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My hand shakes a little, but I will the trembling to stop. I pick up the gun, point it away from me, and lay it on the velvet table in my cubicle. My hands hang by my sides awkwardly.
“Good. Now lean over the table on your forearms.”
I blink. “Lean over the table?” What the hell does that have to do with holding a gun?
His icy blue stare pins me in place. “Lean. Over. The. Table.”
I turn away from him, shaking, as I do what he tells me. I hear him walk up to me right before I feel his heat at my back. I still when he leans over me, pushing me against the table while he reaches for something I didn’t see before–small leather loops on the table, no doubt meant to secure weapons when they’re not in use. Only it isn’t the gun he’s securing.
“Cain! What are you doing?” I hate that my voice shakes. Hate that he’s scaring me.
Without a word, he slips my wrist in the first leather harness, then the next.
Click.I can’t move my arms. I’m bent over the velvet table, my wrists secured in front of me.
“The target range is soundproof, Violet. No one will hear you if you scream. So go ahead. Scream to your little heart’s content. I’ll enjoy this more if you do.”
If he didn’t have his hand on my lower back just now, I’d be terrified. As it is, I wouldn’t say I’m exactly at ease…
I hear the click of metal, a swish. Is he… unfastening his jeans? What?
My hands shake, and my belly quivers. I…what will he…
“Repeat rule number one, Violet.”
I love the way he says my name.
I swallow, my voice still distant even as the ringing fades. “Always assume a gun is loaded.”
“Maybe this will help burn it into your memory.” There’s the sound of a swish, then a line of fire lights up my ass. I gasp, too shocked to do more than that. I whip my head around to see him standing behind me, his belt folded over in his grip.
Heat fans my core while indignation rises.
I could tell him off. I could tell him to go fuck himself and keep his big hands to himself. But then I’m fucked. Then I’m back to square one, where I’ve been for so long the very thought of going back there makes me feel desperate. No. No, I can’t walk away from him, not now. Not when I’ve come so close to what I need.
I catch his gaze for one heart-stopping moment. I’m the utter focus of his attention. A bomb could go off beside him right now and his attention wouldn’t waver.
His icy voice shatters the silence. “Did I give you permission to turn around?”
I hold his gaze. Is he… into this?
Am I?
I shake my head wordlessly. He makes a twirly motion with his finger and points. “Then turn back around and stay bent over that table.” I didn’t even realize I’d stood up, hunched over as my wrists are still secured.
Shaking, I do what he says.
“Tell me rule number two.”
I cringe, knowing he’s going to punish me now, somehow craving and dreading it at the same time. “Always wear ear protection.”
Again, the whir of leather and another searing strike. I cry out this time, but before I can recover there’s an additional lash of leather.
Rule number two. Two strikes.
I bite my lip. Even though it hurts, I know a man as strong as he is could tear the skin off my back if he whipped me at full strength. He’s moderating his strength, by a lot.
“Earmuffs on.” He’s right up next to me when he slides them over my ears. The ringing stops, but all other sounds are muffled.
