Page 77 of Their Cruel Love

Razor

“Let’s get away from here.” I grab one of her arms while Marcus takes the other, and we help Phoebe to her feet. She is still red-faced and breathing hard. Not surprising since she almost fell to her death. “There?” I point.

Marcus agrees. Phoebe shrugs and starts dusting off her hands before wincing and staring at the bleeding one. I turn it over to see her knuckles.

“I’d call you a fool, but maybe it’s too late for that, and I plan to take it out on your ass anyway.”

“Ruler, crop?” Marcus suggests. “I like teeth.”

“Hand, cane, blow-torch?” I continue. “Choose a couple.”

Phoebe eyerolls. “I think investigating this shit place meanswe take risks. Yes?”

“Calculated risks,” I point out. “Next time ask so we can organize, think, help you do it.”

“You would have said no.”

I glare at her. “Maybe, because it was bloody risky.”

She avoids my eyes, and holds her hand up again, tsking at her abrasions. There is blood, but mostly she has rubbed off skin. “Climbing gloves. I needed those.”

“Come on. Let’s sit over there.” Marcus has her right hand while I have the wrist of her injured one.

We bypass the ruins and the trapdoor, heading for the other side, where the shade and a low stone block make a good place to sit.

Once we are seated, I wait for her to calm her breathing, to look less likely to faint from doing too much in this sticky tropical climate. “Your hand, please.”

“I looked.” She shrugs a shoulder. “It’s minor.” But she places it on my thigh.

“I guess it is.” I poke her fingers, pulling gently at the skin. “Nothing else that Marcus can check on the other hand? You need a couple of Band-Aids on your knuckles. So.” I give her back her hand. “No more doing that again. Please.”

“Because?” She looks from me to Marcus. “I am an adult. It is my friend who is missing. This is not sex, not CNC.”

“Because we care,” Marcus says, though he seems embarrassed to say that. “Because watching you almost die gave me a heart attack. Because I’m going to really take it out on your ass ten times over if you ever do anything like that again.”

“Oh.” Phoebe pulls a face as if shocked, but her shoulders slump. She adds, softly. “Sorry. I didn’t think that would happen.”

I pull her to me, kiss the top of her head then say to Marcus. “Dibs, I get first go at her butt?”

“Flip you for it.” He pulls out a coin.

By then she’s figured out we are serious and tries to rise. “Take care with that hand!” I say that more for her than Marcus.

With more kindness than usual, we wrestle her onto her knees then tie her hands behind her using her own shirt after it’s stripped from her. Took a bit of finagling to do that but we manage to get it off both arms then turn it into bondage material.

“I hope you didn’t hurt my shirt. I’m running out of good clothes.” Such a cute pout.

“Aw, shucks. Then we’d have our fucktoy permanently naked.” I ruffle up her hair.

“Oh the horror,” Marcus drawls.

She blows a raspberry. I win the coin toss.

When I have her over my lap, my hand over her wrists, Marcus cradles her head so she doesn’t bump it on the rock we’re sitting on. We’ve pulled down her shorts and panties, undone her red bra. She’s ninety percent naked, I figure.

I toy with her fingers, stroke along them, watch her respond and covet mine. I exhale softly. “Do you want me to untie your hands?” It’s not something I normally ask, and she hasn’t safeworded, but this, now, is different. She almost fell.

“No. I’m okay.” She squirms on me. “It makes me calm.”

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