I show them to Felix, and he says, “Ohhh…”
I toss him the cuffs, and he catches them. “I need you to cuff me to the headboard.”
My arms rip off my clothing, tossing the tank on the ground before kicking off my boots and pulling off my jeans. I don’t think I’ve ever been less sexy getting naked, but I’m just so eager to get cuffed to the bars and see if this works.
I hop on the bed and grip the wrought iron bedframe, which looks like something you’d see inOne Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
Fitting.
Felix connects one to the headboard, then wraps it around my wrist, and the worst thing ever happens.
I whimper.
“Torren. Are you okay?”
I fall into the green of his eyes, and the memories that make this so hard slowly vanish. “I’m okay. This works.”
“We don’t have to do this. We don’t even have to have s—”
“Please. I want this. I want you. So much it fucking hurts, Felix. I’ll be okay.”
Felix looks at me warily for a moment, clearly not convinced that I’m alright. “I promise, I’m okay. I’ll let you know if this is too much.”
“Promise?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I take a breath and add, “Cuff me.”
The right cuff locks followed by the left. I yank on them, testing the strength of both the cuffs and the headboard, and hum with satisfaction.
“We’re good,” I say with relief.
His lips curl into an impish smile. Felix’s hand caresses my face before asking, “What would you like me to do first, sir?”
Oh, fuck, the sir does everything for me.
Felix looks like sex served on a platter in his outfit, but all I’ve wanted to do all night is rip it off his body. “Strip for me.I’ve got records over there.” I motion my head to the far side of the room. “I want to see you put on a show for me.”
His giggle lights a fire inside me, and he struts over to the turntable, shaking his ass on the way.
He flips through the records and finds one that satisfies him and places it on the player.
If I weren’t already lying down, I would have fallen over.Behind the WheelbyDepeche Modeflows from the speakers. How Felix knows about this song is beyond me, but I’m starting to understand that underestimating him will render me a fool every time.
“This okay, stud?” He asks, and all I can do is nod. Felix rises and slinks to the wall, pressing both hands against it with his legs spread, like he’s about to be searched by the cops.
He looks over his shoulder at me and winks.
Here lies Torren Kay. Slain by Felix Hargrove’s ass in leather booty shorts.
Felix swivels his hips to the beat of the music as he slides his mesh top over his head and tosses it to the floor.
“We need better lighting than this.” Felix turns off the overhead light in exchange for a desk lamp with a warmer glow that complements his light skin perfectly.
He moves to the center of the room, turns around, and slowly slides his shorts down his long legs, bending over while he does it to give me a perfect view of his ass.
He’s wearing a black thong under those fucking fishnets.
Cuffs, don’t fail me now.
