Page 64 of Good Girl

Scenes don’t normally make me nervous.

But every other scene hasn’t had my potential future weighing down on it.

This one needs to go perfectly.

I force myself to ease up and pull back from her. I can’t go into this scene worried about its outcome. It will be what it will be. We can figure it out after everything is over, and if it doesn’t go well, then we can try to find a compromise. If she wants to.

Fuck.

Enough of that.

Head in the scene.

As Emmy looks up at me, I stare back and slow my breathing. She needs to know she can trust me to look after her and give herexactly what she needs when I say she needs it. This nervous shit that is going on with me has to go.

Slowly, I let go. Of the worry. The hope.

Nothing matters other than right now, this very minute. And then the next. There is nothing outside of this ten-by-ten space but the three of us, the chair, and the ropes. Everything else is just noise.

Emmy blinks, then lowers her eyes from mine and, fuck, seeing her react to the change within me is something else.

I tip her chin up with a knuckle. “Have you ever experienced shibari?”

Chin still resting on my knuckle, she shakes her head, eyes downcast. “No, Daddy.”

“Besides the restraints we have used on you, have you ever been tied up?”

She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, Daddy.”

I clench my jaw as a spike of lust shoots through me. The confirmation thatmyropes will be the first that wrap around her skin shakes the mental bars that I just locked around my hope. While thisnotunexpected piece of knowledge buoys me, it also pains me to know that she won’t be the first sub to be bound by my ropes.

However, that is a problem to work through another time.

Releasing the hold I have on her chin, I turn her to face the chair and gesture at it. With gentle pressure on her lower back, I guide her the few steps toward the chair. “I’ll be restraining you to this chair using some of the ropes hanging on the wall behind you.”

“Can I pick the color?”

The question catches me off guard. I can’t think of a time that a sub has asked to select the rope.

I glance over at Hudson, and he smirks back at me.

Fucker.

“If I allowed you to pick, what colors would you choose?” My throat feels scratchy, making it rougher, as heat pools at the bottom of my spine.

She doesn’t even hesitate before raising her arm to the wall of ropes. “That dark blue. And the black.”

I follow her gaze to the silk wall and see that she is pointing at the royal blue and the black a few lines down. My eyebrow quirks upward. “Why?”

Her hand comes up to her mouth, and she bites down on the tender flesh on the side of her thumb. It’s something I’ve noticed she does when she is unsure of her answer. Or how we will react to her answer.

I remain quiet. It’s a simple question, and she will share the answer, but the longer she fails to answer, the more uncomfortable she will feel when she does. Clearly, her answer embarrasses her. She probably didn’t think I was going to call her on it.

She will need to learn that we will question everything. We will want to know everything that is going on inside of her mind so that we know her better than she knows herself. We’ll swap information like trading cards. Nothing will be off limits. It’ll help us understand her state of mind and to ensure that she is never anything but comfortable and safe in our presence—emotionally, at least.

“It’s the closest color combination to your eyes.”

The words are said barely loud enough to be heard over the music, but I do hear them. And, fuck, I can’t say no to that. Knowing she has picked a color that will leave her secured with something she associates with me is…

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