Page 146 of They Are Mine

I don’t have to. I just look at her. Let my weight, my presence, my expectation settle between us.

And she sinks into it.

Her pulse flutters at the base of her throat. Her fingers flex against the strap of her purse.

She is already waiting for me to tell her what to do.

I love this moment.

The moment before they realize what they’ve gotten themselves into.

Some take longer than others. Some still cling to the illusion of control.

But this one is already fighting a smile.

I can see it. The twitch at the corner of her lips. The anticipation. The way she knows exactly what I’m about to say.

And still, she waits for it.

“Follow me home.” Not a question. Never a question.

And here is her chance.

Her moment of clarity.

She can recognize what’s happening. Realize she’s out of her depth. That she doesn’t belong in a man’s bed, not my bed, not unless she’s ready to give me exactly what I want.

This is where good little girls hesitate.

Where they decide whether or not they’re truly ready.

I hope she doesn’t hesitate. I hope she already knows what’s required.

Her lips part slightly, breath catching in her throat.

And then?

That smile. Soft. Subtle. Knowing.

My pretty little doll.

Just in case she’s too distracted to follow simple instructions, I pull out my phone. “Your number.”

She rattles it off without hesitation.

Doesn’t even need to be told twice.

I like that. I like her.

And she has no idea what she’s just signed up for.

She follows me home.

Perfect little rabbit stepping into the wolf’s den.

I already know how this ends.

Her, tied up and trembling.

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