Tie Me Down Tight (Breaking the Rules)

  This surprise birthday present is one she’ll never forget...

  Actress Angie Stanton is done dating actors. Been there done that and has the “dumped fiancée” T-shirt to prove it. Handsome leading men can’t be trusted. Period. But when a hot cowboy shows up at her twenty-sixth birthday party, she’s all about unwrapping her present and playing with it.

  The last thing Hollywood heavyweight Dylan Brooks wants is to dress up like a cowboy and attend a party for some chick he doesn’t know. But when the sweet girl with the angelic face looks at him like she wants to eat him alive, he pulls out his lasso and ties her down tight.

  When Dylan asks for one week of fun, Angie can’t resist. But she won’t fall again, no matter how tempting he might be. And she’s not the only one with trust issues…

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover the Breaking the Rules series… Hold Me Down Hard

  Slow Ride

  Wild Ride

  Sweet Ride

  If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases… Tell Me You Want Me

  Once Upon a Powerplay

  Best Friends with Benefits

  Taking What’s His

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Cathryn Fox. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

  Edited by Candace Havens

  Cover design by Heather Howland

  Cover art from iStock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-549-9

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition March 2016

  For Crystal Yawn, for always raising her hand when I need help! I appreciate your honesty and all you do for me. Thank you.

  Chapter One

  Tucked into one of the elite private suites at the Westwood Hotel, actress Angie Stanton leaned against the paper-lined table filled with unwrapped presents and considered the handful of men who’d showed up to celebrate her birthday. Most were from the set where she worked. Since she’d sworn off actors, she’d be celebrating the rest of the night in her bed alone. Too bad really, because after listening to her friends talk about kink for the last few weeks, she really could use a little herself.

  She pulled a bobby pin from her hair and popped the pretty pink balloon beside her, startling one of her three very best friends who’d thrown the party for her.

  “What did you do that for?” Eden asked, her long blonde hair swishing over her shoulders as she turned to face Angie.

  Angie grinned, took a sip of her champagne, and tipped the crystal glass toward the man Eden had been watching for the better part of the night. “To snap you out of it.”

  Color moved into Eden’s face as she turned her focus back to Jay Bennett, the hot cop she was having crazy monkey sex with. Angie noted the way her friend’s honey-flecked eyes glazed over with lust as she perused her hottie, and when Jay cast her a sidelong glance, his blue eyes filled with the promise of things to come, Eden shifted restlessly beside her.

  Dammit, she wanted hot monkey sex! While she might not want to go as far as visiting a BDSM dungeon like her other friend Janie had been encouraging her to, she wasn’t opposed to a guy tying her down tight and having his way with her.

  As an entertainment lawyer turned actress on the hit show Devious Woman, Angie might be known as the most levelheaded amongst her three best friends, but after watching both Eden and Janie find love—and hearing about their kinky bedroom antics—it was all she could think about.

  Of course, she wasn’t looking for anything long-term. Not anymore, anyway. The guys from her social circle—handsome leading men like her ex fiancé—were all notorious players who couldn’t be trusted.

  “It’s getting late, and Jay and I are going to take off.” Eden hugged her. “Happy golden birthday.”

  Humph. Some golden birthday this was turning out to be. Turning twenty-six on the twenty-sixth of June was supposed to be a big deal, a time when all her wishes came true.

  “You two have fun,” Angie said as she tried to inject a little enthusiasm into her voice. She was happy for her friend, she really was. She just wanted a little serving of what Eden was having.

  Her friend inched back and winked at her. “Don’t worry. It’s not midnight yet. Still time for good things to happen.”

  Angie shot a glance at the clock and smoothed her hand over her sundress. Had she known she wasn’t going to the movies, and that her friends were going to surprise her with a party, she might have chosen something a little dressier. Really though, the only thing that mattered was that she was celebrating with her best friends, three girls she considered family. Outside of her brother, and a resentful aunt who’d been forced to raise them, she had no one. She shook her head, not wanting to rehash painful memories, and zeroed in on the time.

  At five minutes to eleven, it might as well have been midnight. “Close enough.” She pasted on a smile and, not wanting to be a killjoy, turned her friend toward Jay. “Go, have fun. Tomorrow I want the details so I can live vicariously through you.”

  Eden and Jay took off, and with the crowd gone the only ones left were her and her two other best friends, Janie and Maria, who were cleaning up around her. Angie pushed off the table and reached for her sweater, ready to give her friends a hand and call it a night, when the doors were flung open with a bang.

  What the heck?

  She turned toward the entrance—light spilled in from the hallway, outlining the silhouette of a well built cowboy, one dressed in chaps and a snug T-shirt. Her mouth fell open.

  Well, happy birthday to me.

  She cast her friends a glance, a little bubble of excitement building inside her as they flashed bright, toothy smiles her way. They must have set this up. A little late-night birthday surprise for their bestie. Damned if turning twenty-six wasn’t looking up.

  Speaking of up… Her gaze dropped to the cowboy’s crotch, and the way his orgasm-inspiring chaps hugged it so nicely. Honest to God, she had the best friends ever.

  A cowboy for her birthday.

  Most awesome gift ever—unless, of course, it’s a singing telegram. If he starts spewing lyrics instead of stripping, I might just cry. Unless there are dirty words and spankings involved.

  Mr. Hot Cowboy, whose features were masked by a handkerchief and wide brimmed Stetson, dimmed the lights and moved toward her. Her gaze drifted to the lasso over his shoulder. Oh my. What did he plan to do with that? He grabbed a chair and positioned it behind her. A second later he nudged her shoulder, forcing her to fall into the seat.

  Ooh, how sexy.

  A little whimper of excitement lodged in her throat as he turned his back to her. Oh my God, those chaps, and that ass. The night was just getting bet
ter and better. His tight buns, snug in a pair of jeans, held her focus as he walked toward the back of the room, momentarily getting lost in the shadows. Her body practically vibrated with anticipation as she awaited his return.

  Music drowned out his footfalls as he came back to stand in front of her. Smoldering baby blues locked on hers. His movements were stiff, uncomfortable looking, as he pulled his lasso from his shoulders. Was this his first night on the job?

  “Hey,” she said. She felt compelled to help him out, so she put her hands behind the chair to show him exactly what he could do with that rope. No one could ever accuse her of not being a Good Samaritan.

  His eyes narrowed. He swung the rope around his head in real cowboy fashion. Damned if this guy wasn’t as far removed from an actor as one could get. How perfect. He released the rope, and it captured her around the waist then he pulled it tight to secure her to the chair, but not so much that it hurt. Big hands brushed against her stomach and shoulders as he tightened the rope, enough to keep her restrained, but not too constrictive that she couldn’t squeeze out of it if she wanted. Which she didn’t. It felt too naughty, too delicious being constrained like this.

  Raunchy music blared from the speakers in the room, and without saying a word to her, he pulled off his T-shirt and began shaking what his mama gave him. Thank you, Mama. She stared. Maybe even drooled a little. Moisture broke out on her body, and her breathing changed, grew a little heavier as she took in his hard physique. She might not be able to see his face, but what the hell. Faces were overrated, anyway. Plus, this way he could be whoever she wanted him to be, right?

  Her glance traveled the long delicious length of him, a slow, careful perusal. Lord knew she didn’t want to miss an inch because by the looks of things he had an awful lot of inches. Her gaze stopped just below the belt loops on his jeans. The guy was six feet of hard muscle and sex appeal. She wiggled her hands, itching to touch him, but guessed groping the talent wasn’t part of the package her friends had purchased.

  Then again…what would it take to get him to change the terms? Wait, would that be paying for sex? Because that would be wrong. Maybe she could ask him out for coffee tomorrow, see where things led. He put his hands over his head and moved his hips.

  “Ride ’em, cowboy,” she murmured under her breath, the rich, manly scent of cologne reaching her nostrils.

  She couldn’t believe her besties had set this up. She cast a quick glance toward her friends again and caught them sneaking out the door, leaving her all alone with the hot stripper. Holy hell. Why would they leave her when she was tied to a chair with a half naked hot cowboy? Unless, of course, they expected the two of them to hook up. And why would they expect any different? She was writhing on the chair like she had Mexican jumping beans in her pants.

  He circled her, dragging her focus to him with each move, and when their gazes clashed, a wave of sexual energy hit like a bolt of lightning. Never had she felt anything so powerful, volatile…explosive. Her nipples tightened with arousal and his eyes dropped. What would his mouth feel like on her skin?

  A low growl lodged deep in his throat, a telltale sign he could see exactly what he was doing to her. His gaze slid lower, skating over her body and settling between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, working to relieve the tension building deep in her core. A myriad of sinful thoughts raced through her mind, and there was nothing she could do to stifle the moan fluttering past her lips.

  Her cowboy went as still as a stealth soldier, looking his fill, then scrubbed a hand over his handkerchief. God, the hungry way he was looking at her was downright suggestive—perfectly corrupt—and she liked it. She liked it a lot. Was this something he did with all the girls he danced for, or was there more going on between them?

  She didn’t care.

  Excited by the prospect, her blood pulsed hot, nearly derailing her ability to think straight. He moved his hips, gyrating to the beat of the music. Cripes, Magic Mike had nothing on this guy. She looked her fill and shifted urgently on her chair. He turned and bent forward, presenting her with an obstructed view of his perfect ass, a fantasy-inspiring ass that dreams were made of. At least hers were. Her fingers tingled, anxious to touch, and there was nothing she could do to stifle the groan that crawled out of her throat.

  He stilled and she froze. She bit her tongue, resisting the urge to scream “keep going.” He continued to stand there, his strong back rigid. Either his time was up, or her moan of pleasure had caught him off guard. Surely to God he was used to women moaning in his presence.

  With the restless ache between her legs urging her on, she whispered, “How about an encore?”

  The muscles on his back rippled as he drew a breath and let it out slowly. He turned to face her. The interest in his stare teased the hungry spot between her legs. There was a new intensity about him, a shift of sorts. She felt it all the way to her core. What was going on inside that head of his?

  Moving with a great deal of grace for a man his size, he stepped behind her, his hands inches from her shoulders. His heat seeped into her skin as he shaped her body, angling around her breast but never touching. His hands slid downward, then back up, a light, barely there brush against the outer edges of her breast. Whoa. Had he meant to do that? Were his thoughts traveling in the same direction? Her body hummed for attention, her flesh suffusing with heat.

  “Where you from?” she asked, wanting to hear his voice. She’d just bet it was as sexy as his moves.

  He slowly moved in front of her. Big hands pressed down on the arms of her chair, and he leaned into her, his mouth close. “Texas,” he said, his warm breath filtering through the cloth and scorching her cheeks. What would it feel like on her naked flesh?

  Even though his voice was muffled, she caught the slow Texas drawl that curled her toes. Was he faking it, or was he from her home state? She angled her head and eyed him. There was something very familiar about him. Did she know him?

  She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip and didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to her mouth. “How nice of you to come all the way to New York for my party.”

  Normally she didn’t come on strong with men, but everything about the way this guy moved, the way he looked at her, made her feel adventurous. Daring. Made her want to do something taboo, like unwrap her birthday present and play with it for the rest of the night. Heck, why shouldn’t she go for it? She was due a little wildness once in her life, wasn’t she? And he seemed to be into this as much as she was.

  She considered it a moment longer. They were both consenting adults, knew the score. One night of fun with a cowboy, and not a thing more. Dear God, now she was rhyming. She must be more excited than she realized.

  Wanting to see where this led—and heck he could stop her at any time—she wiggled one hand free, and when he was close enough, she splayed her fingers over his rock-hard stomach, a vicious little tease. Thick muscles rippled behind her palm, and she was sure she heard him curse under his breath.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, putting on her best innocent face as she blinked up at him, “Is touching not allowed?”

  A curse was chased by a groan. “Something like that,” he answered, his voice lacking conviction.

  Despite his feeble protest, she kept her hand on his stomach and let it slide lower, until it was near the top of his leather chaps. There was a part of her that couldn’t believe her boldness, yet there was another part that told that virtuous side to shut the hell up.

  “Should I stop?”

  His hand closed over hers, his gaze latched on her mouth. Beneath the stormy blue he seemed to be waging some kind of war with himself. She could feel his desire, his need. It matched her own.

  “So, I’ve never done this before, but you see, I have this extreme need to touch your abs.” When he didn’t say anything she crinkled her nose. “Sorry. You’re probably objectified all the time in your, um, line of work.” She went to pull her hand away but he stopped her.

 
“Normally I don’t do this sort of thing,” he said. “But if you want to touch, you can.”

  Oh my.

  He let her hand go. She trailed it lower, and he let out a tortured moan when she closed it over the bulge his chaps did little to hide. Oh yeah, he was into this as much as she was. He grew thicker beneath her touch and a thrill raced through her.

  She rounded one shoulder until the strap on her dress slipped down her arm. His gaze darted to her bare shoulder, then dipped lower to take in the black demi bra she’d just exposed. Now that she had his attention, she leaned forward a bit, to give him a better view of her cleavage.

  “My hands are a little…tied up,” she whispered, sexual tension arcing between them as her body beckoned his touch. “Perhaps you could give me a hand with my strap.”

  He adjusted his Stetson lower over his forehead and reached for the strap dangling near her elbow. Warm fingers brushed over her arm, then skimmed the outer swell of her breast as he slid the flimsy strap back in place. His cock thickened beneath her palm and if her hands weren’t so preoccupied she’d pinch herself to see if this was really happening…although she’d rather pinch him, right on that lovely tight ass she couldn’t wait to see bare.

  The music changed, the song a bit slower, less raunchy. He stopped moving with the change in tempo. “Is my time up?” she asked, damned if she was going to let him ride out of there and into the sunset.

  “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice pinging around inside her head. Why did he sound so familiar?

  She pulled her hand back from his body and placed it on her upper thighs, slowly inching her cotton dress up. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you could show me some rope tying tricks with that lasso. Unless, of course, you’re not a real cowboy.”

  A beat passed, and then his hand went to her chin. He cupped it and angled her face until she was staring directly at him. His gaze moved over hers, and she could almost feel another shift in him. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over her cheek, a slow sweeping motion she felt all the way to her sex.