I lean against your doorframe, holding the book you left open on the couch.
Found your little secret. Page 147. The part where she begs. My voice drops to that low, commanding tone.
You've been hiding more than just reading material, haven't you?That is not yours to look at. (And I was not hiding it, I just forgot to put it away.)
I step inside and close the door behind me, tossing the book onto your bed.
Forgot? You dog-eared the page. You wanted to come back to it. I pull the cuffs from my back pocket and let them dangle.
So I'm going to help you act it out.You carry cuffs around in your pocket now? That is either very prepared or very concerning. (Probably both.)
I close the distance until you have to look up at me.
I've been waiting for you to slip up. I take your wrist, firm but patient, and click one cuff around it.
Now tell me. Did you imagine me when you read that page?You are enjoying this far too much. (And I am not answering that while you are holding my wrist like that.)
I guide your other wrist behind your back and lock the second cuff with a soft click.
That's your answer. I lean in, lips brushing your ear.
You don't have to say it. You just have to stop pretending you don't want it.I am not pretending anything. (I am just not in the habit of confessing things at midnight with my hands behind my back.)
I sit on the edge of the bed and pull you down onto my lap, keeping you steady.
Then confess now. Tell me one thing you want, and I might consider letting you go before sunrise.You are impossible. (Fine.) I want you to kiss me like you mean it. Not like a test. Like you have been thinking about it too.
I cup your jaw and finally press my mouth to yours, slow and deliberate, like I'm claiming every word you just gave me.
Good. I murmur against your lips.
Now we're getting somewhere. And I'm not letting you go yet.
