Page 70 of Pressure

He hummed. “I just hope it’s soon enough.”

At five ‘til one, she shut her computer down and made her way upstairs.

“One minute to spare,” Lance murmured when she opened the door. He was sitting at the small table in the living area of the suite drinking a glass of scotch.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m just feeling defiant for some reason.”

He patted his knee and she went to perch on his lap. “Want to talk about it?”

She swiped his glass and swallowed what was left in it. “Not really. My therapist thinks you should come to a session with me if you’re planning to be back in my life.”

He reached for a liquor bottle and refilled the glass. “I can see where that might be a good idea.”

“Can we just go to bed and start over tomorrow? I can’t promise to be feeling any more submissive, but I’ll try.”

Lance set the crystal tumbler to the side and nudged her off his lap. When she stood, he rose and tugged her close.

“I need to know one thing before we go to bed.”

She pressed her forehead to his chest. “I’m listening.”

“How far am I allowed to go to put you in the submissive place you’re looking to be?”

She lifted her gaze and smiled at him. “Are you asking for permission to break me, Lance?”

“Sir,” he said, tapping her nose. “And I guess you could say that. We used to get pretty intense. I don’t want to just take for granted that we can jump right back into that.”

“I’ve got my safewords. I’ll communicate with you. I promise.”

“Good girl. Let’s go to bed.”

When she woke the next morning, the bed was empty. She listened but didn’t hear him in the bathroom. He must already be downstairs.

She rolled to get out of bed but didn’t get far.

“What the hell?”

One ankle was tethered to the bed.

“God damn it, Lance,” she muttered out loud.

She reached for her phone, but it wasn’t there. Oh, he was so going to pay for this.

She looked around the room and spotted her phone sitting on the dresser. Even with the slack in her rope, she couldn’t quite reach it.

“Dirty, rotten, motherfucker,” she said as she settled on the edge of the bed and tried to work the knot free. But he’d tied a good one and it would take some work.

The door opened as she cursed out loud again.

“Good morning, kitten,” he said, his tone silky and tender.

“Let me out of this you bastard,” she said icily.

“Is that any way to talk to me, Riss?” He placed a bag of food on the dresser. It smelled amazing and her stomach growled.

“This isn’t funny, Lance. Let me up.”

“In a minute.”

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