answer sprang immediately to her lips, but she didn’t say it. A question that important, that significant, deserved some thought. So she thought about it. And the answer was the same. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“But I like to be in control.”

“Yeah. I know.” One corner of his mouth kicked up. “But maybe it could be good to let go of control for a change. Hmmm?”

Resistance flared up inside her. She liked to be in control. She had to be in control. Being vulnerable and helpless like this made her feel…scared.

But yet, it wasn’t Tag she was afraid of. So what was it?

She pressed her lips together, still studying his face. She’d known him most of her life. She knew his character—his reputation on the ice was the same as off the ice. He was known as an ethical player, someone who took responsibility, who stood up for others who needed it, who played by the rules, always did his best. He’d always been like that, on and off the ice. She knew she was safe with him.

“It’ll be good,” he said, still stroking her hair.

“I like to be on top.”

He turned his head slightly and his eyes darkened. “We’ll take turns.”

A smile tugged at her lips and she gave in to it. “You always were so fair. And bossy.”

The smile they shared had something soft and warm unfurling inside her, something big and expansive that made her throat ache a little.

He was torturing both of them by prolonging this. But for some reason, he didn’t want to go from zero to sex in two point five seconds. He wanted to turn her on, bring her up, play with her a little and make it so, so good.

He leaned over and kissed her mouth. “Just relax,” he murmured. “Let me do this.” Now that she was naked, he wanted to be too, so he rose and got rid of his cargo shorts and underwear. His cock sprang up and he gave it a couple of long, slow strokes as he moved over her on the bed. She watched him, her eyes on his hand, lips parted hungrily. Oh man.

He knelt between her thighs. She winced a little as he parted them and he smiled. “Still sore, sweetheart?”

“Just a bit. I’m okay.”

“Good.” He bent and kissed one thigh, smooth and soft, then kissed his way up to her hip bone, across her tummy to the other hip and down to that thigh. He stretched out on the bed then and gently pushed her knees back to reveal her to him. He studied her. Fascination with the female body filled him, along with admiration and intense arousal. What mysteries and raptures were hidden away between women’s legs, so secret, so delicious. Pink and plump, her soft, hairless folds glistened with her own arousal. He kissed her there, soft little closed-mouth kisses up one side, and down the other. He nuzzled the tiny patch of dark hair, breathed in the sweet female scent of her. His mouth watered to taste her. He swallowed and rubbed his face on her thigh, his whiskers rasping a little on her soft skin. “Nice, Kyla. So beautiful.” With his thumbs he parted her flesh, revealing deeper pink, more creaminess, and now he drew his tongue through the slit. Her body jerked and her fingers curled into the sleeping bag. Soft cries of pleasure filled the tent.

“Sweet.” He swallowed her taste, licked her again, slow, long, lush licks, then kissed her clit. She cried out again. He played with her clit with his tongue, loving how it swelled and strained against his mouth, how she pulled her knees back even more. He slipped his hands under her ass and held her to his mouth, feasting on her with his lips and tongue and, so carefully, his teeth. “So sweet, Kyla.”

“Oh god, oh my god.” Her head turned from side to side on the pillow. “Oh Tag, that’s so good.

“You taste so good, baby.” He swiped his tongue over the softest flesh, her scent filling his head. “Oh man, Kyla. I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Do it!”

He looked up at her, his gaze tracking over her flat stomach and soft breasts, her arms still pinned beneath her. “Uh-uh. That just earned you more torture.”