By the time Sin finishes his eternity-long shower, I have remembered how to breathe again. I try to sulk at him when he comes back in, but since he likes the quiet, it doesn’t do a damn bit of good. If I gave him the silent treatment for the rest of my time here, he would be in heaven.

So, I talk.

“Listen, this whole cuffing me to the bed thing? Aside from being really weird, this is not necessary. If you are this adamant that I stay, I will stay. I promise. I didn’t have any urgent plans tomorrow anyway. You can remove the cuffs and I won’t try to flee.”

He doesn’t respond. My chain scrapes the bar as I move my arms and peer back at him over my shoulder.

Oh, fuck.

Sin is standing bedside, completely naked. My sense of decency compels me to look away, but I don’t possess the will-power. He’s not even looking at me, he’s standing there texting, the glow of the light illuminating his handsome features. His dark hair is damp from the shower, the longer part on top that was slicked back before now falls in his face. I really, really hate admiring the physical attributes of a man who just cuffed me to his bed, but… well, if these cuffs were on under different circumstances, I’m not sure I would complain.

Prior to Rafe, the extent of my sexual experience was two average teenage guys—one pale and lanky with glasses, one a little softer around the middle with too much body hair. Suffice it to say, I am not accustomed to the sight of a gorgeous, badass-looking man, muscular in all the right places and decorated with tattoos. Sin appears to have several. I can’t see what they all are without asking him to turn, but ink wings on his upper arm catch my attention before I continue my perusal. My mouth goes dry as my eyes wander down over his chiseled abdomen. I can see the jut of his V in profile, and my fingers long to trace it.

Well, now I can’t think straight. I force my gaze to the ceiling because there is more body for my eyeballs to explore, and I refuse. I already had a hard enough time stopping myself. I could see the dark shadow on his front, the enticing curve of his ass. If I peek again, I’ll be too tempted to check out what he’s working with. My luck, he’ll catch me gawking at him and I’ll die of mortification.

This bedroom is a fucking boiler room. Thank God I’m not under the covers, because I am burning up.

Sin cuts the light off on his phone and places it face-down on the bedside table. I tense when the bed sags under his weight as he climbs on.

“Um… didn’t you forget something?” I ask.

He glances over at me, almost curiously. “No.”

I dart a look at just his face, then back at the ceiling. “You aren’t wearing any clothes.”

“I sleep naked,” he states. From the tone of his voice, you’d think I should have known that.

“But I’m stuck in this bed with you tonight, and I really want you to… put on clothes.”

Cocking his head to the side, he pretends to consider. “What was it you said to me? I don’t need you to approve of my life choices.”

My eyes widen and dart to his face, staying there this time. “This is an entirely different situation. I am a vulnerable woman chained to your bed. Can’t you see why your nakedness might make me uncomfortable?”

“If you’re looking to be even more uncomfortable, keep talking about how vulnerable you are chained to my bed,” he tells me.

My jaw falls open and I gape at him, but he gives me absolutely nothing. I can’t tell if he’s serious or joking, and now that he’s said that, I can’t help looking at the padded cuffs around my wrists. Padded cuffs. These aren’t the kinds of cuffs captors put on their victims; these are the kinds of cuffs I expected to find in Rafe’s playroom, if I ever got to visit.

These are sex cuffs. He put sex cuffs on my wrists and chained me to his fucking bed—which has rails on the sides. Or at least this side?

I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself. “Are there other cuffs? Is there another drop-down rail on your side of the bed?”

“Yep,” he says, casually.

“What the fuck is this place?” I whisper to myself.

“I was being considerate,” he offers. “I could’ve restrained you much less comfortably.”

“I’m telling Rafe about this,” I state, since it’s the only threat I can muster.

“Go ahead,” he replies, easily. “Of course, Rafe thinks you’re a lying little whore right now, so I wouldn’t expect him to believe you. Feel free to file your complaint, though.”

No, Rafe doesn’t give a single fuck about me. Damn. I was hoping that would work.

I’m so agitated. Even though the restraints are soft and he gave me enough pull in the chains to rest my hands on the pillow, just looking at the rail makes me angry. I’m also antsy knowing there’s a naked man right on the bed behind me, and when he shifts and his clean, post-shower scent wafts my way, I also remember he’s an attractive man.

This is the single weirdest night of my life. I thought the weird scale went full-tilt back in Chicago when I stayed at that Morelli house, but apparently in Vegas not only are they all mean, they’re also sexual deviants.

My head fills up with images and I can’t tell if they terrify me or turn me on. I tell myself I’m safe because I’m fully clothed, but how easy would it be for him to move up behind me and slip the button through my jeans? Even as I tried to squirm away, he could drag down the zipper and slip his hand inside. Without the use of my hands, how could I stop him from restraining my hips and easing the denim down my legs, removing my panties and pinning my writhing body to the bed…?

Fuck.

I’m not sure where fear ended and arousal began, but I’m starting to think sexual deviance is catching. These damn sex cuffs are a bad influence, that’s what it is. Also, it’s incredibly hard to ignore the nakedness I know exists just a few inches away on this bed.

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray for death. That’s a little dramatic, but I’m so confused right now, I might welcome the peace.

I try to calm down, but my every thought right now is frantic or feverish. I need distance between myself and the man in this bed with me; since physical distance is clearly out of the question, I have to find it somewhere else. Closing my eyes and taking a slow, deep breath, I envision the last moment I felt completely calm. Standing in Rafe’s driveway, looking up at the night sky. I isolate the peaceful parts, clearing away Rafe’s mean ass, and Sin’s psychotic ass. No asses remain, now it’s just me and the stars.

Peace flows through me, loosening some of the tension in my shoulders. Everything is going to be okay, I tell myself.

Only I don’t know that.

I doubt he’ll even answer me, but I ask anyway. “Will you let me go tomorrow?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“What does it depend on?”

“Just go to sleep, Laurel. Asking me a million questions won’t change anything.”

* * *

When my eyes open, the first sight they focus on is my cuffed hands and the cool metal bar I’m chained to. The room is still pretty dark, but looking at the window, I see that it’s light outside. Some kind of blackout curtain hangs over his window, keeping the room dark. I wonder if he usually keeps strange hours. Maybe he works into the morning and needs to sleep when the sun is coming up.

Then again, he kidnapped my ass, so fuck his sleep schedule.

Oh well, he got his wish. I stayed the night in Vegas, whether I wanted to or not.

I roll over to see if he’s still in bed with me, but his spot is empty.

I lie here for a few minutes, adjusting to the inconvenience of being awake and dreading what today will bring. I don’t know why Sin needed me to stay another night. I don’t know why he thinks Rafe will be less of a dick today than he was last night.

Thinking about last night fills me with dread, so I shove it and him right back out of my head. Dickhead.

I call out for the other dickhead, the one who can release me from these damn sex cuffs and let me go pee. “Sin, can you come help me?”

I don’t even know if the man is in the house, but I’m hoping he wouldn’t leave me here like this.

I don’t hear his movements in the quiet house, no soft steps on the gray carpet, no creak of the stairs. Despite the soundlessness, he does appear in the doorway and walk over to me. Without a word of apology or explanation, he reaches into his pocket for a tiny silver key and grabs my left wrist.

Since he was so very, very naked last time I saw him, my gaze drifts over his body with more awareness today. He’s dressed in black slacks, a dark burgundy dress shirt, and he has a black jacket on over it. Looking at his hips, I can’t help envisioning the sexy V I saw from the side last night. He looks leaner in clothing. I wouldn’t have guessed he was so muscular beneath all that fabric.

“You gonna tip me when you’re done?” he asks, dropping my now free hand and moving on to the next.

My face heats up with embarrassment, but I play it off. “Hey, if a hot guy is going to tie me to a bed, I should get something out of it.”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and he finishes unlocking my cuff. “Maybe if today doesn’t go well, I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he offers.

My eyes widen, but again, I cannot tell whether or not the man is serious or joking. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m all right,” I assure him. “I would like to go home. That’s the extent of my wish list at the moment.”

He watches me rub my wrists for a few seconds, then he leans down and lowers the bar so I can climb off the bed. “If I let you take a shower, are you going to make me regret it?”

“Only if you really like smelly women,” I offer back.

“If it sounds like you’re trying anything stupid, I’ll come in and keep an eye on you.”

“You’ll come in and watch me shower? Boundaries aren’t a thing here, huh?” I mutter, sitting up and moving my legs over the side of the bed.

Sin approaches a door along the wall across from me and opens it. “You can grab something out of here to wear.”

I blink, planning to tell him I don’t think he has anything that will fit me, but then I see the door he opened is apparently not his closet, because the first thing I see is a magenta dress. My gaze darts to his face, startled. “I thought you said you lived here alone.”

“I do,” he states.

Pushing off the bed, I accidentally knock my forgotten purse into the floor. I must have slept with it strapped to my shoulder all night. I bend to grab it and straighten, frowning as I approach the closet. Sure enough, the closet is full of women’s clothing.

“I’m so confused.”

He does not explain. “Pick something and come on.”

I frown as I step inside the closet. It’s not a deep walk-in, but there is enough room to step inside. Two bars form an L-shape and they sag from the weight of all the stylish clothing. Why the hell does he have so many items of women’s clothing? I look down and see the floor beneath is lined with shoes and boots. I sink to my knees and pick up the cutest pair of white suede boots I’ve ever seen, running my finger over the soft cuff.

“So pretty.” Looking up at Sin as he watches me, I ask, “What is this? Do you have a girlfriend who keeps all her stuff here?”

“Nope.”

“A sister you’re freakily close to who shares your bedroom when she visits?”

Sin scowls. “No.”

I indicate the glut of fabric hanging off hangers in this closet. “Then what’s with all the pretty things? Are you a cross dresser?”

At that, he rolls his eyes. “Just pick a fucking outfit or I’ll do it for you.”

“Can you ask her where she got these?” I ask, holding up the white boots. “I think I’m in love. I’m going to ask Carly to get me these for my birthday.”

“Just take them. Pick a fucking dress or something, Jesus Christ.”

My eyes widen. “I can wear the boots?”

“You can have the boots. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

I push up off the ground and peruse the rack, looking for something to go with the white boots. Carly is more fashion-forward than I am, but I settle on a black and white striped dress with shoulder cut-outs that should work.

Sin shuts the closet door and walks out ahead of me. Pushing open the bathroom door and gesturing for me to go inside, he tells me curtly, “You’ve got ten minutes. If you’re not out in ten minutes, I’ll be in to check on you.”

Since I’m on a time limit, I make quick work of undressing and jumping in the shower. The little bottles of shampoo and conditioner I picked up at the drug store last night are in here, so he must have brought my bags inside this morning.

I’m paranoid he’s going to come inside, so I hurry through the shower and wrap a towel around my body, just in case. I don’t have my own brush, so I finger comb my hair and grab my emergency make-up out of my purse.

A knock sounds, then Sin’s voice. “Almost done?”

“Almost,” I assure him. “Two more minutes.”

I can’t do much in two minutes, but I coat my lashes with mascara and brush some color on my lips.

When the door opens, I’m fully dressed and just bending to slide my heel inside the pretty white boot. Fortunately, it fits like a glove.

Sin pauses, his dark eyes traveling over my body from head to toe and lingering on my boots. They make another trip up, but he’s paying more attention to my body—or the dress?—than me, I think.

I start to speak, but I feel like I’m interrupting, so I stop. He finally concludes his perusal, sighs quietly, then turns around and heads down the stairs.

I flip the light off and cradle all my stuff in my arm as I follow him. “Do you have a bag I could put my clothes in?” I ask him.

He goes to the kitchen and comes back with a balled up grocery bag. I straighten it out, murmuring an absent thank you, and dump my clothes inside.

Sin takes my cell phone out of his jacket pocket and hands it to me.

Eyeing him warily, I take it. It’s fully charged now, so he must have plugged it in at some point, but I don’t know how; it was in my purse. My purse which I slept with. That means he must have opened my purse and rooted around for the phone while I slept—that’s vaguely creepy.

“There’s a message from Rafe,” he informs me.

My heart drops into my gut. “What? He doesn’t have my phone number.”

“I gave it to him,” Sin states.

Instead of the excitement a message from Rafe might have stirred in me yesterday, now there’s dread. I don’t want to read whatever mean shit he has to say to me. I don’t want more accusations that I’m lying, more flippant insults about my sister. He can fuck off, that’s what he can do.

Instead of responding to his message—or even reading it—I slide the phone in the pocket of my purse and look up at Sin. “I’m hungry.”

He blinks at me. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Feed me,” I suggest. Gesturing past him, I indicate the kitchen. “There’s probably food in here, right?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s go somewhere. Vegas must have lots of places to eat. Can we go to Caesar’s Palace? The mall where the ceiling changes colors? They probably have a food court, right?”

The man who kidnapped and cuffed me to his bed stares at me like I’m the freak. “Are you for real right now? You want me to escort you around a fucking tourist attraction and buy you food?”

I shrug. “I had to sleep with you last night; I think you owe me a meal.”

“I didn’t fuck you.”

“My stomach doesn’t care.”

Sin rubs his forehead, looking completely fucking baffled. He looks at me again—well, at my dress—then heaves a sigh, pats his pocket, and says, “Come on.”