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God, just when I think this man can’t get any hotter, he has to go and up the ante. Prove just how low the bar for men is, just how little I’ve chosen to accept.

Well, not anymore.

I’m done pretending to be something I’m not. Done being fake and making myself small so I don’t make men uncomfortable. I’m done playing nice and not standing up for myself. And I’m done not asking for what I want.

Starting now.

My sledgehammer slips through my fingers and hits the ground with a clang. Roman pauses mid-swing and looks back at me, his gaze dark.

For a moment we stand there, staring at each other as our bodies seem to communicate in an unspoken language neither of us fully understands.

Then, he drops his bat and saunters over, grabbing my hand and yanking me toward the door.

When we arrive back at Roman’s place, Tilly greets us at the door, her stumpy tail wagging.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, Tills,” Roman says as he makes a beeline straight to the kitchen and, in record-breaking time, whips her up a plate smeared with peanut butter and baby carrots.

He returns with her bribe, which seems to appease her, then scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Hey,” I shriek, “I’m perfectly capable of walking, you know…”

“Yeah, but where’d the fun be in that?” He rounds the corner but passes the staircase, making a sharp turn down another hallway instead.

We enter what appears to be his library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves overflowing with books span across each wall, and there’s a loveseat and two armchairs set in the center. Several leafy green plants are scattered throughout the room, giving the library a homey, lived-in feel, and a large skylight illuminates the room with golden streaks of sunlight.

I perk up, looking around when he pauses in front of a bookshelf on the far wall. “Okay, I knew you were into some kinky shit, but I wasn’t expecting a library.”

He pulls a book by the spine, and the shelf pops open, revealing a hidden door. And without another word, we step into a dark room. Roman sets me down, closing the door behind him just as red accent lights flicker to life, and I finally see what he’s hiding behind that secret door.

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head as I take it all in. Some kind of large hook-like contraption is fixed on the ceiling in the center of the room. Shelves lined with whips, floggers, and an assortment of other leather implements cover the walls, alongside hooks holding every kind of rope imaginable. A large bed sits catty-corner in the room, looking almost like an afterthought, with a stripper pole positioned across from it.

“Okay. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting all of this.” I say, turning to find Roman smirking, like he’s enjoying seeing me so caught off guard.

“Is that judgment I’m sensing in your tone?” He does something on his phone, and soft music plays overhead.

I sense his heat before he even reaches me, then he swipes my hair over one shoulder. I suck in a sharp breath as his warm breath ghosts across my neck, goosebumps erupting over my skin.

He drags his nose along my neck and sucks in a deep breath. “Are you afraid?”

All the adrenaline I was feeling from the rage room bubbles back to the surface, mixing with excitement from not knowing what happens next.

“No.” I shake my head, my body buzzing with a heightened sense of awareness. Like an animal being hunted, I feel every one of my senses kick into overdrive.

He trails a knuckle over my jaw, and I hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Maybe you should be.”

My gaze snaps to his, catching the unmistakable glint of mischief in his hungry eyes. He looks like he wants to devour me whole. And as terrifying as it seems, a spark of curiosity flares in my chest. I did say I wanted excitement, didn’t I?

Meeting his stare, I lift my brow in challenge. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

The smile that breaks across his lips tells me he was hoping that’s what I’d say.

As if thinking, he clicks his tongue, then cocks his head to the center of the room. “Do you trust me?”

I follow his gaze to the intimidating metal hook hanging from the ceiling as I start piecing things together. “I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.”

I’m not sure what he has in mind, but I have a strong feeling it involves tying me up with ropes…and perhaps even suspending me from that scary hook.

But I meant what I said. I do trust him. I know Roman would never put me in danger. Unlike Augustus, who threw words and promises around like confetti, Roman doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. He’s too meticulous, too careful.