But what if he is rough and takes it out of the fantasy and?—
I force myself to breathe.
Alex gave me a safe word. He reminded me of it tonight, and he has also been good about giving me the space to think about it.
Yesterday morning, I texted and said I'm in.
He told me he would give me until Monday.
That is not pushy.
That is the epitome of giving me space, giving me achance to back out of it. And that chance, through the safe word, is there the whole time.
"Blue banana," I whisper. "Blue banana."
And it is all I need to ground me, to convince me I made the right decision.
Time stretches as I sit, heaviness weighing me down the longer I sit in the dark in one position.
It tires me, and I slowly let myself relax as much as I can.
It is like waiting for Santa as a kid.
But I don't want Santa. I'm no kid. And what I want are orgasms.
And still, he doesn't turn up.
The exhaustion of waiting gets to me, and I scramble up the bed, keeping my shoes on, and I lie down.
I will hear him come in. I will hear my phone.
My eyes are still shut when I hit the pillow, and sleep soon overtakes me.
The last thing I remember is Enzo looking at me from my mind.
I gasp as I jerk awake, eyes open to blackness and something pressed there.
Am I blindfolded?
I go to move my hands, but I can't. They are tied to the bed, above my head.
My heart slams hard, threatening to shatter ribs.
I'm not alone.
Not just tied up, but someone is in here.
Adrenaline surges through me as I thrash about and, gasping, I push out, "Alex?"
No answer, but the bed presses down, and a hand trails up my leg.
"A-Alex?"
A mouth pushes against my ear, soft and warm, and he finally speaks. Not speaks, as in with an actual full voice, but whispers gutturally, the kind of whisper I would never be able to pin to someone through speaking to them.
"Quiet, Lola. Remember your safe word?"
"Y-yes?"
