She stays quiet, studying the rope. I can hear a clock clicking somewhere in the room. Probably the old-fashioned–looking one on her nightstand next to a pile of books. I examine them more closely and find they’re all romance novels.
Figures.
She still hesitates, a war in her eyes, logic battling with raw, undeniable need. I soften. Just slightly. My fingers brush up her bare arm, barely a whisper of a touch. Goosebumps rise on her delicate skin.
Another minute of tense silence. Then, finally, she squares her shoulders. “What were you saying about a word?”
“A safe word. Pick the first one that pops into your mind.”
“Cupcake,” she blurts out immediately.
I laugh, a loud sound that bursts out of me, surprising us both. It’s my first real laugh in—hell, I don’t know how long.
Jessica grins at my reaction.
“Cupcake?” I wheeze, smiling. “You can’t pick cupcake.”
Her hands go to her hips and her lower lip juts out into a defiant pout, making me want to bite it. “Why not?”
“Well…because it’s…” I flounder. “I mean, cupcake? Really?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and sends me a glare.
“I—oh, damnit.” I take in her narrowed eyes and give in. “Fine, cupcake. That’s the safe word.”
“Good.” Jessica swallows hard, but when she meets my gaze again, there’s no fear. Only anticipation.
She hands back the rope, fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment.
I pause and stare down at the coil, feeling the weight in my hands. The weight of my choices.
Both equally heavy.
My thumb drags over the rope’s fibers, rubbing them against my fingertips. My mind is already calculating where I’ll tie each knot, where I’ll wrap her wrists, how she’ll look beneath me, stretched and bound. I push the thought away and inhale deeply, forcing my muscles to stay loose.
When I look back at her, the playfulness from before is gone. Jessica watches me carefully, breath slower now.
Something tightens in my chest. Maybe the last shred of my morality or maybe the ghost of a conscience I thought I buried long ago.
I step in and close the distance, then bend forward until my palms hit the mattress on each side of her hips. We’re face to face now, closer than ever before. Her breath is a warm caress, ghosting across my cheek.
She stills. Green eyes wide, lips slightly parted.
“Tell me to stop.” I say urgently, my voice low and husky. “Tell me no.”
It’s more of a plea than a command.
I know what comes next. She doesn’t.
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
Onesecond.
Two.
I wait for her to take the deal, reject me, but instead, resolve hardens behind those beautiful eyes. They blaze with a stubborn, reckless trust.
Like she’s challengingme. Jessica deliberately lifts her wrists, pressing them together like an offering. A silent surrender.
