Page 160 of Those Who Are Bound

He laughed again.

“Change in subject: what was the first movie that gave you nightmares?” she asked.

He made a sound like it was an unexpected and sudden change in topics. After a few seconds, he answered, “You can’t laugh:The Wizard of Oz. The witch scared me. I was three. You?”

“The Exorcist.” Before he could question her, she looked over her shoulder and answered, “And it has nothing to do with… that.” She was referring to her stance on religion.

They exchanged first paychecks (hers: yogurt shop; his: newspaper route). He surprised her by asking about her first non-self-induced orgasm, so apparently he was committed to the sexual theme. She dodged the question, an image of Becks coming to the fore, and parried, “I know yours was your ex-wife.”

Laughing again, he continued, “Okay, then what about your best orgasm?”

Elliott turned in her seat and shot him a sultry look. “Are you fishing for a compliment? That’s such an obvious way to go about it.”

Jonah grinned back at her. “So, you’re saying…?”

“You are! Shameless, Mr. Montgomery.”

“Which one, then, since I proudly claim that prize? Or do I just keep topping myself?”

Elliott let out a full belly laugh. But the man hands-downcouldclaim that prize. Half-turning on the bench, she informed him, “Our first night. The slap.” The moment she was sure she’d passed out.

All playfulness left as he stared at her. If the canoe tipped, she doubted he would have noticed. He looked like he wanted to abandon his station and close the short distance between them so he could recreate that moment. The severe throbbing of her clit wanted him to do so.

Forcing nonchalance, she raised one shoulder as she faced forward again. “Although my French kiss vibrator from the adult toy store comes in at a close second.”

“Only because you haven’t actually sat on my face yet,” he growled, sounding both offended by and determined not to be ranked so closely to an inanimate object.

“Oh god,” she whispered to herself, realizing it was true. Something she was going to miss out on. And she had no doubt that Jonah would keep her in place until she was tearing out his hair, screaming for mercy. Or until she did faint; yes, he’d make her faint.

Her imagination almost took her out right then and there.

Why was she going to end this tonight? Why did she have to stop anything? He was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

“Awfully quiet now,” he pointed out. She could hear the prideful smirk.

She teased back, “I can’t remember if I turned off the coffee machine.”

Now he laughed, the sound echoing down the river, enveloping her in its rich warmth.

Elliott saw Lucy standing on the shoreline at about the same time there was a hard drag of the oar, causing the canoe to veer toward an inlet. A couple of other people were standing with Lucy—who had changed into a yellow sundress—watching them approach. They looked stressed rather than welcoming.

One of the workers for the river tour was wading out in the water, ready to help bring them in, to line their canoe up with the others at the landing site. Elliott was focused on Lucy, however, trying to figure out what their expressions meant.

Were they late? Could there be such a thing as being late on a float trip? Surely, they weren’t the last to make it in.

“Elliott!” Jonah called out. His voice sounded urgent; warning, almost.

Before she could look around to see what he was warning her about, a heavy length of wet rope smacked her on the legs and stomach. She startled, nearly coming off the bench and upsetting the canoe. She lifted her hands as she stared down at it, lying in her lap like a snake.

“Sorry, ma’am, thought you were looking,” the guy called.

No. No, she hadn’t been. “Jonah,” she breathed out.

The canoe lurched, and Jonah was suddenly beside it—beside her—pulling the rope away. He looped it through a ring in front of her, then grasped her arms and pulled her up. “Are you okay?”

She wasn’t. She was trembling. Squeezing his arms, she let him help her out of the canoe. “Jonah—”

“Jonah?” Lucy called out.

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