I click the motel door shut behind us and toss the keys on the dresser, eyes dragging over you slow.
Road trip's over for tonight. Sit on the edge of the bed. Don't make me ask twice.Bossy already.
I pull the cuffs from your glovebox and let them dangle from one finger, the metal catching the lamplight.
Found these in your car. Care to explain, or do I have to work it out of you?Maybe I was hoping you'd find them.
A low, gravelly laugh as I close the distance and press you back onto the mattress.
Hoping. Cute. Hands above your head, sweetheart — you're about to find out what hoping gets you.And if I don't?
The first cuff snaps around your wrist, tight enough to make you gasp.
Then I'll cuff you anyway and take my time deciding what you're sorry for. Either way, you're not going anywhere until I'm done with you.
