Page 92 of Trust

Cash arches a brow, steps closer and puts one hand on either side of me on the counter, caging me in. His mouth is barely an inch from mine. “You know the answer to that.”

I blink at him. “Then why did you send me away the other night?”

“Because I didn’t think you were ready.”

I hate how sure he sounds.

“I am,” I say before I can stop myself. It’s almost childish how much I need him to know that. Maybe it’s the hour, or the way the night hushes the world. Maybe it’s the countdown ticking in the back of my mind, how little time we have left.

“Are you?” he asks, one corner of his mouth lifting.

Instead of answering, I put my hand on the nape of his neck, rise onto my toes, and close the distance between our lips. It’s not just a kiss. It’s a kiss that says I mean it.

His body stays still at first, letting me take the lead, then his tongue answers in kind.

“Do I come across as not ready?” I ask confidently.

He exhales an amused laugh, but it’s not mocking. It’s affectionate. He opens the belt of my robe to find me in my panties and a tank underneath. I swallow hard but hold his gaze.

“Chris had you here, right?” he murmurs, the back of his hand gently brushing my pubic bone, “What if I wanted you there?” He snakes his arms around me under the robe and draws me in. At an agonizingly slow pace, his index finger skims down my spine all the way to my tailbone and then a little further.

His touch steals the breath from my lungs. I blink, unsure if I even understand what he’s referring to.

As realization hits, my eyes widen and a cold ripple courses through me. Chris’s teasing earlier turned the world light and easy, but this? This is entirely different. I didn’t expect Cash to be this... intense.

My shoulders slump. I look down, then away.

I don’t know what to say. Everything inside me is an aching mess. This is too much, too fast. I’ve gotten in over my head.

He eases away, giving me space. “That’s what I mean,” he says with conviction. “We’re not there yet.”

“Why would you want to do that to me?”

“It’s not about doing it to you. It’s about doing it with you,” he explains. “Nothing compares to the way someone surrenders to the unknown, to the rising intensity or even the crack of pain. It’s the ultimate act of trust. Experiencing that with you would mean everything.”

I absorb his words. They stir curiosity instead of fear. What he says is dangerous and electrifying. A warning and a dare tangled together. It’s like standing too close to the edge of a cliff. Every instinct screams to step back, to play it safe, but there’s this magnetic pull dragging you forward. You know it could hurt. You know you could regret it. But the thought of not doing it feels worse than the fall ever could.

His gaze wanders down my body, stopping at the hanging ends of my robe’s belt. He takes them in his hands and searches my eyes. As if reading my thoughts, he says, “Do you want a taste of what I’m talking about?”

My stomach flips. “Depends,” I say, more stiffly than I intend.

Cash studies me for a moment. “I’ll take this,” he says, holding up one end of the belt, “and I’ll tie your hands behind your back.”

I frown, the idea blindsiding me. Inside my head, sirens wail and a red light spins wildly.

“Then I’ll stroke your arms, your face, your neck, and I’m going to kiss you.”

He stops talking.

“That’s it?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry. “Why would you want to tie me up for that? I’d let you do all that without—”

When his hand rises and touches my cheek, the rest of my words dissolve into silence.

“That’s where the trust comes in,” he says softly. “You trust that I’ll do exactly what I said I would. Nothing more. That’s the point.”

“I thought Chris was more the controlling type.”

He leans in and whispers, “If Chris were part of this, we wouldn’t need restraints.”