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And right now, I hate them both. “I guess love is blind, isn’t it?”
“Or stupid.” He shrugged. “So between Stephen and Jake, my love life has been rather disastrous. In fact, Stephen…” He shifted a little on the bed, as if the conversation made him physically uncomfortable. “That bastard is the reason I prefer to give rather than receive.”
Ice water surged through my veins. “Fuck, is there anything he didn’t do to you?”
“He never forgot my birthday.”
“Oh, what a charmer.”
“So, after all the shit with those two,” he said, “I’m sure you understand why trust and I aren’t very good friends.”
“I’ve understood that from the begi
He trailed his fingers along my shoulder. “Zach, you get where I’m coming from, don’t you?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I do.” I understood, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. This was the first relationship I’d ever had that didn’t start with at least a basic foundation of trust. Neutrality, at least, the assumption that both parties were i
Before we even knew each other’s names, we’d distrusted each other. We’d started out in a way that couldn’t possibly be conducive to any kind of lasting relationship because this wasn’t supposed to become any kind of lasting relationship. We’d been thrown together by lies, drawn back together by physical attraction, and now teetered precariously because we lacked the one thing no relationship could function without.
I didn’t want to lose him, but I didn’t know how to keep him.
Nathan released a long breath and rubbed his eyes. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing and if he’d come to the same conclusions. It doesn’t matter how great a house is if it’s built on sand. Sooner or later, it’s going to come down. With a sick feeling twisting in my gut, I wasn’t sure if I should try to find a way to put us on solid ground, or just come to terms with the fact that it was a lost cause.
His hand sought mine and clasped it gently, ru
I swallowed hard. There has to be a way. Looking up at the ceiling, I chewed my lip, trying to think of something. Anything.
A thought crossed my mind that gave me pause. Did I dare? I cast a surreptitious glance at him, watching him stare at the ceiling, his brow knitted together. This could work or it could seriously blow up in my face, if he even agrees to do it.
This was something I’d never even thought to do without having someone’s complete trust, so I questioned the wisdom of even considering it. Then again, maybe the best way to get him to trust me was to convince him to jump in with both feet. To just do it.
Was it worth the risk?
“What’s wrong?” he asked after a long silence.
I sat up, swallowing hard. “You want to trust me, right?”
He exhaled. “I do, I definitely do.”
Leaning away, I reached for the nightstand drawer. “If you want to trust me…” When I came back, I looked at him, watching his eyes widen at the pair of handcuffs hanging from my outstretched hand. “Then trust me.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Nathan’s eyebrows lifted slowly as he eyed the handcuffs in my hand. Then he swallowed hard and his gaze rose to meet mine. Darted back to the cuffs. Back to me.
“Are you-” He glanced at the cuffs again. “Are you serious?”
I shrugged, the subtle movement jarring the handcuffs and making the chain rattle slightly. Nathan shivered.
“It’s your call, but I’m willing to if-” I hesitated. “If you trust me.”
He chewed his lip and neither looked at me nor the cuffs in my hand. My heart pounded. This was a bad idea. What the fuck was I thinking?
“Nathan-”
His eyes suddenly met mine, but the movement didn’t seem to be in response to his name. The way he drew a breath and shifted his posture-losing the uncertain expression in both face and body-struck me as coming from something in his mind. An end to an internal debate, a conclusion drawn.
Moistening his lips, he simply nodded.
“Are you sure?”
Another nod.
“First things first,” I said. “Safe word. You know how that works, right?”
“I say it, everything stops.”
“Exactly. Any ideas?”
He shrugged. “How about just ‘stop’?”
I shook my head. “Has to be something neither of us would use normally during sex at all. Like a color or something.”
Gri
“You know what I mean.” I laughed. “There has to be a big different between ‘stop that’ and ‘stop everything’.”
“Okay, how about…” He thought for a second. “Cigarette?”
I shrugged. “Works for me.” Nervous smoker. Thinking about smoking. Yeah, I’m definitely making him nervous. I cleared my throat. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“As sure as I’ll ever be.” He gave me a reassuring smile.
I inhaled slowly, hoping he didn’t see my own nervousness. Though he seemed less uncertain now, I couldn’t say the same about myself. Was this really a good idea? I’d never done BDSM unless I was one hundred percent certain that I had the other person’s trust. But in this case, I could think of no other way to gain his trust than to ask for it this way-make him take the leap of faith out of his comfort zone-and not take advantage of it.
Yet I was the one who was nervous. This could blow up in my face so easily, almost too easily. A wrong move. Pushing him too far. Even letting him sense my own worries. This could be five steps forward or ten back.
Do not fuck this up, I warned myself.
“Give me your hand,” I said quietly.
Without even flinching, he did so, extending the arm closest to me. I held his wrist gently, my eyes flicking back and forth between his arm and his face in search of a sign, any sign, that he wasn’t as comfortable with this as he let on, but he gave me nothing. No subtle recoil when I touched him, no goose bumps when the cuffs creaked open, no bob of the Adam’s apple or sweep of the tongue across his lips.
The knot in my gut loosened. Maybe he really is okay with this. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.
Then the cuff touched his wrist.
Twin shudders rippled up his arm and spine, ending in a sharp intake of breath. He swallowed hard, and his eyebrows jumped as his gaze darted toward the cuff, which was still open. Pressed against his skin, probably colder to him than it was to me, but open.
I looked at him, making no move to bind him until he gave me the go-ahead. “You okay?” I asked.
Warily, he eyed the space between us where hands and metal intersected, the crossroads that seemed to have caught him off guard. It was a simple thing, a thin piece of metal encircling his wrist, but it put him at my mercy. Under my control. For someone as unpleasantly acquainted with trust as Nathan, it was a simple but terrifying thing.
His arm didn’t move. Neither did my hands. I needed him to tell me whether to proceed or back away. I had a feeling he needed me to tell him which way to go. We’d reached an impasse. A stalemate.
His Adam’s apple bobbed again. The unspoken safe word hung in the air, waiting to be said.
I started to speak, but his other hand moved. Slowly, but not hesitantly, he reached across to where our hands were still in suspended animation. His fingers nudged mine away from the open cuff and panic lodged my breath in my throat. Shit, shit, I shouldn’t have-