Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,70

as I remain immobile.

Inside I’m flying, waving my arms, and laughing. Feeling vibrant and free.

So vibrant and free.

When I finally open my eyes again, Braden withdraws, panting.

I want to turn, to see him—his face glistening, his hair in disarray, his muscles taut and tight.

But I don’t move.

He told me not to move.

Finally, he touches my wrists and brings my hands down, turning me to face him. Without saying a word, he loosens the knot and removes his tie from my wrists. He rubs them. “Okay?”

I nod.

“Tell me.”

“Yes. I’m okay.”

“Good.”

Did he fuck Aretha Doyle against the window in his office? Anyone else? I want to ask, but I don’t. I won’t do anything to spoil this moment.

“Braden?”

“Hmm?”

“That was…amazing.”

He nods. “It was.”

Now what?

“I mean, really amazing. Anyone could have seen us.”

His lips curve slightly upward, as if he wants to smile but is holding back.

“What?” I ask.

“The windows are tinted on the outside, just like my apartment. We can see out, but no one can see in.”

“Oh.” Oddly, I’m a little disappointed. I almost wish he hadn’t told me.

“Did you like being bound?” he asks.

“I’m…not sure.”

“You’re not sure? You said yourself it was amazing.”

“I meant the sex.”

“Your wrists being bound was part of the sex.”

“It was everything, though. Being in your office. The unlocked door. The window.”

His blue gaze penetrates mine. “You like to be watched.”

Do I? “No, not really. It was more—”

“You just admitted it. You never cease to amaze me, Skye.”

“I guess I never thought about it. It was knowing anyone could walk in. The suspense. It was…”

“Erotic,” he says. “Erotic and a little frightening because you were taking a risk. Did you like being tied up?”

My cheeks warm. “Yes. And being tied up with your tie,” I say without thinking.

Why does stuff always sound funnier in my head?

“Would it surprise you to know I’d like to bind all four of your limbs, have you splayed out, naked, for me to do whatever I want?”

My body quivers as heat sparks from my core outward. Tied up? Really tied up?

My mind goes again to the strange contraption hanging from the ceiling above Braden’s bed. Is now the time to ask about that?

Maybe, except that I’m unable to form the words.

“Skye?”

“No,” I say, trembling.

“Good,” he says, “because I want to do all that to you and more. Have you ever been fucked anally, Skye?”

I gulp. I shouldn’t be surprised at his question. He’s made it clear he likes to play with my ass. “No.”

“Do you remember the instrument I stroked you with while you were blindfolded?”

“Yeah. It felt cool against me.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“How could I? I was blindfolded.”

His lips twitch. Again, I feel like he wants to smile but he’s holding back.

“It was an anal plug.”

“What’s that?”

“A tool. To prepare you for anal sex.”

“Braden, I—”

“Don’t worry. We won’t go there yet. Not until you’re ready.”

I may never be ready for that, but I don’t say so. I don’t want to say or do anything that might deter Braden’s interest in me.

“Go ahead and get dressed,” he says, “and we’ll go over your contract.”

As I dress, Braden picks up his shirt and opens a door on the opposite side of the room. At least a dozen crisp white shirts hang inside. He takes one, puts it on, and then stuffs his original shirt in what looks like a laundry bag.

Why does he have so many clean shirts in his office?

Does he fuck a lot of women in here?

I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That he’s promised to sleep only with me as long as we’re together.

But it does matter.

Jealousy slides through me, not in a raging way but subtler, like a tiny bug inside me that I can’t swat away.

Since Braden won’t talk to me about his past relationships with Addie and others, I fear the bug will never leave me in peace.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Back at the office, I electronically sign the contract that Braden approved and email it to Eugenie. I check email. Better check yesterday’s post again. I log in—

The password doesn’t work. I must have mistyped. Before I type it again, the phone rings.

“Addison Ames’s office.”

“Skye?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Eugenie. I just received the signed contract, and we’re thrilled to have you on board.”

“Great! I’m looking forward to it.”

“We’d like you to do the first post as soon as possible. Today if you can.”

“All right. Do you have any—”

The door to the office opens and then slams. In walks Addie, the Babbler in her clenched fist. “What the

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