I’m going to kill you
Roman
You’re going to beg me. There’s a difference.
I want to throw my phone. Want to march to his seat and?—
My phone buzzes again.
Roman
How wet are you right now?
I actually look around the plane to make sure no one’s reading over my shoulder.
That’s not fair
Roman
Answer me
Very
Roman
Good. Stay that way. I want you dripping by the time we get home tomorrow.
ROMAN
Roman
Marnie. One more night. Then I’m going to take you apart so completely you’ll forget every other man who’s ever touched you. I’m going to make you come so many times you lose count. But first you’re going to learn what it feels like to be on the edge for so long you’d do anything—beg, cry, whatever it takes—just to fall.
I can’t breathe. The plane is too hot. My jeans are too tight. Everything is too much.
Roman
Put your book away
Why?
Roman
Because I can see you from here and if you keep squirming in your seat I’m going to come back there and make it worse
I slam the book shut.
Roman
Good girl
The gamethat night is brutal—physical, chippy, Roman taking hits that make me flinch. But every time he gets up, every time he skates back to the bench, his eyes find mine.
Checking. Making sure I’m watching. Making sure I see exactly how controlled he is while I’m falling apart.
After the game I corner him in the medical room because he’sfavoring his shoulder and I’m still the head PT even if I want to strangle him.
“Shoulder. Now.”
