Page 66 of Tempt

He chuckles in my ear. “Yes.”

So I tell him about what I’m currently working on, and how I’m looking forward to the weekend, and we don’t talk about his family again that night.

I catchthe first train Friday morning, and Sam meets me at the train station. He’s dressed in his Bay Street uniform, an expensive suit, with his hair slicked back.

We probably make a funny pair, me in my yoga pants and hiking boots, a backpack tossed over my shoulder, enthusiastically kissing a business shark.

“I have time to run you to my place before my next meeting,” he says, tucking me tight into his side as we navigate the hustle and bustle. “And then I’ll be back for dinner. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

He squeezes me tight, like he noticed, and I press my head in his body.

“Hey, I’ve been doing some research,” he murmurs once we’re in the back of a cab.

I turn my head so I can murmur right back. “About what?”

“Rope.”

“Interesting.”

“Some people find that being tied up helps with anxious feelings.”

I laugh. “Are you going to tie me to your bed while you’re at work?”

“That would hardly be safe.” He sets his hand on my back, just below my neck. “But what about wearing a rope halter?”

I blink in surprise. “That’s some pretty good research.”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He kisses my temple. “You’ve got ten minutes to decide if you want one for the afternoon.”

I don’t have to think about it.

I’m vibrating with excitement when we get upstairs. Sam is very cute about it. He’s watched YouTube videos, he explains, but he wants to watch them while he’s doing it. “Is that okay? Does it take some of the fun out of it?”

“Not at all.” I feel lighter than air, knowing he’s going to do this and he cares about getting it right, and I tell him that. “Do your thing.”

He has the same rope he bought and left at my place. I try to picture him making a hardware store run in his suit, those polished shoes, and I start giggling.

Sam catches my face in his and kisses me, swallowing my laughter. Turns it to soft moans. Then he spins me around and gets to work. The rope is doubled, and the pressure feels so nice as he pulls it around me. Up and over my shoulders, down between my breasts. He’s putting the harness on over my shirt, but each brush of his fingertips against my skin, even through the fabric, makes me sizzle.

“There you go,” he says as he tucks the ends neatly away. “And if it bothers you at any point, you can cut yourself out of it. But if you’re still in it when I get home, I’ll untie you, and you can tell me how it felt to be bound like this all day.”

After he leaves, I move through his loft enjoying the feel of the rope gently hugging my body. I look at it in the mirror in his bathroom, slide my fingers against the double strands, the loops where they split and twist.

Then I dig out my laptop and get set up to work on his bed, with that million dollar view out the window.

Hours pass, and I’m startled to realize the sun is setting. I unfurl myself from the nest of pillows and blankets I was writing in and head into the main open space to think about dinner.

One of the paintings on the wall catches my eye, an abstract.

That’s where Sam finds me.

He crosses to me and tugs at the back of the harness, spinning me around so he can kiss me deeply. “Missed you all day.”

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