Love Me: The Complete Series (61 page)

“You’re taking pictures of
me
.”

Busted. She shrugged. “Um, yeah,
and
the dog.”

He strode toward her with a hand outstretched. “Give me the camera.”

Uh-oh. Was he mad? Would he delete all the images? She swallowed. “I’m sorry—I should have asked.” She handed over the camera.

He grinned and looked at the display, scrolling through each frame. “You’re good. I like them.”

Caroline shrugged. “I take pictures for events as a side job to pay my rent.”

He lifted the camera and pointed her way. Click. He moved to her side. Click. “It’s only fair to have you in the frame, too. After all, how can you accurately record something if you’re not
there
? Right?”

She nodded and bathed in his smile.
Whatever you say, Mr. Chocolate Eye Candy.
“Right.”

“Listen, Caroline, I was wondering ... would you be interested in going with me to this party I have to attend next weekend?”

Damn. Did she really want to get involved with a guy who painted cartoons on trees, who obviously hasn’t fully matured? She stared into those crinkled eyes.

Oh, what the hell.

• • •

The following weekend, Caroline analyzed the chains laid out on the entry table at the Tau Kappa Epsilon house and cringed. “What are those for, and remind me why I agreed to this?”

She stopped suddenly at the door, and Roger banged into her from behind, sending her forward a step. “What’s wrong?” His breath fanned the back of her neck.

Oh, Lord, how long was this fiasco supposed to last? She couldn’t help but widen her eyes. “I’m wondering if I should have asked more than just the time and place for this party.” She picked one of the chains up and felt his chest warm against her shoulder as he peeked over.

“Oh. Um, yeah, I should have told you the theme. To be honest, I’d forgotten myself. It’s a ‘ball and chain’ party.”

“What’s a ball and chain party?”

“Don’t worry—no one’s going to lock you in a dungeon or anything.”

That wasn’t exactly what had passed through her mind, but it was good to know. No, her thoughts had gone straight into the gutter. A gutter full of chains and ties and him—naked—but she’d never admit those thoughts to a soul.

“We’ll be hooked together for the evening,” Roger explained. “I go where you go and vice versa. There are little armbands on the end of each chain, see?”

Seriously? Wow. Who came up with that idea?

He stepped past and grabbed her hand, pulling her along. Was he afraid she’d turn and run? She was tempted to plan an escape route and darted a glance around, just in case things went sour. Her thoughts must have been all over her face because he smiled one of his trademark dimpled bolts of happiness.

A tallish guy with brown curls slid their way—reminding her of an old Tom Cruise movie from her mom’s day. Except his sneakers squeaked on the tile as he approached. “Hi there, I’m Sean. Are you Roger’s date?”

Caroline glanced between the two men. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether we’re going to do anything crazy and stupid while tied together like prisoners.” She lifted her hand to jingle their intended jewelry.

Roger playfully yanked on the ponytail she’d twisted at the back of her head. “Well, it would be a shame to waste all these great toys, right? Sean, this is Caroline. She’s a little worried about the chain thing.”

Sean grinned. “They’re safe. The cuffs are just made out of elastic hair ties, so you can take them off if you guys get sick of each other or something. It’s just for fun. We have some games inside, too, and there’s a prize for whoever can complete all the games while staying connected for the duration of the evening. Oh, and if he disappoints you, come back and trade him in—I’m sure every guy here would kill for a chance to be handcuffed to you for a night, girl.”

Caroline sent her gaze skyward for half a beat, then twisted the elastic band between her fingers and gave it a couple of tugs. “Thank God they’re not
really
handcuffs.”

Roger rolled the elastic over his hand and winced. “Shit, it’s a little tight. Handcuffs might have been a little more comfortable. It feels like my circulation is being cut off.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “That’s hers, dumbass. There’s a big end and a little end. You get the big one.”

“Why didn’t you say that first?”

Caroline couldn’t resist. “Oh, rats. He promised me
I
would
get the big one tonight.”

Sean’s voice resembled a jackhammer as he laughed, and he motioned the people behind them to step forward for their armbands.

Caroline took the smaller band from Roger and rolled it into place. What a novel idea for a party, though she wasn’t sure if the intention was to scare people away from making commitments or just give these hormonal idiots a chance to play at bondage. Surely the organizers hadn't actually believed they could build a relationship out of tied together for the evening? The two entered the great room of Roger’s frat house, which was decorated with hand-painted signs featuring relationship-bashing smears and ball-and-chain jokes. Well, that eliminated one theory. The environment didn’t seem too conducive to a romantic handcuff-induced rendezvous, either. It was bound to be a long evening.

Another guy shoved an unopened beer toward Caroline, and she reached to grab the drink. Roger’s arm accompanied hers, whooshing out and hitting her in the side. She grabbed her rib. “Oops, sorry about that—chain hazard,” he said.

She shrugged. “No worries.”

His breath tickled her ear as he moved his free arm past to signal for a second drink. “I guess I should probably apologize upfront for anything my fingers or arms do without my knowledge based on their bondage level.” Another beer appeared, and they both popped the cans open with their free hands.

“Now that’s an excuse I haven’t heard before.” Caroline turned to survey the small crowded room and bumped right into Roger’s chest. “Yikes. This is going to take some getting used to.”

“Bump into me all you want. I won’t complain.”

“You say that now, but wait until I spill this all over you. Then you might change your mind.”

He shrugged. “The cleanup might be kinda fun. Let’s go see what the games require. You ready for this?”

Nope, but if she ditched the chain, would she be whipped for desertion? She wasn’t ready for anything so, um, brutal. But that wasn’t entirely true—she was nothing if not courageous. She’d craved any form of adventure for years, and her upcoming graduation came with the promise of a new escapade—into reality. Roger lifted his beer and took a sip. Caroline figured she’d better take advantage of his raised glass and do the same.

Roger pointed toward a group. In unison, they shifted their drinks to the other side. She followed with her arm dangling alongside his, their fingers only inches apart. She hoisted their arms up. “They could have at least given us a little more chain. What is this ... twelve inches? What if I have to pee?”

Roger lifted a brow but kept his dimples still. “I promise I won’t look—at least not much.”

She reached up to punch him, but the chain yanked his hand along and she whiffed. Not to be deterred, she put the beer in her chained hand and swatted him with the other. At least he didn’t say anything gross about the twelve inches. “I seriously doubt that.”

The room had wall-to-ceiling windows, and the thick curtains were drawn to display outside activities. Caroline’s eyes popped as she spotted a giant yellow-and-blue jungle gym in the yard. Teams of two slithered through tubes that were barely big enough for one adult male, let alone two people chained together. Gulp.

“That looks like fun,” Roger said. She didn’t have to look to know his dimples were showing. She gave him a short elbow jab to the stomach, and the chains jingled as if enticing her to deliver more punishment. She debated a second jab and realized it probably wasn’t very courteous to abuse her escort.

Roger rubbed the spot on his abs. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can always go get a pizza and beer. Or study at the library. Don’t feel like you’re committed.”

Committed. A funny choice of words, considering the theme of the party. She’d never been one to shy away from a challenge, and today wouldn’t be the first. “The library on a weekend night? Are you kidding? This is right up my alley. I love a good time and a good competition. Bring it on, baby.” She reached up and grabbed the collar of his shirt, then dragged him in for a short kiss. Hard. Firm. Good tension and just the right amount of challenge.

Roger yanked backward, jangling chains and sloshing beer. “That was unexpected.”

She shrugged. “I figured we’d get it out of the way first, considering we’re tied to each other for the night. We’ll have to rub many more body parts together if we want to win.”

Roger’s jaw dropped. With false bravado, Caroline strolled forth into the group of people, forcing him to lurch after her. A warm tingle started to rise from the depths of her insides. There was something oddly enjoyable about having the power to make someone follow—and more. She supposed if she itched her nose, his hand would also touch her face. Should she test the theory?

Why not? She lifted her hand, but instead of itching her nose, she pushed her hair back from her face. Oomph.

The rope was longer than thought. His hand connected just below her collarbone. A few more inches and he’d have copped a feel.

He coughed. “You planning to warn me next time you do that, or just slap me after?”

Caroline gave him an innocent blink of her eyes. “You mean I get to choose?”

He lifted the chain. “You’re in charge, gorgeous.”

“I like the sound of that. So what’re the rules of this giant hamster cage? Do we just have to make it through to the end while staying tied up? Or is there more?” From the ground, the challenge appeared bearable, but her cynical nature knew there had to be a catch.

Roger shrugged. “No idea. Let’s ask.”

The giant hamster cage was a rented jungle gym that one of Roger’s frat brothers had found. The beginning of the obstacle course had rope ladders resembling a ship’s net. There were tubes above where Roger and Caroline could vaguely see people flopping and sliding around within, but it was clouded with age.

A hand shot out and slithered down the inside of the tube near the end. Wait. That wasn’t age-induced clouding—it was oil. Holy hot-mamma-mud-wrestling, they were expected to oil up and slither through the entire thing.
Gulp.
Roger’s face burned so hot that he figured it had to be worse than a hot flash. He shot a glance at Caroline as she focused on the contraption. Based on the way her eyes had narrowed, she also registered the lubrication involved. He expected her to be in full panic mode, ready to cut and run.

Roger swallowed the mass of saliva in his throat. “You know, I’m really hungry. Why don’t we skip this and go have a pizza and some beer? We could ...”

But he trailed off because her eyes danced back and forth with ... excitement. How could she be so unshaken? Caroline wrapped her shackled arm around his neck and pulled him close until her nose was nearly touching his. She jutted her chin seductively and batted her eyelashes. He focused on the way the golden flecks in her pupils sparkled. Challenge lay in their depths. Her words fanned his face with bravado. “I believe you’re chickening out. Or maybe you’re afraid I will cave? Come on, Mr. Big Talk, let’s do this.”

The couple in front of them was doused with canola and pushed toward the ropes. They swiped shiny lather from their eyes and reached up with shackled hands.

Roger’s arm yanked skyward without his volition as Caroline closed eyes, her head raised and mouth shut, and flung her arms out as if she was about to be nailed to a cross. With that pose, it was easy to admire the shape of her neck and the curve of her breasts beneath her shirt, a red, slinky top with short sleeves. In a couple seconds it would be—

Splash.
Ruined.

Roger spit the oil from his mouth. He smelled like a greasy peanut. “Hey, a little warning would have been nice.” He rolled his fists over both eyes until it felt safe to open them.

Caroline was attempting the same, which made it easy to take another quick glance at her figure through the wet fabric. With her fingers dripping goo, she blinked three times—her lashes thick with a greasy sheen. She choked out a laugh. “Okay, let’s go, Slick. Pun intended.” She reached for the rope ladder and his arm jolted after her; Roger had no choice but to climb.

Oil rolled down the inside of his shirt and into the crack of his briefs.
Oh, that feels great.

Caroline pushed up the ladder with relative ease, considering their feet slipped on most of the rope rungs the first try. He’d better book it if he didn’t want to pull them both down. Three rungs up, he glanced below to see a shiny puddle on the ground. Hmmm. If they happened to miss a rung and slide down, he could probably break the fall—but she’d likely slither off him like syrup rolling over a pancake. “You know, this would have been much more fun if they’d used something tasty…like syrup.”

Caroline’s foot slipped but she caught herself. “And get swarmed by bees or flies? No thank you.”

“Watch it Caro—as in Karo syrup.”

“Har. Har.”

He shoved up beside her to the top of the rope ladder and watched her as she rolled onto the platform above. Her clothes clung to her like cellophane, leaving nothing to the imagination. Caroline had a nice frame—small, thin, and waif-like. Unlike him. He settled beside her and pointed at the tube beyond. “There’s no way we’ll fit in there together, no matter how well we’re greased up. So who goes first?”

Caroline ran the back of her free hand over her face in a failed attempt to de-grease herself. “I have a feeling if I go first, you’ll be staring at my ass all night. So, I vote for you.”

He grinned, not because she was right but because he’d already noted the way the polka dots on her bra were visible through the slickened fabric of her shirt. Would the panties match? He shrugged. “So let it be done.”