Indie taps my chest. "We're almost there."
"And?"
"Down."
"Is that an order?"
"Pretty please."
"You really think adding pretty is going to help your case?"
"No. But I don't want to be too tired to fuck you properly."
I let her down.
She straightens. Takes my hand. "Will you tell me why?"
"You know why."
"Will you tell me anyway?" She runs her thumb over the space between my thumb and forefinger. "Please?"
"I shouldn't reward your begging."
"You should. You like it."
I do.
"If you reward me, I'll do it more. That's basic psychology." She presses her hands together. Mouths pretty please.
"That side of myself that comes out when I'm with you. I tried to keep it in a box for a long time. I tried to tell myself it wasn't there. That I didn't want those things. But I did. And I knew if I saw you, I'd realize that. I knew, if I saw you, I'd be desperate to fuck you."
"Were you?"
"Yes. But I was still trying to bury those desires."
"Are you now?"
It's a good question. She's only asking because alcohol has dissolved her inhibitions.
Mine are weak.
But they're still there.
I promised I'd be honest with her. If it mattered. Even if it hurt her.
That means being honest with myself.
"I can't," I say. "Not when I'm around you. It's impossible."
Her eyes meet mine.
"Other times… but not when I'm around you."
"I know what you mean." She stops in front of my building. "Last time, I stood out here for twenty minutes. I was scared. Of pushing you. Losing you. Of how much I wanted it."
Fuck, she's doing it again. Pushing every one of my buttons without even trying.
"Even now, it scares me. How much I want it again. How much I want more." Her tongue slides over her lips. "When you said I had no idea how brutal you can be, did you mean that? Or was it part of the scene?"
"I meant it."
Her chest heaves with her inhale. "What if I want to find out?"
"Do you?"
She nods.
"What exactly?"
"Whatever you meant." She runs her fingers over my tie. "Whatever you want to do with me."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ty
Whatever you want to do with me.
My thoughts scatter.
My judgment disappears.
Indigo is standing next to me, in front of my flat—our flat—asking for the things I've pushed deepest.
Asking me to look inside her, find the things she's pushed deepest.
The things she can barely admit she wants.
"Let's talk upstairs," I say.
She looks to the security guard inside. Nods. Follows me into the building.
He compliments her outfit. Asks about our plans for the weekend.
She thanks him. Winks as she says we'll stay busy somehow.
Then she follows me into the elevator.
It's too small. There isn't enough room for all the things I want to do to her.
Her hand brushes mine. "He can't hear, can he?" She motions to the camera in the ceiling.
"No."
"But he could watch?"
"Yes."
"If I asked…"
"Not here. You'd be too embarrassed to look at him tomorrow."
Her laugh is soft. "Probably."
"Probably?"
She nods.
"Should we go downstairs. Tell him what we're going to do?"
"He knows that we're going to have sex."
"Are we?"
Her teeth sink into her lips. "Are you going to say I'm too drunk again?"
"What makes you think I'll say something else?"
She traces the neckline of her jumpsuit. Stops at her breast. Pulls the stiff fabric aside just enough to reveal the leather harness crisscrossing her torso.
Just enough to show me she's not wearing a bra.
Blood rushes to my cock.
"You can say it," she says. "You can always say no too. That doesn't mean I have to make it easy for you."
"You're baiting me."
"By wearing only a harness under my outfit?"
Fuck. "Nothing else?"
"I took off my underwear in the bathroom." She laughs. "That's not making me sound less drunk, is it?"
The elevator stops at our floor. I press my palm into her lower back. Lead her into the hallway.
Her fingers curl into my shoulders as I unlock the door.
She's impatient.
And defiant.
Partly, because she's pissed.
It's not a good idea to do this with her drunk. Especially when she's asking me to push her limits.
"Sit." I motion to the couch.
She steps into the house. Slips out of her shoes. Bends to pick them up. "Just in case."
I pour two glasses of water. Bring both to the couch.
She takes one. Drinks with greedy sips. "Thanks."
"Drink all of it." I take a long sip. Set my glass on the coffee table. Stay on my feet.
She looks up at me with need in her deep blue eyes. "What did you mean? When you said it?"
I swallow hard. "That I could hurt you."
"How?"
"With my belt. A riding crop. A whip."
Her pupils dilate.
"My hands."
"Like last time?"
"Harder. Rougher."
"Do you want to?"
"Yes."
I expect her to recoil, to look at me with disgust, but she doesn't.
She flames red with desire. Sucks in a shallow breath. Forces an exhale.
"What exactly?" she asks. "What exactly do you want?"
"Everything."
"That's not a real answer."