I used the bathroom first, taking a hot shower and tempting myself with the idea of sliding my fingers between my legs. Last night replayed in my mind like a dirty fantasy, but every moment had been real. Before I gave in to temptation, I shut off the water and stepped out with steam rising off my skin.

Last thing I wanted was to provoke him, so I followed his orders and dressed in a longer skirt to protect my legs from the cold. I was feeling good, the confrontation of yesterday diminished by our free-fall into bed last night. Still riding that wave, I was not prepared for the sight that greeted me in the living room. He sat on the couch dangling the same type of cuffs I’d used on Jax yesterday. Maybe even the same set.

I skidded to a stop, alarmed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You stole my gun and left the boat. You could’ve killed me when it went off in your tantrum.” He rose slowly and came toward me, cuffs gripped in his hands. “I’m not letting that slide.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Punish your ass when we get back. What else do you think I’m gonna do?”

Guess the honeymoon was over. “This is ridiculous.” I retreated another step, heading toward the other end of the sofa. “What if I don’t wanna go back?”

His mouth veered up in a lopsided, know-it-all-smirk. “You didn’t have permission to leave the boat, and you sure as fuck didn’t have my okay to take my gun and go all badass chick on Jax with it.” He gestured toward my hands. “Consequences, sweetheart. Turn the fuck around.”

“No way!” I zipped to the other side of the couch.

“Get over here now.”

Oh, he was pissed. The thin line of his lips captivated me, the gravelly timbre of his voice. Something primal in me responded, as it always did when he took that tone. Shit, I was wet already, and he hadn’t laid a finger on me.

“You want me over there?” I taunted, pointing to where he stood, primed to move in an instant.

“Stupid question, babe.” He held up the cuffs and dangled them with a smug grin.

I stepped right, but so did he. “What do I get in return?”

“A sore ass?”

I gnawed on my lip to hide a moan, but I figured he saw right through me. This felt a bit like a game; one we both knew the plays to. I knew he was going to punish me, and he knew I wasn’t putting up a real fight.

But I did want something.

“Fine, I’ll give you my hands if you promise me something.”

“I don’t negotiate, sweetheart. You’re gonna give me your hands anyway.”