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My heart pounds harder. "No."

"I've been gone for three weeks, and you've not written anything?" he accuses.

"It's not that easy."

"Well, you said I was the pressure. I removed it. Why don't you have a notebook of songs?"

"Riggs, I said I was sorry and didn't mean it."

"Sure you did," he claims and slides past me.

I follow him and tug on his arm. "Riggs!"

He spins into me. "What, Blakely? Am I pressure whether I'm here or not? Am I your excuse if you fail?"

I stare at him for a minute. It hits me how broken he is, even though I'm the one he always tries to break. It saddens me. Riggs is more broken than any man I've ever met.

I soften my tone, admitting, "The only person whose fault it will be if I fail is mine. I'm sorry I acted how I did. It's amazing what you've done for me."

His face hardens further.

"I mean it. Stay. I need you. You can't keep staying away from me like this."

He steps closer, dragging his fingertip down my cheek. "What do you need me for, Blakely?"

I lift my chin and square my shoulders. "I need from you whatever it is you need from me," I declare, my voice shaking.

"That's a paradox," he states.

"One you know makes sense," I claim.

Silence fills the air, and tension burns through the room like a hurricane.

I cave, restating, "I need you. All of you. I'm not doing well without you."

The darkness deepens to the point I can see the shift. He takes my hand, leads me to the piano, then picks me up. He sits me on the crystal top, ordering. "Kneel."

"On this?" I ask.

He traces the skin above my collar, commanding, "Assume your position, pet."

It only takes me a few seconds of debate. If this brings Riggs back, I'll do what it takes. I obey, kneeling, my spine straight, my ass on my calves, my head bowed.

He leaves the room but isn't gone long. When he returns, he orders, "Get on all fours."

I reposition my body, and he takes a pair of scissors and cuts my sundress, bra, and panties. He drags the smooth part of the blades down my spine, and I shudder. He kisses my ass cheek, murmuring, "Do you think I could hurt you, pet?"

I answer honestly. "You scared me last night."

"Sir," he adds.

I take a deep breath, repeating, "You scared me last night, Sir."

He keeps his lips on my spine and widens my thighs with his forearms until my body is only a few inches off the crystal. He asks, "So the answer is yes?"

Is it?

I confess, "I don't know. I want to say no."