She glared mutinously. "We're starting this with pissing me off, are we?"
I went into the closet and flicked on the light. "I'm introducing the concept of no control," I said with a smile in my voice. "Doyou think you can handle that?" She was suspiciously quiet, so after I grabbed the silver silk bag with the coiled rope inside, I poked my head out to check on her. "Gem?"
She had her brows furrowed in thought and stared off in the distance. "I've never thought about it before," she admitted.
"What? Giving up control?"
She nodded absently. "Yeah. Hasn't been an option."
I suspected that giving up some control and letting go was exactly what Gemma needed. God knew it was what I had needed after leaving home as an undergrad. I'd evolved since then, but Gemma had always struck me as someone who needed order and some predictability. It was like she herself was a whirling vortex of energy and creativity, and in order to make herself feel safe, she needed everything around her to be solid and airtight—controlled. From what she'd told me about her upbringing—the moves from house to house, the instability with her mother's moods and her parents' relationship—it made sense.
But she also needed to know that it was okay to let go. To breathe. To feel.
I gathered a few more items from a chest I kept in the corner next to my shoes and then joined her at the bed. When I dumped my armful onto the white bedspread, she cocked her head at it, sipping the last of her soda through the straw. "Is that a blindfold?"
"Mhm." I picked up the black silk blindfold and let it dangle. "Because I know you, Gemma, and you're going to overthink this entire thing if I let you see what I'm doing."
Gemma's cheeks came as close to a blush as I'd ever seen. She lowered her drink, wetting her lips and looking for once, a little nervous. "That's true. I probably would."
I joined her on the bed, kneeling so her knees were between mine. I placed my hands on her upper arms, rubbing circles with my thumbs. "Let's talk stoplights."
She frowned in confusion. "Stoplights?"
"Green means you love it," I said, taking her soda from her and putting it on the side table. "Yellow means you're feeling unsure about something, and red means stop, undo everything, and back off."
"Oh." With her soda gone, Gemma brought her torso up against mine, threading her arms around my neck and settling her ass on my lap. "Stoplights are smart." She angled her lips up to mine for a kiss. "What else?"
I pressed our lips together gently before answering. "If anything hurts, you have to be honest."
Her eyes darted between mine. "Does it usually hurt?"
"No," I replied mildly. "In fact, the opposite is meant to be true. The rope is usually wrapped around in wide bands that encourage blood flow and prevent one place from receiving too much pressure." I reached around her head to where I saw a bobby pin sticking out from her swirled chignon and plucked it out. "But there is a bit of… adjustment… sometimes."
She tilted her head to give me better access to the pins. "Which one of those rope ties are you doing? One from the book?"
I shook my head, removing another pin and watching in fascination as her thick hair sagged, begging to be released. "Simpler than those. You have to work up your tolerance to bondage."
She pouted her pretty pink lips. "But I'm an expert hussy."
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling before removing another bobby pin. That time, half her hair fell to her shoulder. "Expertanythingother than Shibari practitioner doesn't cut it in this case."
"I like how you didn't contradict me," she snickered.
I plucked out another pin, and the whole swirl of strawberry blond hair fell down her back. I kissed her neck softly. "I don't care who you were. I want you as you are now." Jesus, she smelled like roses and vanilla. I ran my nose up and down the curve of her neck, savoring the feel and scent of her.
She sighed happily. "Alright. I guess I can get on board with that. I kind of have to pee, though. You sure you're not just torturing me for giving your mom the middle finger every time she turned her back?"
I chuckled, kissing up to her jaw. "If anything, I'm giving you a reward for that."
"I like rewards. I can be a good girl if I get treats."
I brought my lips to hers and kissed her softly. "You deserve every good thing on this planet, Gemma." She opened her mouth in silent surprise, and I swallowed her unspoken words, kissing her deeply. She moaned into my mouth, angling her hips against mine and pressing her body into me with feverish need. I licked her bottom lip, and then pulling away, I whispered, "Now be a good girl and take off your clothing."
Chapter twenty-five
Gemma
Rule #23: No sex in the apartment.
