At his words, I instinctively yanked my arms against the restraint. My bound arms barely moved an inch, the restraint seemed to be attached to something.
“Sir-” anothermanstarted saying, uneasily.
“She’s not going anywhere.Get out.”
Sebastian stepped towards the man and hurried footsteps smacked against the sturdy wood floor.
When the sound of the door closing echoed through the house,Sebastianmovedaway from me. I strained my neck so Icouldview behind me. He walked towards an open kitchen with a large marble island encircled by whitebarstools.
“Disappointed they're gone?” he asked.
“Why would I be?”
Sebastian pulled open a light wood cabinet. “Because you love being humiliated in front of a crowd.”
“Yeah right.”
“If you say so,” he said with a pointed stare at the white cushion. I couldn’t even come up with a comeback for that as he set a bottle of Cointreau and vodka on the white marble counter.
“You likecosmos right?”he asked.
Why was he asking me about my drink preferences?
“Whereare you planning on putting that vodka?” I asked, tryingtoforce my legs closed.No luck.
He opened another cabinet and pulled out a cocktail jigger and shaker. Another smirkand glance at my crotch. My nipples tightened.
“Into a cup.I’m making you a drink,” he said.
I blinked, almost disappointed. He opened up an oversizedSub-Zero refrigerator. My mouth watered when I spotted a plastic tub of raviolis. I hadn’t eaten since the homeless shelter. Well, technically since thecandy I gobbled down during last night’sboard games.
“Are you hungry?” he asked while pulling out bottles of lime juice and cranberry juice.
“No,” I lied.
He shook his head and opened the freezer. He dumped ice into the cocktail shaker then began pouring the vodka into the metal jigger.
“What are you planning to do to me?” I asked.
“I thought it was pretty obvious: I’m making you a drink.” He picked up the jigger and poured the measured vodka into the cocktail shaker. I stared down at the cuffs holding my thighs and ankles in place.
Hepoured another jigger full of liquid into the shaker.“They are better than the ropes, right? No matter how much you pull against them, you won’t further exacerbateyourinjuries,”Sebastian said.
“That’s one way of putting it,” I said.
“Something tells me you wouldn’t mind if I kept you tied up the entire night.”
“You’re delusional,” Igrowledback. But the growing heat on my cheeks likely diminished the effect.
He laughed, thenturned on the filtered water. Once he was done pouring it into a glass, he approached me with both drinks in his hand. He set the water a few inches in front of me. As for the cosmo, he set it in the middle of the table. It was completely out of my reach even ifmy hands hadn’t been tied.
“How do you expect me to drinklike this?” I asked.
A smirk grew on his face.
“I wouldn’t mind watching youattemptto sip your water while your arms are restrained.” His eyes became half lidded as he drunk in the image.“Unable to use yourhands to pickup the cup. Forced to wrap your sweet little lips around the cup, and swallow everything.”
“You’re such a pervert,” I said.
