Page 22 of Locked in Wonderland

Zeke lifted the phone to his ear.

“Wait,” I called.

He stared at me expectantly.

Was I really considering this?

Apparently, I was.

It wasn’t cheating. Not when I was doing it to find Warren. Because instinct told me that if the Harts got involved, my search for him would end right there. What was a little humiliation if it led to long-term happiness? It wasn’t like I was some innocent virgin.

“Which one of you?” I asked quietly. I looked from one grinning face to the other, my heart sinking. “Right.” They got their tattoos in pairs. I guess them tag-teaming people in their personal lives shouldn’t come as a surprise. I heaved out a breath. “What do you want?”

Zeke set the phone aside and moved behind the desk, opening the drawer. When he turned back around, metal glinted in one hand while dark fabric dangled from the other.

Handcuffs.

And a blindfold.

“We don’t want to fuck you.”

“No?”

Both men shook their heads. Funny how something you categorically didn’t want could still sound like an insult. I bit down on the urge to ask what was wrong with me and concentrated on being happy about it. “Then why the handcuffs?”

“We like them,” Zane said.

“We do,” Zeke agreed. “Makes things more fun.”

“And the blindfold?”

Another synchronized shrug.

Given that there were two of them and both looked capable of bench-pressing me without effort, it made little difference whether they handcuffed me. If they got rough, I wouldn’t stand a chance either way. I could argue, or I could just get it over with quickly. And if I were honest, the blindfold was kind of a relief. Not having to look at them while they did whatever they planned to do—my assumption being I’d end up blowing them both—would make it feel less intimate. Or at least I hoped so.

“Fine,” I said at last.

“Turn around,” Zeke instructed.

“Hands behind your back,” Zane added.

I obeyed, though a sharp spike of doubt hit the moment cold metal closed around my wrists. The click of the cuffs locking into place made it clear changing my mind wasn’t an option.

I turned back toward them. “You do have the key, right?”

Zane patted his pockets theatrically.

“Not funny.”

Zeke grinned and held up a tiny silver key before placing it deliberately on the corner of the desk. I stared at it, memorizing the exact position just as the blindfold slid into place. It didn’t leave everything completely dark. There was a small sliver of light visible through the small gap at the bottom. I tried to tilt my head back to see more than the carpet, but anything else remained frustratingly out of reach.

Then came silence. And waiting.

My pulse climbed steadily with every passing second.

“Are you still there?” I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Still here,” one answered.