But that turned out to be a lie. Because after stripping off her clothes and sliding into bed, she waited. And waited. The clock minutes seemed to drag. And with each one, she got more annoyed. And then angry. And then downright pissed. She knew he hadn’t left because she could hear him downstairs, watching television, probably eating more of her ice cream. But she couldn’t go and see what exactly was taking so long because if she left the room, he would keep his threat and leave.
So, she waited more.
Her vision began to blur after looking at the clock so often. And right past midnight, she couldn’t focus any longer. It’d been a long day and her anger had burned the last remaining bits of her energy. This was some sort of test. She mentally told Lane to fuck off, but she wasn’t going to fail it.
Sometime before one, she fell asleep.
Chapter 11
Lane stared down at the woman curled on her side in the bed. Her shoulder rose and fell with steady breaths, and the thin sheet draped over her revealed every gorgeous dip and curve of her naked body. In sleep, her face was blessedly relaxed, the usual frustrated wrinkle in her brow gone for a little while. He wanted to reach out and run his thumb over the smooth spot, but he kept his hands at his side.
He hone
stly hadn’t expected her to make it as long as she did. It’d been a test, but a particularly hard one for her. She thought she wanted control. She thought she wanted to dictate every little thing, but that was what she did every day and it wasn’t satisfying her. It was too easy. People were too easy to push away or cow into submission. And that response from everyone else told her exactly what she suspected—that she wasn’t worth the trouble of pushing back. That’d they’d rather comply than deal with her.
She was trying to prove Lane fell into that category. She’d threatened to pull the plug on this because he hadn’t done things her way. He needed to show her that her method wasn’t going to work with him and that it wasn’t what she really wanted anyway. So he was testing her. She probably didn’t realize that she was testing him right back.
What are you going to do about it, Lane Cannon? That was what she asked in every move she made with him. But he saw through that haughty facade. She gravitated to him despite their personalities clashing because she wanted the challenge. In school, she would’ve never taken filler classes. She’d look for the teacher who would make her work, the subject matter that would push her capabilities. She needed that in bed, too.
She also needed to trust that he could give it to her, that he wouldn’t be scared off by her attitude and defensive tactics. So he’d waited her out. Now, this was his prize. Seeing the all-powerful doctor as vulnerable as anyone could be. Naked. Asleep. No shield or barbed words to protect her.
Not that he blamed her for the shields. She hadn’t told him all the reasons they were there, but he’d gotten a glimpse tonight. Her ex-husband hadn’t just betrayed her, he’d humiliated her, abused a sacred trust. Used her for some sick-minded game or ego-stroking. Lane didn’t know the guy, but he already wanted to nut-punch him.
Lane stepped closer to the bed, feeling a bit like a creeper for watching her sleep but unable to help himself. She was always beautiful, but in a sophisticated, untouchable way. That cool attitude was actually a turn on for him. She wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a challenge. But like this, she seemed ten years younger. Sweet, even. He glanced at the bedside table. She had a notepad and pen next to her cell phone—ever the efficient doctor—but he smiled when his eyes skimmed over the note.
Go to hell and burn long, Lane.
He chuckled under his breath and ran his fingers over the deep scratch of the writing. Ah, a love note. Lucky for her, making them both burn was exactly what he had in mind.
The pressure on her wrists woke Elle. Her nose itched and when she went to scratch it, her arm didn’t cooperate. Her eyelids flew open and she blinked in the filmy darkness.
She was on her stomach, cheek against her pillow, and her arms were above her head. Something soft but restrictive was around her wrists and she was blindfolded. She yanked but the bed frame just squeaked in response. Her heartbeat kicked up. “What the hell?”
“Stay still or you’re going to hurt yourself.”
Lane.
The quiet voice in the dark was enough to break through some of the fog of sleep and reassure her that she wasn’t in some nightmare, but it wasn’t enough to calm her down. She yanked again. “What are you doing?”
A light smack to her thigh had her words catching in her throat. Lane pressed his hand against the spot he’d popped. “I said, stay still. Play nice and I’ll be nice. You always want me to do things your way. So, lady of the house, meet your stranger.”
“My str—” Oh. Oh. Her words from earlier in the night came back to her. The movie she’d joked she’d want to reenact. “I didn’t mean—”
He smacked her again, this time on her ass and with more oomph. The sting burned, but also sent tendrils of hot sensation over her skin. Her fingers curled into her palms as she fought not to squirm.
“Next time, be careful what you wish for, then. Because now you’re mine. Just try to escape or fight me and see what happens.”
Mine. The words should’ve bothered her, but she could tell he was slipping into a role. A dangerous one, but one that was pushing hot buttons she’d rather not analyze. She found herself wanting to fall into her own part as well. She tried to pull her arms free. “You’re sick. Tying me up while I’m sleeping.”
“Mmm, is that your professional opinion, doctor?” The bed dipped and he clamped a big hand over her wrists, pinning them down. He straddled her thighs, his weight pressing her into the bed. “I told you not to fight.”
“I told you I’m not one of your submissives.”
A quiet laugh rumbled through him, vibrating through her as well. “Never have truer words been spoken. That doesn’t mean I can’t make you submit. I’m bigger than you. And meaner.”
He ran a hot finger over her tailbone and down, lazily tracing the crease of her ass. The simple touch sent electricity racing over her. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted to feel good. To feel him. But as usual, that little voice inside her wouldn’t let her give in. She tried to buck beneath him. “Get off.”
The bed springs groaned, but there was no dislodging the beast of a man straddling her. His finger teased lower. “Get off? That’s the idea. At least for me.”