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want it. She can pretend like she’s unaffected but I’m learning every secret she has. Every tell. Every sign.
    She can’t hid from me.
    I don’t want her to.
    I want all of her. Her passion. Her fear. Her desire. Her need. Her wants. Her love. I want it all and if she’s too chicken shit to give it to me, I’m going to take it.
    “We’re just getting started here,” I warn her. And there’s no time like the present to show her exactly what I mean. I sit up and roll off the bed and pick up the bag I tucked in the corner.
    Amy blinks sleepily from the bed, looking like a well-fed kitten. “Where are you going?”
    And that note of uncertainty in her voice, the little girl lost feeling that she tries to pretend doesn’t exist, is like a stake in the heart. I hate she’s felt that way but no more. Not while I’m here.
    “We’re going for a ride,” I correct her. There’s no me or her. Just us.
    She looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s late Flint and I’m worn out.” She huffs out a small laugh. “And you were here, wearing me down.”
    “Don’t really care that it’s late Amy.” I pull out the gear I had made for her. A pair of leather pants, a cut, and a tight-fitting t-shirt.
    She looks at the gear with confused eyes. Amy’s idea of dressing down is slacks and a silk blouse sans the little coats she seems to wear everywhere even when it’s a blistering hundred degrees in the shade during those hot July days.
    “What’s all this?”
    “I told you,” I reply patiently. “We’re going for a ride. The leathers will ward off the chill and help protect you if, God forbid, I have to lay down my bike because some dumbshit motorist doesn’t know the rules of the road.”
    “It’s so late, though, and I have work in the morning.” Her heart’s not in her protest.
    “I’m pretty sure your calendar is clear.”
    This statement gets her ass in gear or at least out of the bed. She yanks a filmy wisp of a thing from her dresser and pulls it on. The silky garment does little conceal her ripe body.
    She watches me move around the room with narrowed eyes. “Did you collude with my secretary to clear my calendar?”
    “Yup,” I wander into her bathroom. “Now you should come in here and tell me what bottles I should stick in my bag because I don’t know one cream from the other. It all smells good though. You can spread that shit on my dick after the ride and jack me off,” I comment to tweak her nose.
    I know I’ve hit the right note when she stomps inside the bathroom and rips the little glass pot out of my hand. She sets it on the counter a little harder than necessary.
    “What’s going on? How long have you two been working on this. Tell me now and don’t leave anything out.” Her voice rings with authority which turns me on.
    “Jesus, you’re hot. That mouth of yours is making me horny.” I plant a hand on her ass and pull her hard against me. “I could take you again, right here in the bathroom. I’d bend you over that sink and you could watch your tits bounce in the mirror as I pound into you from behind.”
    Color paints her high cheekbones. Amy might look all buttoned up but she’s got a dark side—one she hasn’t allowed out but that’s going to change.
    Now that she’s untied and wearing her ridiculous garment, I can see that she’s feeling more confident. I like a sure Amy, but to carry out my plan, it’s better that she be off balance.
    Fortunately I know just what to do.
    I whip her around in one practiced move and kick her feet apart. She cries out in surprise and braces her hands on the sink’s edge.
    “Let me up Flint,” she demands.
    Yeah, she needs a reminder of who’s in charge in the bedroom here. I grab the collar of the robe she just donned and jerk it down her arms. A twist and tie later, her hands are bound behind her back.
    “You look real pretty all tied up.”
    She jiggles her bound wrists. “You had your fun, Flint. Now it’s time