Chapter 4: The Second Friday

The second Friday, he was already sitting on his hands when I walked in.

All week I had sat across a conference table from his flat grey stare.

I had not looked at him once without remembering that sound.

"You're early," I said, in the Ember voice.

"I've been here since eight."

"The hour doesn't start until ten."

"I know." He didn't look away. "I wanted to be in the room when you came in."

The mask was already tied on. I walked across the carpet and stopped in front of him.

I had planned the same dance and the same rules.

Instead I took hold of his tie.

His eyes went wide.

"You said no hands," he said, very quietly.

"They're my hands."

I pulled, slow, and the knot slid loose under my fingers.

He watched my fingers move. He did not breathe.

I slid the tie from his collar and dropped it on the floor.

Then I undid the first button of his shirt, and the second, and flattened my palm against his chest.

His heart hit it hard, twice, and then raced.

"Rule change," I said. "I touch you. You don't touch me."

"Understood."

"Not until I say."

"Yes."

That one word, dark and low, went through me.

I lowered myself to my knees between his legs.

He made a sound. "You don't have to..."

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