Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Less concerned about Brendon escaping—what was the point when I was going to release him anyway?—I opened the door without my usual caution, then stopped in my tracks at the sight before me.

Shirtless and sweaty again, Brendon barely glanced at me between pushups. The man was really committed to his work-out routines.

Without bothering to close the door behind me, I edged around him and sat awkwardly in one of the chairs, my gaze firmly latched onto the bookcase. Could I see how hard his muscles were working out of the corner of my eye? Yes. Was I going to let him know I was watching? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

He reached whatever number he was aiming for and pushed himself into a standing position. “Did you have a chance to speak to the Good Wizard?”

Still a bit dazed, it took me a moment to recover. “Yes!” Clearing my throat, I replied more calmly, “Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

Well, he suggested that I marry you, except I kidnapped you, so I have no idea how to bring that up.“Uh … he said marriage was the only solution.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Brendon’s neck, over his chest, down and around the hills and valleys of his muscles. I couldn’t look away, my mouth as dry as the Desolated Lands would be if the spell really broke and evil mages rushed in. I shook my head, forcing myself back to the issue at hand. “Since that’s the case, you can—”

“We’ll put our heads together and figure it out for ourselves.”

If he put his head anywhere near me in this state, we weren’t going to be doing much talking.

“Let me take a shower first.”

My internal thoughts were screaming: No, no, bad idea, absolutely terrible idea. Somehow my mouth formed the words: “Sure, go right ahead.”

He never even looked at the open front door as he went into the bathroom. The shower turned on, and my head filled with images of the water cascading over him. His hands, lathering up soap, caressing his chest, then lower, tracing a long trail down …

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably and grabbed the nearest pillow, clutching it in my lap until my knuckles turned white.

His shower was thankfully quick and disappointingly short. Actually, he spent longer in there with the water off than with it on. It suddenly occurred to me that he might not have any fresh clothes to change into and he was probably unsure how to proceed without walking in front of me naked.

Jumping up, I ran upstairs to grab him another set of clothes. At the bedroom doorway I froze and stared at the scene in sheer horror. All of the contents of my special trunk—every goddamn piece—were spread out on the bed, like a display at a museum.

“You have quite the collection.”

I spun around with a shrill yelp. “Stop sneaking up on me!”

He gave me an innocent look. “But it’s so easy. You never bother to guard your back. Though maybe that’s not true, I did notice some things missing.” He approached the bed, and only then did I realize he was fully dressed. I totally wasn’t disappointed about that at all.

“What’s missing?” I asked as I scanned the bed again.

He idly picked up a red cat-o-nine tails, fiddling with the soft hearts on the end. “You’ve got whips, paddles, ropes, candles, even a collar. But no dildos?”

I blushed and muttered, “I’m not a bottom.”

“Really?” He arched a brow.

“Why is that so surprising?”

“You just always seem to enjoy it when I—”

“Stop, stop, please just stop talking.” If he continued, my face would grow so hot that I’d set the whole tower aflame. I sat on the bed, then realized one of the toys was poking me in the ass and shoved it away petulantly.

The bed shifted as Brendon sat down next to me, close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him, but far enough away that he wasn’t crowding me. “Have you tried it?”

“Have you?” I snapped back.

“Yeah, a few times.”

The admission surprised me, and I slowly raised my head to look at him. “And you … enjoyed it?”

His lips quirked in mild amusement. “She was a professional, so she certainly knew what she was doing.”

I pictured Brendon on his hands and knees, back arched, face flushed, and eyes closed in ecstasy. Or would he prefer to be on top? From what I’d seen so far, he seemed to like to be in control. I pictured him choosing his own pace and the depth of each thrust, equal parts triumphant and aroused.

It was exactly how I’d imagined myself for my first time, and nowhere near what had actually happened. Mouth dry, I whispered, “I tried once, with my first partner. He wanted to switch things up, but he was definitely not a professional. It hurt like hell, nothing about it felt good.” He’d left shortly after that, and while a lot of outside factors led to our breakup, I’d always kind of wondered if that incident had made his decision easier.

“Wasn’t the fun kind of pain, huh?” Brendon asked as he picked up a whip and twirled it over his fingers. “Is this magical too?”

“The bruises fade within an hour,” I explained, snatching it from his hand and tossing it into the trunk.

His brow furrowed slightly. “I thought half the point of a whip was to leave marks.”

“They can be a lot of fun during play, but have you ever tried to sit through a court session with a black-and-blue ass?”

“Personally, no,” he replied with a simple shrug. He looped his finger through the collar and held it up. “What about this?”

I blushed and grabbed for it, but he leaned backwards, holding it out of my reach. I caught myself with a hand on the bed before almost falling on top of him, then cursed my own reflexes. Straightening up, I replied primly, “Not everything is magical.”

He gave me a slightly evil smile at that non-answer. “Can I see you with it on?”

My lips parted in shock. Did he really want to … with me? I flashed back to him using the ropes against me, trying to escape. Was this just another escape attempt? Maybe he genuinely hadn’t seen the door standing open, and he thought the only way to get out of the tower was to seduce me.

And gods dammit, I was so tempted to let him.

But even more than that, I wanted it to be real. It couldn’t be as long as he thought he was my prisoner. “You can go,” I blurted out.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

I stood and gathered up an armful of toys and tools, focusing hard on the task. “Since marriage is the only solution, there’s no real reason to keep you in the tower anymore.” I dumped stuff into the trunk without bothering to organize anything. “You can go back to the castle, switch places with Kit, and marry—” I choked on the rest of the sentence.

Brendon grabbed my arm and turned me around to face him. I stared down at the floor rather than at him. “You’re sure?” he demanded. “You don’t want to stall a little longer? Maybe the wizard isn’t the only one who could help.”

I sighed and carefully extracted myself from his grip. Sitting on the bed, I looked down at my tightly clasped hands. “We don’t have time. I got bit by an imp in the marketplace the other day—”

“Is that what happened?”

Confused, I looked up at him. “What?”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “You looked sick the other day. And then there’s the—” He drew a circle in the air around my face.

Fuck, I’d forgotten about the rash. He’d been nice enough not to bring it up until now. “That was unrelated.” He didn’t need to know about the love potion. We were talking about evil mages, not whatever weirdo had drugged my tea. “Anyway, on top of the imp, a friend of mine said a mage was seen in town. If the protection spell is already degrading, we don’t have time to find another solution. It’s marriage, or let the kingdoms fall to evil.”

“I see.” Brendon stepped toward the door, eyes still locked on me. “So, you want me to leave and marry”—there was a long pause—“Francesca?”

God, I could not imagine him and Franny together. Between her growing affection for Kit, and my growing … whatever for Brendon, that was literally the worst possible outcome. “I—”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want—”

He took a step forward, his eyebrow rising in inquiry.

“To make any decisions for you.”

A soft smile touched his lips. “That’s certainly a change of pace.”

I put my head in my hands and groaned, “I know. I’m sorry. I fucked everything up.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Can you just go please? I want to clean the rest of this up, but you shouldn’t hang around here any longer.”

Another long silence followed, and then the soft sound of footsteps walking downstairs.

I sighed in relief even as my gut clenched in despair.

Picking up everything else, I began cleaning up the room. I still had a candle and one of the paddles in hand when a loud yelp startled me, followed by Brendon shouting, “What the fuck?”