It takes me a few moments to comprehend what he means. He wants me to stay at his place. And go there like this.

“No way.”

“I wasn’t aware I made a fucking request, Pollyanna.” Mercer looks me up and down. “You can go naked. Up to you.”

I button up his jacket.

“Cheer up, Pollyanna,” Mercer says once we’re in the back of his car minutes later. My cheeks still burn from the walk from my building to his car.

Thank Christ he’s tall enough that the jacket covers everything.

“Really? How?”

“You could have walked to the car naked.” He smiles darkly. “Why don’t you unbutton the jacket and spread your legs, in case I want a change in view?”

My hand goes to the jacket and I blink hard, anger and steel thickening in my blood. Something snaps in me.

I’ll come out here with his cum on me, wearing nothing but a jacket and heels. I’ll call him Sir. I’ll obey him for reasons I barely understand myself. But that?”

Lifting my head and dropping my hand, I meet his gaze. “No.Sir.”

Amusement glitters as he smiles again.

“Your call.”

I’m still fuming as we step into his sky palace as I’ve decided to call it. The gorgeous, soulless place that both fits and doesn’t fit him.

He holds out his hand. “Jacket.”

“No—”

“Pollyanna.” There’s no smile this time. “Give me the fucking jacket.”

I take it off and drop it on the floor.

Something dark flashes in his eyes and it hooks down deep in me, making my clit throb.

“Take off your shoes. Then pick up the jacket and hand them all to me.”

I do and he takes them, draping them neatly on a table near the door.

“Follow me.”

Mercer doesn’t give me a tour, but he leads me up the staircase, past a second floor to a third. This one seems more intimate. We pass a library that doesn’t look like the other rooms. It’s more muted, filled with books, a curved sofa, anda leather chair.

He opens a door and gestures for me to go inside. The room’s huge. There’s a small desk, a coffee table, small velvet sofa, and chairs in a dove gray. There’s a bedroom to the left.

“You can sleep here, Pollyanna. For now.” He leans against the wall, drinking me in, and for a moment, I forget I’m naked. “But first?”

He turns and opens a door to what might be a walk-in closet. Then he returns with some silk ties.

I don’t have time to react until he’s got my hands and my wrists tied up tight. Then he kneels and does the same with my ankles.

He’s done this before. Not to me, obviously, but to other women.

It’s in the practiced ease of his movements. Like he’s lacing up a pair of sneakers. When he stands, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder before carrying me to the sofa. He bends me over the side.

Mercer strokes my ass. “You’re constantly defying me, Pollyanna. We have rules. You know your place. And you know mine. But you’re such a fucking brat. Not calling me sir. Doing it with attitude.”