Page 32 of Holiday Power Play

"I… can't remember," I lie.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, it was adequate."

He turns to look at me. "Adequate—sounds like the epitome of romance. I guess we can assume"freak"isn't included in your bio either."

I scoff, "It wasn't for lack of trying."

He pushes another box around and then turns to watch me.

"Oh yeah? What's the freakiest thing you've done, little grinch?"

I know what he's doing. He's baiting me. "I'm not about to tell you that."

Leaning on a stack of boxes, he slides his hands into his pocket.

“Because you’re scared I’ll like what I hear?”

My eyes flick to his. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that his presence does something to me.

I lick my lips. “I think my imagination is freakier than I am in real life.”

He straightens. “Is that right? Then what’s something you’ve thought about, Lana?”

My heart starts to race. Nobody’s ever asked me questions like this before. I hardly know him, but the way he watches me, head cocked and ready to hear what I have to say, it feels nice.

“Forget it; you’ll think I’m crazy.”

He laughs. “Sorry to disappoint you yet again, but I already think you’re crazy.”

I give him a look.

“You sat on the hood of your car to keep it from getting towed,” he reminds me.

“Ha! Yeah, speaking of that–”

He puts a hand up. “I’m paying for you to get it back. I already talked to John.”

“As you should!”

He’s still watching me. “Now, about those fantasies.”

“I want to be chased and tied up,” I blurt out. I feel my cheeks heating at the admission.

Trevor’s lips part as he takes in a breath. “Chased… and tied up,” he repeats thoughtfully.

“I told you I’d sound crazy.”

He walks over to me, where I’m seated on the heels of my feet on the ground. And reaches for my chin so that I’m looking up at him. He bends slightly.

“Like earlier… in the snow?”

I give a slight nod. Remembering how good it felt. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, fleeing from danger and then getting caught–his body pressed against mine. I haven’t felt that thrill in so long.

“And then what?” he asks lowly. “What would you want to happen to you once you’re tied up?”

I try to swallow, but it feels even more exaggerated because of the way he’s holding my chin.

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