You get off the bed and look around the room for something to tie her up with.
“What’s going on?”
“Just give me a minute, and don’t move,” you reply as you spot her Converse sneakers on the floor and figure the laces will do the trick. You unlace one sneaker and tie a little loop in it. Climbing back on the bed between her knees, you take Miley’s wrist and slide the loop over it. “What the fuck…” she says with surprise, rolling over just as you were grabbing her other wrist, “I’m not into that, and besides, I don’t know you well enough to trust you like that. Maybe you should go.” |