“I’m trying, but I’m a little unprepared.”
“There’s condoms in the bathroom,” he grunted.
“Good.” I closed the knife and tossed it onto the pillow. “Go get them and some lube.”
Golden climbed off the bed, the wet spot from his orgasm showing though the thin cotton of his briefs.
“And my fucking guns,” I added when he reached the door.
“Not likely.”
“If you know what’s good for you, Golden, you’ll bring me back my fucking guns.”
“Gun,” he said, disappearing into the hallway.
I sat up on the edge of the bed and waited for him to return. Barely a minute passed and Golden was back, tossing a bottle of lube and a condom on the bed beside my thigh. I gave him an expectant look, and he tossed an empty mag and gun on top of the condom.
“No ammo?” I asked, picking everything up and sliding the gun back together.
“I’m not a fool.”
I racked the slide and confirmed he’d taken everything, then tossed the gun onto the nightstand. I’d deal with that later. I looked around the room, displeased at the lack of tools available to cause Golden the pain we both wanted him to have.
“Pick up my sweats.” I pointed to the middle of the floor where I’d discarded my borrowed clothes.
“They’re mine,” he snapped, bending over and picking them up.
“Do you want me to take this knife out again, Golden?” I collected his knife and the condom and lube, then shoved him hard against his chest.
“Where are we going?”
“Laundry,” I said. “You need to learn how to properly cater to a houseguest.”
Golden shuffled down the hall, his pants around his thighs. When we reached the laundry room, he opened the door and I pushed him inside. He landed chest first against the dryer and I held him there, flipping the lid on the washer up.
“Put them in,” I said.
With a grunt, he dropped the sweats into the basin.
“And yours now.”
Golden shoved out of his pants and his briefs, throwing them into the washer on top of the sweatpants.
“Go on then.”
The laundry room was small, smaller than a bathroom, so the space was tight. Even as I leaned against the wall in wait, our bodies brushed against each other as he dealt with the detergent. I scanned the room, his neatly organized wire racks of folded towels and a packed away ironing board, then my stare landed on exactly what I’d been hoping to find.
The sound of rushing water filled the room and Golden turned back toward me, an unamused look on his face.
“Now what?” he asked with a tired sigh. “Shouldn’t you be worried about whoever wants you dead?”
I pulled the mesh bag of clothespins off the wire rack and fished two out, holding them in my palm between us. He knew what I wanted without asking. He took the pins, holding one in each hand, his expression changing from uninterested to cautiously aroused.
I guided his hands to his own nipples, plucking the brown buds of skin between my fingers until they hardened, and gestured for him to do the honors. Eyes closed, Golden attached one clothespin to each nipple, sucking in a sharp breath before settling again.
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” I told him. “I want to make sure he knows what he has to lose if I’m gone.”
Chapter Eleven
