Page 53 of What Doesn't Kill Us

Fuck it.

If she’s truly toying with me, and none of this is real, then I’ll die by her hand with no regrets.

I help her rise, then stand beside her, taking her hand and leading her across the room and out the door to the stairs. We enter the living space of my hideaway, and she looks around with great interest. “What is this place?”

“It’s where I go when I don’t want to be found.”

“And where you bring people you want to never be found?”

I shake my head. “No. No one else has ever been here before now.”

She gives me an almost shy smile, and I turn away from her, walking across the room toward the loft stairs. “This way.”

She follows behind me, and awareness flickers over me as her hands reach out, stroking lightly over my back. I stop at the bottom of the stairs, motioning for her to proceed me up the steep staircase. I watch her scramble up the ladder, second-guessing my decision to go along with her plan to tie me up.

Her voice draws my attention, and I look up to see her peering down at me from above, beaming with anticipation. “You coming?”

I smile back at her. “Of course.”

If this turns out to be a giant fucking error in judgment, then I deserve whatever bloody end I may come to.

I scramble up the stairs after her, raising my brows when I find her standing in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around her waist protectively. I walk over, pulling her close as I say, “It’s okay if you’re having second thoughts. We don’t have to do anything right now.”

She shakes her head, pushing me away to look me in the eye as she says, “Nope. I’m in. We’re doing this.”

I grin at her conviction, pushing down my inclination to argue with her. If this is a trap, I can only hope she lets me finish before ending me.

I must have a strange look on my face at the thought because her eyes narrow slightly, and then she says, “What? What’s that look for?”

I shake my head, but honesty falls from my lips. “I was thinking that if this is a trap, I hope you let me finish before slitting my throat. Take that as my dying wish, if that’s where this is headed.”

She gapes at me. “You’re going to let me tie you up, thinking it could be a trap? Are you insane?”

“Clearly.”

“You don’t have to be tied up,” she says breathlessly. “It’s not a requirement, just a thought.”

I shake my head, walking over to the dresser and grabbing a belt and a couple of ties from the top drawer. “I don’t have any official restraints here, so we’ll have to improvise.”

She scoffs. “The darkly eclectic Darius Hughes, with no type of bondage gear? What would people say?”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “Darkly eclectic? Really?”

She shrugs before explaining, “I don’t think unhinged really suits you. While you’re certifiable, you’re clearly not insane.”

I walk over to the bed, securing the belt around the headboard, then turn toward her. “How would you like me?”

She looks at me, then looks at the bed, a blush staining her cheeks as she replies, “On your back, hands over your head.”

“Should I undress first?”

She shakes her head as she walks over until she’s standing in front of me, almost close enough to touch. “I’ll do it. I want to unwrap you like a present.”

The heat in her gaze has a shiver running up my spine, and I lean in, brushing my lips over hers before stepping back and climbing onto the bed. I secure the ties around my wrists, then lie back, stretching my arms over my head. “You’ll have to secure the ties to the belt. I’ll likely be able to get out of them in a pinch, but certainly not fast enough to save my life.”

She gives me a dirty look. “For fuck sake, Dare. Stop joking about your own murder.”

“Oh, but what a way to go.”

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