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Hair wet and flip-flops on my feet, I grabbed my phone, the charger for it, my handcuffs and both of our apartment keys, and once again walked out of my apartment. After letting the dogs do their business in the side lot next to the apartment complex, I headed to Katy’s door and used the key she’d given me.

The key that I’d hooked to my own key ring and didn’t plan on giving back any time soon.

Her apartment was dark except for a small lamp that was lit next to the couch.

I whistled for the dogs to come in and they listened, Lou heading straight for the recliner as if that was where he was used to going.

Which, if he was anything like Sister, he probably did.

Locking the door up tight behind me, I said, “Y’all be good,” to the dogs and headed for the bedroom, being careful to keep my steps light so I didn’t scare her.

I needn’t have bothered.

When I entered the bedroom, it was to find her asleep on the bed, covers pulled up to her chin.

She was lying on her side, once again in the white nightdress—though, that was just an educated guess since the only thing I could see was her lower half which was peeking out from the blanket.

I cursed quietly, wondering what I should do now.

“Crap,” I muttered, setting my phone down on the nightstand, and the cuffs on the bed.

She didn’t wake up at either noise, and I felt my belly tighten in reaction.

I was going to have to cuff her to the bed while she was sleeping.

Shit!

After doing a quick search for a plug to use with my phone, I got everything set up before setting my alarm on my phone and connecting it to the charger. Tossing it down into the chair that the plug was next to, I turned back to the bed and placed my hands on my hips, wincing slightly at the burn on my hand.

It hurt. Pretty badly, in fact.

Tomorrow, riding on a motorcycle all day was really, really going to suck.

Luckily, I had gloves.

Otherwise, I seriously might’ve considered calling in sick.

Katy moved in the bed, exposing one arm and another foot, making all but one limb stick out from under the covers.

I bit my lip and decided ‘fuck it.’

Picking up the cuffs, I searched for a place to attach them, noticing now that her bed had nowhere, and I do mean nowhere, to attach them. The only other option was her nightstand, and even then, all she’d really have to do was pull the small drawer out and take it with her.

Tomorrow, I could install an anchor in the wall for her to attach her rope to, but tonight? Well, tonight, only one other option would do.

And seeing as my eyes were heavy as hell, and my two hours of sleep was upon me, I was thinking that I needed to just do what I had to do and get it over with.

Gingerly laying myself down on her bed, I stole one of the four pillows that were on this side of the bed, tossed the rest of them to the floor, and made myself comfortable.

Then I cuffed myself. Then her.

My right hand to her left.

The moment that the cuffs clicked into place, I felt something in my soul shift.

A rightness at having her there, tethered to me, unable to leave.

I wasn’t sure if it was a good emotion to have, or a bad.

Was it acceptable to enjoy having a woman handcuffed to me? Because if it wasn’t…I didn’t want to be right.

***

The first time she woke up during the night, I wasn’t awake.

The only reason I knew that she woke up at all was because the lamp was now on next to the bed, and she was practically yanking my arm off to get away from me. And the only reason I knew that she was yanking my arm off was because of the abrasions around my wrist from the metal digging into my skin.

Which led me to now, an entire five hours after I’d gone to sleep when she’d woken up a second time.

And this time, I was awake because my cock was awake. The only thing was, it took me a while to realize that she wasn’t awake, and by that point? Well…

“Katy?” I said softly, my hands automatically going to her hips.

“Yes, Logan?” she murmured, her mouth coming down until it was pressed against my bare chest.

When had my shirt gone missing?

I moved our handcuffed hands and felt a wad of fabric around the cuffed side of my forearm.

“I want you,” she whispered desperately. “I want you so bad I can taste it.”

Things inside of me tightened. My abs and gut went rock solid—and that had nothing to do with how hard my cock got.

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