Page 12 of Fire Island
“Yes,” I utter.
The curtain shifts to one side. I cover myself the best I can.
“Out, Eve.”
I step out of the tub, still holding one arm over my chest and the other hand over my groin. He hands me a towel and waits, eyes wild. Anticipating the split second I will have to remove my hands and expose myself to grab the towel.
I grind my molars shut and reach for the towel, sacrificing my breasts.
His mouth falls open, his breaths coming in quick, short pants.
My chin wobbles, but I stand tall. If I can affect some sort of control over him, I’m going to use it to my advantage.
No matter the cost, I am going to get off this island.
“On the bed. Let me look at you.”
“No.” The word leaves my mouth before my strategic mind can intercept.
“Now, Butterfly.”
The front of his black sweatpants is tented.
The thought of what the material hides makes me ill, but I manage to say, “Fine, where do you want me?”
He nods to the bed, and I drop the towel. I swear he groans behind me.
This is going to be easier than I thought.
If only I can find the line between his need and protecting myself.
I lie. T moves in, pulling the cuffs from his pocket.
“No—” I shoot my hands up, and he catches my wrist.
No, stop.
The cuff strangles my wrists before he attaches the other end to the cast-iron bedpost. He pushes me onto the mattress.
Fuck.
“Now.” He traces his knuckles across my jawline before dragging his gaze to mine. “This is progress.”
“If you call chaining up a woman progress, you have a few things to assess, T,” I hiss.
“Timothy.”
“What?”
“My name is Timothy. And you are going to open those gorgeous thighs for me while I show you what you do to me.” He tracks a finger over my temple, pushing a stray, damp strand of hair behind my ear.
With a sickening touch gliding over my skin, he walks down the side of the bed and widens my legs.
I gasp for a useful lungful as tears burn behind my eyes.
He sits on the chair at the desk, facing me. As his gaze drifts over my bare body, goosebumps flood my skin, and he moans, closing his eyes. With an erratic shake of his head, he stands, pulling the chair further back before sitting at the end of the bed. His focus is solely on my wide-open legs, my pussy now bare for him.
I tug on the cuff above my head.
