Page 64 of Plaything

One of her eyebrows lifted up slightly in a silent judgment. Had I been missing out on something I wasn’t aware of? “Okay, we can fix that later. But for now, just make a Y,” she laughed.

I was unsure of what she meant by fix. Nothing was broken; I had no desire to flail my arms around like a fool. But if she really wanted me to, I’d humor her. I laid down and placed my arms above my head. “Do you like to dance?” I questioned.

There was little that I actually knew about her. I knew she was beautiful, intelligent, a gifted athlete, and had immense Daddy issues. Niko had bonded over food. She was playing Aiden’s psychology games and beating him. And she got along with Wyatt like they’d known each other for years. I had nothing in comparison. Maybe, just maybe, I could figure something out about her that mattered—like unlocking a passion for dance.

She worked carefully as she tied my wrists to the post on the bed. Too carefully, but I wouldn’t correct her horrible execution. I was quite gifted in Shibari; I’d been practicing for years. She shook her head, her mind clearly focused on her sloppy work. “No... I’m too clumsy for that,” she murmured.

Damn.

“Tell me something you do like,” I pushed.

Her gaze shifted to meet my eyes. She leaned her weight on one leg. “Hmm,” she thought. “Breakfast at four in the morning,” she answered before quickly moving to the other side of the bed.

Was there a place nearby for breakfast with a koi pond? She said she liked those. No, that wasn’t good enough. “Why?”

She began tying my other wrist with the flimsy piece of silk. Again, it was too loose, and the knot wasn’t tight enough to hold me. If I put any pressure on it, it’d break, and I’d be free. She was trying to be gentle, which was adorable.

When I first met her, my initial response (besides disliking her for being a student in general) was, ‘This girl wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ I thought that for many days. But after she slowly began opening up, I realized that wasn’t true.

She’d kill a fly. Then she’d give it a funeral and be plagued with guilt.

She was sweet and gentle, but it was in her genes to look out for herself. She clearly didn’t have anyone but those stuffed bears she always whispered to. She needed to be her own parent, friend, and caregiver. It was entirely possible the only love she got was from herself.

She would kill flies.

She shrugged, “It’s a peaceful time of day. No one else is awake yet. And if I’m going to be up at four in the morning anyways, there better be breakfast,” she explained.

She mentioned she had trouble sleeping and seemed to find peace in solitude. “Is that what you do when you can’t sleep?”

Odette gave the silk one last tug, “Sometimes. Although, most diners that are open twenty-four hours a day aren’t the safest places.” Her smile reached her eyes as she gestured to my bound wrists. “Ta-da! My gift to myself, all wrapped with a bow on top,” she joked.

I took note of the elegant bow she somehow made by my wrists. She made a bow but didn’t realize it was loose enough for my hands to slide through. Or that the knot was single, and I could pull one string and untie it with my fingers.

This just proved my point further; she had no idea what she was doing. It was so fucking cute, and I appreciated her trying.

With a plan set to take her out for an early breakfast, I nodded in approval at the bow. “Yes, you did an excellent job,” I complimented the bow, not the restraint.

Again, I chose my words carefully, hoping she’d have a reaction to the praise.

Just as I’d hoped, she looked smug, gently standing on her toes for a moment before she smiled.

Praise kink.

“You’ve tied me up,” I deadpanned. “Now, what will you do?” I pushed, hoping to earn another blush.

Poor Baby, trying so hard to stall. Her attempts would work on Niko, but I wasn’t as kind.

Odette pressed her lips together and widened her eyes, “For starters, you have to stop staring at me,” she rushed out.

Her request caught me off guard. “What?”

It was then that her nervousness became apparent. She was fidgeting with her hands again and struggling to meet my eyes. Now that our conversations were over and it was actually time for her to make a move, she froze.

She stood to the left of my bed, “I can’t do anything if you keep staring at me,” she admitted.

I fought a smile. “Do you expect me not to look at you?” I’d never heard such a ridiculous request. Obviously, I was going to see her naked at some point—probably shortly. Again, if I were Niko or maybe even Wyatt (depending on his mood), she’d get away with this. But she got stuck with me.

“I’m going to look at you,” I deadpanned. “With your clothes on or off, bare or clothed, I will look at you. Confident or nervous, you have all my attention. There is no room for shyness here, as adorable as it might be.”

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