Page 115 of Whatever Lola Wants

She’d taken two steps before a hard arm grabbed her around her waist, then she was airborne.

She let out a furious shriek that halted abruptly when she landed on the bed. Stunned, momentarily breathless, she lay still for a moment.

“This doesn’t have to be a fight,” he told her.

“Fuck you,” she spat back, shoving up again, and he shook his head with a sigh.

“Hard way, then,” he replied, and opened the trunk at the foot of the bed.

She moved fast, sliding off the bed to hit the floor running. She was nearly at the top of the stairs when he caught her this time, wrapping his arms around her from behind and lifting her off her feet. Her arms were pinned at her sides, rendering them all but useless, but her feet were free. She kicked the whole way back to the bed, but her shoes had fallen off and her bare heels bouncing off the hard bones of his shins probably hurt her more than it hurt him.

The sheer injustice of it threatened to choke her.

This time when he tossed her down on the bed, he flattened himself on top of her. Her breath left her lungs with a whoosh, and with the bulk of him pressing down on her, she was well and truly caught.

She kicked, spat, wiggled, struggled and punched, all to no avail. He held her down easily, grabbing first one hand, then the other, to force them up over her head. She felt something wrap around her wrists and struggled harder, but with a soft metallic click, he had the cuffs attached to the iron headboard, one to each corner.

She let out a muffled scream of rage and yanked at her arms, cuffs rattling. She bucked against the weight on her body, surprised when he shifted off her, but before she could wrestle free, he was wrapping cuffs around her ankles and securing them to the footboard.

He had her spread and bound, and it had taken less than a minute.

He sat back on his haunches next to her hip and surveyed her with satisfaction. “That’s better.”

Her response to that was a nasty snarl and a violent yank on the restraints. The bed shook, but the cuffs held fast. Simon lifted a brow. “You can’t get loose,” he said mildly. “You might as well calm down.”

“I’m going to kill you,” she said flatly, and he grinned.

“You brought this on yourself, sweetheart,” he said and laid a hand on low on her belly. “I gave you a chance to come quietly.”

His hand on her stomach felt warm. Heavy. Right. Goddamn him. Her voice was harsh with pain when she spoke. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

He hesitated, then lifted his hand. “All right. I won’t touch you. But I need you to listen.”

She shifted her gaze to the ceiling, tears of rage and helplessness filling her eyes. She battled them back, unwilling to give him any more of her tears.

“Lola? Are you going to listen?”

“I can’t go anywhere,” she pointed out, refusing to look at him.

The bed shifted when he moved. She resolutely kept her eyes pinned to the ceiling, her body rigid with anger.

“That’s not a yes.”

“You don’t get a yes,” she spat, still refusing to look at him. “You think you can force me here, tie me down against my will, and get a yes?”

“I’m not hearing your safeword,” he replied, clearly amused.

She looked at him now, so infuriated she momentarily lost the power of speech. “This is play to you? You think this is a fucking game?”

He sobered. “No. It’s not. Lola, I’m sorry.”

“Fine. You’re sorry. Are we done?”

He cursed under his breath. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

She yanked her arms, making the cuffs rattle. “Is there any reason why I should?”

“I love you,” he said and shocked her into silence.

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