Page 189 of Indulge
I thought as much. Which explains Rowan’s mood.
I offer Reggie a grin. I bet he’s itching to spank me even harder.
“Okay, well, it’s time for the next one.”
“This one’s a trust game,” I say, tracing my fingers along the arm of the black leather cross on the wall. “My brother Kane used to teach his team exercises like this when he was in the military.”
I can feel their attention sharpen.
“Kane always said trust is the purest form of surrender. Not the romantic kind. The survival kind. When you let someone close enough to hurt you and believe they won’t.”
My hand drifts down the leather straps, each buckle clicking softly under my touch.
“He also taught me how to throw knives.”
That gets their attention.
Two pairs of eyes flick up, the air shifting from curiosity to caution.
I smile. “And lucky for us, Conan keeps a few in his cabin.”
I move to the second cross.
Reggie opens his mouth, probably to tell me I’ve lost my mind, but I lift a hand to stop him from saying something dumb.
“No talking during the trust test,” I warn. “You’re not in charge here.”
Rowan’s lips twitch and Reggie just watches me with that unreadable calm that’s never actually calm.
“Step forward,” I order softly.
They do.
The sound of leather sliding through buckles fills the room as I fasten them—wrists, ankles, chest.
Rowan’s pulse jumps under my fingertips when I tighten the strap across his ribs.
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t flinch.
He just breathes me in.
“Good,” I whisper. “You trust me.”
I move to Reggie next.
He holds still, but his muscles are tight, jaw locked.
Always pretending he’s fine when he’s two seconds from exploding.
When they’re both secured, I walk to the table in the corner.
Three knives gleam under the low light.
I pick one up by the handle, testing the balance.
“I should’ve brought my lipstick blade,” I muse.
Rowan arches a brow—still silent, but I can hear the question in his grin.
