Page 92 of Let’s Be Real

Something real.

Something I could feel and taste and touch.

A new volunteer took the stage, drawing my attention. Her long, lithe body was unmistakable. The lights overhead lit Samantha’s cornflower hair like a halo, stealing my breath.

She was wearing a simple black bra and panties, and her hands were clutched together in front of her. At first, I thought she was nervous—the way she was worrying her hands. Then I noticed one thumb rubbing along the length of the opposite one—the place I’d found that soothed her.

I sat up straight, almost lifting out of my seat as Madam Cara wrapped rope around Samantha’s torso. She was speaking, but the rush of blood in my ears was far too loud for me to understand what she was saying.

Samantha’s expression was placid, and her eyes were closed. I wasn’t sure if she was zoned out or enjoying being bound this way.

I couldn’t stay in my seat any longer, but getting up hadn’t been a conscious decision. One moment, I was at my table. The next, I was at the side of the stage, close enough to now see the prickles of goose bumps along Samantha’s flesh.

Madam Cara stroked Samantha’s cheek and whispered words of encouragement. Samantha leaned into her touch, her lashes fluttering, her chest rising sharply.

My hands clenched at my sides. Not from jealousy, but something…

I should have been the one encouraging her. Telling her what a good job she was doing and how pretty she looked with her arms bound in front of her. How perfect the red rope looked against her skin. How well she was doing being a statue.

The rope corralled her, knotting her wrists together and traveling up her arms and around her shoulders. It mapped the curve of her lower breasts and surrounded her waist, crisscrossing in elaborate channels.

Samantha’s head fell back, and her entire body swayed like a ship in a storm. I didn’t do much thinking as I took the stage and pressed my hand to her back.

Her eyes opened, slow to focus on me. Even then, they were cloudy and far away. “Nate.”

“Samantha.” I nuzzled my nose into her hair, breathing her in for the first time in what felt like years. “Can I pick you up?”

She stared at me for a long beat before her eyes fell shut and she leaned into me.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She was a rag doll, completely pliant as I swept her into my arms, her head lolling on my chest.

Before I could walk away, Madam Cara said, “The knot on the base of her back—untie it and she will unravel.”

With a curt nod, I walked away, at first with no clue where I was going. Then I remembered the key in my pocket.

We were going to room ten.

Chapter Thirty-two

Nate

I barely noticed anything about the room once we were inside except for the warm glow coming from the sconces on the walls. I carried Samantha to the oversized bed, sitting against the padded headboard with her cradled in my lap. Her long legs curled to the side, and her head rested heavy on my shoulder.

“What do you want?” I asked, her hair flowing like silk between my fingers. “Do you want to be untied?”

“Not yet,” she mumbled. “Let me stay like this.”

Now that I had her in this room, I wasn’t sure what the next step was. Clearly, this had been Adrian’s plan—get me here so I could see Samantha this way—give me the key to this room so we could be alone. Now what?

Push her.

I kissed her temple. “You look so pretty like this.”

“You like me in ropes?” She raised her head, giving me her glazed eyes. “Why?”

“The ropes are incidental.” I took her chin between my fingers, holding her still. “I like seeing you at peace.”