Page 21

“Are we celebrating or commiserating?” I joke.

“Celebrating, always. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? For me?”Maybe it’s that he’s staying.“You know I love surprises.”

I really do. I hate when people spoil movies and the end of a book. You have to enjoy the little things in life and those so happen to include surprises of all kinds.

Warren presses his way into the store and closes the door behind him. His body taking up all the available space. In the past I would find excuses to be close to him, sit by him, lean in to look at something over his shoulder, stand close to him in line. Always wanting to reach out and touch him, but unable to. Now however, I don’t have to because he comes to me. Leaning in he presses a kiss to my lips that I’ll dream about for years.

“Well, I hope you’ll like my surprise,” he says in between kisses.

My brain’s gone a bit fuzzy. Kisses from Warren will do that, but I notice he’s brought a bag with him as well. He usually doesn’t bother with an overnight bag but there’s a small black bag slung over his shoulder.

“Is it in the mysterious bag?”

“Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“How about we go upstairs, and you can show me now?” I suggest. I’ve closed everything up for the store and there’s a secondary door to the interior staircase leading up to my apartment, so we don’t even have to go back outside.

“Sounds perfect.”

I lead Warren up to my apartment and check on the wood burning stove, ensuring there’s plenty of fuel to keep us warm for hours. I don’t want to interrupt whatever surprise he has for me because I need to add more wood to the stove.

“Okay, so what’s the surprise?” I ask as I watch him carefully set the bag on my dining table. Hopefully it’s not breakable.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now. Something I’d like to do before I leave.”

My heart sinks a little at the mention of his impending departure barely twenty-four hours from now. I try to hold my smile in place, but he can tell my smile is a little more forced than before. Still, he goes on.

“Something I hope we’ll both enjoy. I think you will. There’s this thing called shibari. It has other names and lots of technical terms, but the gist of it is that it’s Japanese artistic, sensual, rope bondage.”

That was not at all what I was expecting him to say. Although not completely out of character. I’d noticed his appreciation for rope and how he liked to tie my wrists and restrain me. It’smostly been minimal and playful, but I have a feeling this won’t be. The idea is…tantalizing.

“And the surprise is?”

The corner of his lips quirk and his eyes soften as he watches me, reaching into his bag.

“I was hoping you would let me tie you up. Properly.”

From the bag he produces a carefully wound ocean blue rope. It looks smooth and glossy, like it’s been oiled or something. No random coarse fibers sticking out like a regular rope would. The color reminds me of the water in the bay. Crystal blue and endless.

Warren holds the rope reverently in both hands, patiently waiting for my reply.

“How much of me do you want to tie up? Is it like tying my wrists and ankles to the bed?”

“Not even close. I want to bind your entire body in my rope. I use special knots and rope to create a pattern on your skin. If you’re uncomfortable with being immobile I can tie the rope in a way where you can still move and use your arms and legs. But the most common use is to restrict movement. To put precise pressure on your body. Lots of people don’t even consider it sexual. It can be an art, done for anxiety and other purposes.

“I will admit though, I like the control, and it is very sexual for me.”

I step closer to inspect his rope. I’ve used rope on boats my whole life, and although it’s smoother than basic rope you would find at a hardware store. I’m not sure how comfortable I would be with it wrapped around my entire body.

“Can I touch it?” I ask when I’m within reaching distance.

“Of course. I want you to be as comfortable with it as possible. And know I would never do anything that would injure you. If anything doesn’t work for you or is uncomfortable you tell me. And of course there’s always your safe word.”

“Jelly fish.”

“Exactly.” Warren’s voice has gone deep and husky as he watches me reach out and run my finger along the silky-smooth surface of the rope.