Page 32 of Searching for Hope

“I’m not sure. Sometimes I can get a few in a day. Sometimes I can go weeks without one. There are lots of triggers; stress, surprises, panic, heightened emotional states.” I glance back up at him. “You.”

“I trigger them?”

I nod. “It’s like my body gets confused. It thinks I’m getting panicked or something.”

“But you’re not?”

“Not exactly.” I can’t look at him. I can’t look him in the eyes and tell him my body surges with arousal when he’s near. I can’t say that my heart beats faster or my breath quickens.

I swallow and look over at him cautiously. “What if there’s some sort of genetic sickness within me? What if I’m just like my father? I mean, I can’t control them. They just overwhelm me and suddenly they’re there. Right in my head. And sometimes I don’t want to get them out.”

“The fact that your body responds to those things does not make you sick or evil, Berkley. Many people participate—”

“But what does it say about me that I’m turned on by the very things my father forced on those women? Forced on Hope.”

Tears prick so I cover my face. He doesn’t understand. Of course I know some people willingly engage in those activities. Of course I know there’s nothing sick or wrong about it. But what flashes through my head is uncontrollable. I have no power over them.

Jericho sits up and pulls my hands away. “It says that you’re very innocent, Miss Berkley.”

I whip my head up. “I am not! You only need to be inside my head to know the thoughts I have are not innocent.”

He squeezes my hands. “You definitely do not want to be inside my head then.” His tongue darts out and moistens his bottom lip. “You don’t know the things I’ve imagined doing to you. But that doesn’t mean I would do any of them if you didn’t want me to.” He jerks my hands closer, urging me to look at him again. “That’s the difference. That’s all the difference. A kiss can be disgusting if you don’t want it, but if you do…”

He leans forward, mouth tilted toward mine. He waits, eyes darting between my eyes and my lips until I lean forward too and then he kisses me softly and gently. His lips slide over mine and sparks of passion ignite, rising and bursting inside my chest. He deepens the kiss, drawing my bottom lip between his teeth before letting it go with painful leisure, leaving me breathless and leaning toward him in expectation.

“A kiss can be euphoric.” He leans back. “But whether euphoric or disgusting, it’s still a kiss.” His head cocks to the side as he inspects me, still leaning toward him, still dizzy with the lingering taste of his mouth. I laugh nervously and sit back.

“If it would make you feel any better,” he says gently. “I think you should go and speak to your father. Force him to listen to you, to what you’re going through. Get some answers. I think you’ll find you’re nothing like him.”

I sigh and tap my head. “I know you’re right in here. But it doesn’t change the fact that I feel guilty. It’s part of the reason I want to help find Hope so much. In here,” I tap my chest, “in here I feel like something’s wrong with me.”

Jericho scrambles off the bed and holds out his hand. “Will you let me do something?”

“What?”

He walks toward the rack of clothing and pulls out a long strip of satin. “Do you trust me?” He wraps the end of the satin around his wrist. “Will you let me tie you up?”

Immediately a flutter of panic starts. “Here? Now?”

“Yes.” He takes a step forward. “But only if you trust me. The moment you say stop, I will. I promise I will not do anything you don’t want me to.”

I laugh nervously. “What? Like, lock me in a room for days on end?”

He stops stalking toward me. “I deserve that. But you know I only did what I thought I had to do at the time, don’t you?”

He stays where he is. The red satin wrapped around his wrist and falling in a puddle on the floor. He’s still naked and the longer I look at him, the more I want him. I want this. The thought of being tied up sets my pulse racing.

“Okay.” I step forward and hold my wrists out.

He has this look in his eyes as though he knew that would be my answer. As though he’s seen inside my head and knows how much I’ve dreamt of being at his mercy. His eyes darken with lust as he steps forward, his gaze locked on me. He lifts my t-shirt first, pulling it up and over my head. Then he starts to bind my wrists, only breaking eye contact to check the knots. The material is soft. It’s firm and secure, but not too tight. Walking me over to the corner of the room where the rafters are the lowest, he throws it up and over, securing it so my wrists are held high in the air.

Then he steps back and surveys me. My body is on full display. I stand with my feet planted firmly on the floor, my arms stretched high above me and each and every inch of my body exposed to him. I feel each breathe of air. Each quiver of temperature change. Each tremble of anticipation.

His eyes travel over my body brazenly. He doesn’t touch me, but I’m pulsing with need just from his gaze alone. My nipples bead and harden. My sex heats. He stalks around me, pacing as though he’s circling his prey. His chest rises and falls with each measured breath. His cock stands firm and hard. I’m tender from the sex we’ve already had but it’s like my body throbs for him. It convulses with need and I let out a small whimper.

Jericho comes closer, close enough that I can feel his breath on my skin. “I could do whatever I wanted to you right now,” he says. “You’re at my mercy.” A single finger touches my wrist, then he lets it fall down my arm with the faintest of strokes. “But that does not mean I want to make you do something you don’t want to do.” He leans closer, his breath dancing over the curve of my neck. “I want to worship you. I want you to trust me with your body and your mind. I want to explore you uninhibited.”

He runs a finger down my side, over the swell of my hip. “I want to see if your skin prickles under my touch.” He spreads his hand over one cheek of my backside. He rubs it a few times back and forth back and forth. “See if you get wet from the slap of my hand.” He slaps me, not hard, but enough for the smallest sting of pain to burn. I moan in pleasure and he grabs my chin, pulling my mouth toward his, and kisses me deeply and firmly.

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