“That’s not aquestion.”
“No, it isn’t,” Iconsidered. “You like being in them when they’re fixed?” Thatwasn’t technically a question either, but I figured I could startwith a gimme.
Her breath caught.“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I like being at themercy of the person I’m playing with.” She stared at me with wideeyes. Her panic returned, rising to the surface in a flurry ofshadow and movement, and she clapped both hands over her mouth.“I—that—”
“It’s okay,” Isoothed. “I’m not going to ask you to try them with metonight.”
“You’re not?” Shelowered her hands, rapid breaths slowing. “I didn’t mean to saythat.”
“How long has itbeen since you played with someone you trust?” I took a slow, shortstep toward her.
“Never.” She closedher eyes and ran her hands over her hair. Wayward black curlstangled around her fingers, and she pulled them free. “Wait, that’snot true. I had some fun playdates, once.”
“And your full-timepartner?”
“He hurt me.” Sheopened her eyes and stared straight at me.
They were green,which I hadn’t been sure of from the distance between us and thelighting before. Clouded, like creamy jade, or a building stormover the ocean on a dark summer afternoon full of turmoil andpromise.
“He’s an asshole.” Ireturned her stare, letting her see me as I was, albeit from behindthe mask. Westly had lied. The damn things weren’t comfortable atall.
“He was.” She saidthe words with some surprise and smiled. “He was an asshole.”
“What happened tohim?” I asked casually, taking another step forward.
“No idea. My bossdealt with him.”
Which means thefucker never likely saw the light of the next day.
“Sounds like anexcellent boss.”
“He is.”
“Do you play withhim?”
Her gaze was hooded.“No. I—no. He’s too unpredictable for me.”
That’sinteresting.Enota needed reliability after her shittyexperience. Not that I blamed her. I stored the extra observationalong with a tiny file labeledEnotain my mind.
“Thank you.” Ismiled and she raised an eyebrow. “For sharing. You don’t like thesawhorse?”
She blanched. “Ifucking hate that thing.”
“Then that’s off thelist too.” I held out a hand. She frowned but said nothing,crossing the room in a few quick steps to press her fingers intomine. “And you hate the fuggly chair, the bed is in the other room,and the cross gives you vertigo. Did I get it right?”
“Yes,” shewhispered, raising her face to mine.
How long has itbeen since anyone listened to this girl?Really listened toher.
Beneath the harshwhite lights I was certain had been installed on purpose to givethe impression of a sterile environment or to enhance exposure, hersoft green eyes were flecked with golden brown, like a sparklymineral.
I dipped my head,close enough to kiss her, but reined in my need before I took ittoo far and cleared my throat. “So that leaves … the spankingbench.”
Her lips parted farenough to let a short puff of sweet breath graze my mouth. Iinhaled her, sweet lime and sharp mint, letting her scent swirlaround me like an aged wine. Fuck, but she was incredible.
