Page 37 of Obey

I’m too afraid to break this spell.

Knives and I stare at each other, until he lets go of me and walks to the bathroom. The light goes on, then he shuts the door. A few seconds later, I hear the shower running.

I flop onto my back, looking down at my hand. It’s going to be sticky and even messier in just a few minutes, but I don’t dare follow him into the bathroom to clean up. Instead, I wait for him to finish, half-drowsing until he comes back to bed.

“Hey…” I try, softly.

“Sorry,” Knives mutters. He keeps his back to me. “Won’t happen again.”

My heart feels like it’s going to break, but I nod even though he can’t see it. I should tell him he doesn’t have to be sorry, that I enjoyed it, but I was the one who’d set these boundaries to begin with. I’d told him no, then I practically pounced on him in the middle of the night. This is my fault, and any fallout is on me.

I get up, feeling a little dizzy, and go into the bathroom to clean up.

When I get back to bed, I try again. “Nayeem?”

No response. He’s either asleep or pretending to be.

My shoulders slump, but I don’t try again.

This time, I do lie on the edge of the bed.

There’s no sense in trying to get close to him. He’s never going to let me anyway.

TEN

KNIVES

New Valence and New Bristol couldn’t be more different. I focus on that, on the architecture and the lights and the people, so I don’t have to think about last night.

Because it’s a full fucking day later, and my mind still keeps circling back to what we’d done.

It wasn’t a hate-fuck.

There was nothing hateful about how we’d done it. There was barely any dominance involved at all. Just us, our bodies, enjoying mutual pleasure.

And for what? For him to remind me that we aren’t anything to each other, because of course we’re fucking not.

I don’t want us to be anything to each other.

I want to hate him.

I want him to suffer.

I want to forget him.

“You didn’t tell me it was a fucking kink club!” Maddox says, staring at the entrance to the meeting place.

“How was I supposed to know?” I say, half growling. “This is the address I got. And it’s not a kink club. It’s just… people dancing.”

Maddox turns to glare at me. “In leather, with chains.”

I point to the small sign next to the door. It reads, There will be no sex on premises. There will be no spanking, whipping, caning, or whatever else your depraved mind tries to use as a loophole either.

“That looks pretty clear to me. Not a kink club.” I push my way inside, and I try very, very fucking hard not to think about Maddox wearing the sorts of clothes on the advertising images plastered around the building.

The music is louder than any kink club I’ve been to, and I spot plenty of people not dressed in bondage gear. It’s just a place for people who like to dance and get sweaty while wearing leather. No leashes, no chains.

Okay, there are dance cages suspended above the dance floor, and the dancers inside those are dressed like sexy cats. Maybe it’s a little kinky.

---