Chapter 17

A more rational side of my thinking caused me to say, “Maybe we can continue this some other time. What do you think?”

More lightning, thunder, and rain pelted the silo’s exterior. Metal creaked, awake with life. A strong wind started to blow against the silo’s frame, whipping into its upright structure.

Patrick brushed fingers through my hair and said, “I think you should promise me a good time later tonight, Cannon.”

“I can’t promise you that, but I want to.”

“Promise me anyway.”

I laughed and replied, “It depends on what you mean by a good time. I’m not really into sex games or being beaten.” I didn’t mind the occasional silk straps around my wrists or ankles and a few bites, but that was pretty much the extent of my sexual explorations with erotic action.

He laughed. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll be nice to you.”