“You’re a shit teacher.”
That makes my lips fall into a frown. “Now, that’s not nice.”
“What’s not nice is putting yourself in my trunk and then walking in here like you have nothing better to do. That’s not how this is supposed to go, you know? You’re supposed to fight harder.”
My lips twitch. Oh, if my butterfly wants me to get a little rough with him, I have no issues with that. “And you know how it’ssupposedto go? Forgive me. I didn’t realize I was dealing with such an expert kidnapper.”
That’s the moment the knot around my wrists decides to give up the ghost. The shirt falls to the floor, leaving me unrestrained.
He swivels his head to stare at it, his teeth sinking into his lip. Poor guy looks nervous again. Maybe I won’t take this moment to point out the obvious.
That he has no idea what he’s doing.
I think that would just upset him even more.
When Ansel moves his gaze back to me, I put my arms behind my back again. I’m sitting docile, like the good little victim I can be. It’s funny—my brothers often joke that I’d be the worst of us to kidnap.
Turns out, that fully depends on who the kidnapper happens to be.
“Force me, then,” I tell Ansel. “Make me stay here in this chair. Tie me up.”
My words don’t comfort him. The opposite, in fact. His nostrils flare as he stomps behind me. He rummages in something I can’t see and then wrenches my arms back a little too roughly. It is indeed a rope that he’s tying this time. It scratches over my skin, making me groan.
That only makes him rougher.
Oh yes. I like how feisty he is. How angry. I want him to slap me around a little, make me bleed. Just a bit—a few little kitty scratches down my back as I pound into that tight little ass.
“There.”
I say nothing, not wanting to upset him. So I sit still, like a statue. Like a motherfucking Michaelangelo sculpture. Bigger dick than that dude, but still.
Fucking statuesque.
When he rounds me once more, he just stares. I give it right back. Not even blinking. I’ll win this game.
I always win. Unless it’s more fun to lose.
Ansel’s nose wrinkles. “Stop looking at me like that.”
I say nothing, just continue to stare. My eyes are starting to burn, but still, I don’t move. My eyelids twitch, but they don’t fully close. They’re just set on him, on winning this little…whatever this is.
Tryst, my mind shouts.
A date tryst. Second date, perhaps? If I count it in locations, then maybe.
“Stop staring at me.”
Oh, he’s getting angry again.
I smile. “You said not to fight too hard.”
“No, I didn’t.You’re insane. I said nothing of the sort. I said I want you to fight a little harder. This isn’t a kidnapping, this is a…” He thrusts his hands through his hair. “This is you walking into this cabin like you’ve been here before…like this is no big deal. So I want you to fight me. To make it feel even.”
“Oh, my sweet little butterfly,” I begin, and he folds his arms across his chest. “If I do that, you know I’ll win.”
“You don’t know that.”
My tongue flicks out over my lip as I think of all the ways we couldfight.“But I do.”
