Cheyenne lay on Faulkner’s bed and waited. She could feel her heart beating quickly. She knew her breathing had increased. She gripped the slats of Faulkner’s bed frame so hard, she figured her knuckles were probably white. He hadn’t told her to grab hold of them, but when Cheyenne had seen the bed again, she couldn’t stop thinking about being tied to it.
She worried about her body, would Faulkner like it? Most of the time in the past when she’d had s*x, the room had been dark and the men hadn’t bothered to try to check her out all that much before they’d gone for the gusto.
Cheyenne had turned on the light in the bedroom and decided to leave it on. She’d used the restroom and slicked herself up with her gingerbread lotion, remembering his words from two weeks ago. She swiped her lips wi
