Page 112 of His Rules

A wry smile washed across her face, her eyebrows knitting together.

“You don’t think Sebastian had something to do with this. Do you?”

“I don’t know.” Her singsong voice was back. “Why don’t you open your present?”

“Why do I think you have something up your sleeve?”

“I’m not wearing any sleeves.”

I rolled my eyes and set my wine on the island, moving to the kitchen table. I didn’t have chairs yet, but I did have a table. As I untied the ribbon, I could tell she was watching me anxiously. “Should I be afraid?”

“Oh, very, very afraid.”

“Bitch.”

“You love me. Say it.”

I pulled the tissue paper away and immediately growled as I pulled the first item into the light. “Handcuffs? Really?”

“Well, you mentioned Sebastian wants to tie you to the bed. I just provided a method of doing so.” Stephanie couldn’t stop laughing.

After placing them on the table as if they were going to break, I reached into the bag once again. This time, I burst into laughter. “A whip?”

“It’s called a tawse, my bestie. You need to spend some time looking up the vocabulary.”

“Right. You’re so mean to me.”

I groaned when I heard the doorbell. “Might be the cable guy.”

She laughed. “I’ll get it while you play with your new toys.”

“Very funny. Go ahead. I’ll just drink your wine.”

“You better not.”

With the tawse in one hand and the handcuffs in the other, I did have a few wicked images playing out in my mind.

“Um, Kacey. Are you expecting something to be delivered?”

I tried to remember if I’d ordered anything at this point. No, I hadn’t. With the items still in my hands, I headed into the living room and toward the front door. “What is that?”

“It’s got your name on it,” she said. “The delivery driver needs a signature.”

The crate was huge. I moved slowly, embarrassed by what I was holding in my hands. I shoved them onto the empty mantel before returning to the front door. “That has to be a painting of some kind. Who ordered this?” I asked the guy standing in front of us.

“There’s no name. Just sign here.”

No name. I scribbled my signature and Stephanie and I had to work together to pull the crate inside.

“Do you have a crowbar?”

“Does it look like I have a crowbar?”

She rolled her eyes. “Hold on. I have one in the trunk along with other tools.”

I lifted my eyebrows.

“Hey,” she said. “A girl can’t be too careful these days.”

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