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“Okay.”
“Are we good then?” He twitched an eyebrow, waited.
“We…are. Until you fuck up again.”
“So I can stick my dick in Emme now,” he drawled.
“What? No! No you can’t stick your dick in her.” I sat forward to make my point. “No more kidnapping anyone for either of us. Like none.” I drum-roll tapped the armrest of my lounger. “The last one didn’t go so well.”
“None? Okay. Does that mean you’re giving up the girl, because I sensed a certain thing going on there, between you two. As well as a thing between me and her.” He grinned, taunting me as he balled up his cup and tossed it toward a planter with nothing in it, scored a bullseye basket. “Yes!”
I stood and strolled a few yards down the patio, staring at where we’d had her strung up with her arms in the armbinder.
“Give her up?” I turned that concept over. We had her phone tapped. Knew where she worked and lived. Knew her kinks. “I guess not. However, you are still banned from her. Go near her, and I get out my castration knife.”
“A bit harsh.”
“Yes.”
He joined me. “You should stop stalking her through her phone. There doesn’t seem much use in letting her go then chasing her.”
“Well.” I shrugged. “If she does contact the cops, this way we get a warning. I might want to keep tabs on her for a while—”
“Visit her apartment and sniff her panties?”
That made me laugh. For the first time in a day, I felt our friendship linking us. It was on shaky ground but repairable.
As for Emme, I had this strange hankering to ask her out for a date then flip the script and make her do something disturbing to show her I could. I had the keys to her psyche. I knew what made her tick, and purr, and come, hard.
What I wasn’t sure of was how to approach her.
“What are you planning this week? Aside from listening in on her activities.”
“Go to for walks, fishing, the club. Drink a lot. Play some games. Want to join me?”
“I will if it fits in with work. Would you like me to suggest some work to you? I can refer some people?”
“Not yet. I want to keep my schedule open.” I squatted and picked up a few strands of her blond hair that must have been sheared off by the ropes when I tied or untied them. Forensics would have a ball here, as Emme had insinuated.
“I have to go hit the office.” His phone buzzed.
He’d sounded worried, so I looked up and found he was slipping his cellphone into his pocket.
“I don’t understand why you let her go.”
“Me neither.” Absentmindedly, I rubbed the strands in my finger and thumb, adding as an afterthought, “Maybe so I can see the real Emme, and let her see me?”
“Interesting, and likely to get you arrested the second you set foot in her apartment building.”
I was still thinking when I heard his car drive off.
