Page 8 of James

Laura nodded and took a tentative step backward. She bit her lip and hugged herself – a self-soothing gesture that pulled at his dominant strings. “Can we go around it?” she asked.

“No. Everything’s wet,” he said, which was an understatement. The back lot of the laundromat had become a shallow ocean spotted with islands of jagged glass, twisted metal, and fallen power lines. “Water is a great conductor and humans are great grounders. We’re not getting out this way. Come on.”

“It looked like the vape store next door was gone,” Laura said, following him through the back room. “Just gone.”

“Yeah.”

“And the thrift store and the pawn shop and… and everything. But we’re still standing,” she said, looking around at the employee’s area in childlike wonder. “We were barely touched at all!”

Then they opened the door to the main room.

Technically, the laundromat was still there, but the entire front wall had been destroyed, as completely as if it had been bitten off. The only proof there had ever been windows was broken glass glittering everywhere among the bricks, insulation, splintered boards, and soggy chunks of drywall. The laundry vending machine must have been hit by something; its face was shattered, colorful baggies of detergent floated in the pockets of suds churned up by the storm. The tree that had smashed through the window earlier had been joined by another, which was almost fortunate as it prevented the roof from caving in completely, although the ceiling was now a good five feet lower across most of the room. He could see sky in only one place: where the signpost from the parking lot had come down like a hammer, shattering its face on the washing machines where it had landed, and exposing all its electrical innards.

“Maybe we can call for help?” James reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He cursed and showed the black screen. How convenient – his battery was dead.

Laura pointed at a backpack next to the washing machine. “My phone is in my backpack over there. Can I get it?”

James assessed the path in front of them. “I’ll get it. I can reach it more easily.” James moved through the space, carefully avoiding the small puddles of water and the shambles left by the tornado.

As he returned with the backpack, he took Laura byher elbow and guided her into the back room. She flipped through the contents of her bag and dug out her cell phone. The device lit up, but then Laura let out a disappointed sound and showed him the screen. “No service.” Her shoulders drooped. “That’s what I get for going through a discount company.”

“Looks like we’ll have to wait for the cavalry. There are probably rescue teams already at work clearing the area.”

“You don’t think we can clear a path through the front?”

“Oh, I’m sure we can move some stuff around, but I’m not sure which stuff is holding up the roof. We can’t risk it.”

“Can we get out through one of the back windows? Away from the cable?”

“It’s not about where the cable is so much as where the water is.”

“And the water’s everywhere,” Laura agreed with a reluctant nod. “But what if it starts to rain and the water comes inside?” Her eyes grew wide. “And what if ….”

James yanked her toward him and in one swift move, bent forward and flung her over his shoulder. Before she could open her mouth to protest, his hand came down on her still tender ass. She let out a small cry of pain and shock before she went slack over his shoulder. He walked back into the storage room and laid her down on the makeshift bed.

He lay down with her and pulled both her hands up over her head. “I don’t want you to think or worry for a while,” he said before connecting his mouth with hers.

She submitted to his ministrations, becoming pliant in his arms. She didn’t fight his hold and followed hislead. Her mouth opened when he demanded access and their tongues danced in a sensual rhythm, as perfectly in sync with one another as Latin dancers.

Efficiently, he unwrapped the layers that concealed her, peeling away the protective garments she wore. Like an artist unveiling a masterpiece hidden beneath a shroud, James exposed the raw beauty that lay beneath the fabric. Before she fully comprehended what was happening, he had her naked and trembling beneath him.

James kissed and nibbled on her mouth as he fumbled with his belt. He pulled it from the loops of his jeans and fastened the leather around one of the support poles of a shelf. In a practiced move he then looped the belt around Laura’s wrists and sat back on his haunches to admire his handy work as Laura tentatively pulled on her binding. When there was no give, she tried harder.

“Do you need to use your safeword, honey?” James asked.

She stilled and visibly relaxed at the reminder. “No, sir, I’m fine.”

He smiled. “Of course you are. Please try not to pull too hard. Normally I would use leather cuffs with soft padding. They wouldn’t leave noticeable marks, but this belt is much less forgiving.”

She nodded and quickly added, “Yes, Sir,” with a shy smile, visibly remembering his preference for verbal responses.

“How are you feeling?”

Her smile faded into a nervous frown. “Vulnerable and exposed. You’re still fully dressed, with only your belt missing, and I’m naked.” She bit at her lower lip and gave her improvised restraints a shake. “And bound.”

James kept his distance and let his arms danglebetween his thighs.Will she remember to use her safeword?

“Yellow,” she whispered.

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