Page 36 of Enforcer's Obsession

She seemed almost worried now, and I wanted to calm her.

Knew that I could do no such thing, so I instead shook my head.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

She didn’t exactly look relieved, but I gathered the trash, keeping myself from telling her that she had made no mess at all.

Disposed of the trash and then came back and found her sitting in the exact same place I have left her.

Felt that kick in my chest at how right she looked there.

No other woman had ever seen this bed, let alone sat on it. When I needed release, I went to a hotel, or, on occasion, to the woman’s place.

But she looked perfect here, so perfect that it almost made me want to throw her out.

Thiswas exactly the shit I wanted to avoid.

Thinking about how perfect she looked in my bed instead of how I was going to rid myself of the problem that she was quickly becoming.

I needed to get my shit together.

Trouble was clearly bad for my equilibrium, and that was something I couldn’t tolerate.

To make no mention of that stunt she had pulled earlier.

She might be being docile, nice, but I couldn’t trust that, just as I apparently, couldn’t trust myself.

“You need to go to the bathroom?” I asked.

She shook her head, her eyes wide. The fear, which it been there the entire time was back in the full force.

Which was good as far as I was concerned.

Maybe if she were terrified it wouldn’t be so easy for me to forget what this was—and what I knew I would eventually have to do.

“Lie down,” I said.

She did as I said, though she trembled.

“Give me your arm,” I said, circling the bed to stand beside her.

She reached out, her nerves palpable.

I took her arm, trying to ignore the reaction to touching her, and in four quick moves, had one wrist tied to the bedpost.

Did the same with her ankle, and then tied the other hand to the top of the bedpost.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked.

She was indignant, and terrified.

I smirked. “You should have thought of that before you tried to shoot me.”

“Oh? That,” she said.

I can help myself from smiling.

“Yes, that. You can’t be trusted. You should have enough slack to move around and keep the blood flowing, but I don’t have to worry about waking up with you standing over me, or better yet, not waking up at all,” I said.

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