“Lovely, Nee.” Leo topped me up. “Only happy drunk girl allowed tonight.”
“Sorry. The saying just popped into my head. And well, let’s face it, we don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. We never know.” I raised my glass in cheers. “I know it’s sappy, but there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”
Drio was the first to clink his glass to mine.
Rohan took my hand. “We’re gonna make it.” I didn’t know if he meant us personally or the general us versus them, but either way, I agreed.
Drio slurped an oyster. “Let me tell you about the time I had to track a lunatic troll from Oslo to Rome.” Soon he’d swept the somber mood away with his witty tale. I never thought I’d hear about Drio in a fur coat disrupting a Vatican tour by climbing out of a sewer, but here we were.
“He’s being charming,” I whispered to Rohan. “Should I be scared?”
Ro looked relieved. “No. This is what he’s really like.”
Well, damn.
18
The rest of the night panned out according to expectation, with a lot of banter and laughter. Time flew by after that until it was 10PM and the real games were about to begin.
Shocker, Leonie totally took Drio home. It was a good thing she could use the excuse of wanting privacy to never come back to Demon Club, because as a half-goblin she couldn’t cross the wards without help from one of us. One bounce off those invisible shields and Drio would know the truth and kill her. I didn’t think that his feelings for her outweighed his intense hatred of all things demons.
Rohan dropped me off in front of the Robson Plaza Hotel, a snazzy boutique accommodation at the bottom of Robson Street, our main shopping district downtown. It was within walking distance of Stanley Park and my favorite beach, English Bay.
I retrieved the suitcase from the trunk and handed him a gift bag. “Come back in one hour.”
The suite I’d reserved was perfect for my needs. I hurried to set everything up and get myself ready.
Rohan knocked on the door sixty-one minutes later.
I smoothed down my clothes about four times more than I needed to, resisting the urge to run for the bathroom and change. This was our chance to step out of being us for a night. To connect without all the other bullshit and reset things, get back to what was great about our relationship without the stress.
I opened the door, only sticking my pigtailed head out.
He held up the mask I’d gifted him with. The rest of the costume was nowhere in sight. “Whatever are you up to, Sparky?”
My heart sank at the sight of his regular clothes, but I mustered up a smile and stepped aside to let him into the short entrance hallway of our suite. “Call me Harley.”
Rohan gaped at my red and blue satin short shorts with the black hip belt and T-shirt reading “Daddy’s Lil’ Monster.” Blessings for online cosplay stores. “Harley Quinn hates Batman,” he finally said.
My cheeks flamed. I toed at the ground but it didn’t conveniently open to swallow me whole. “Plenty of fans ship them.” I’d checked.
My boyfriend stepped back like I might infect him. “We’re roleplaying fanfic? It’s not canon. It’s wrong. I mean really wrong. Weirder than that alternate universe with the zombie Alfred.”
Save me from fanboys and screw you, buddy. I’d subsisted on Chickeny Delight to save up the cost of hotel rooms and cosplay outfits, not to mention stepped way outside my comfort zone in dressing up in the sexual foreplay miscalculation of the century. We needed this night.
I needed this night.
Except Rohan was still frowning at me. I wasn’t getting this night.
“My bad.” I gestured for him to head into the main part of the suite, ripping out one of my pigtails. Would it be too much to skip the glass and just stick a straw directly into the champagne bottle chilling in the stainless steel bucket over in the corner on a stand?
He did a double take at the bed’s spiffy little addition of an under-the-mattress restraint system. Four nylon and Velcro cuffs, one for each arm and leg, were connected with cords under the mattress. No headboard or footboard needed. “You were going to let me tie you up?”
“Yup.” I slingshot a blindfold onto the bed.
“Fuck canon.” He turned the Batman mask over in his hand, then stuffed it in his pocket, and poured us each a splash of champagne. “Breaking into my home? You can’t get to Wayne Enterprises that easily, Dr. Quinn.”
Bruce Wayne, the guy who didn’t want to reveal himself.
I accepted the glass. “I never thought anything about you was easy, Bruce.” I swallowed my champagne, savoring the fizziness dissolving on my tongue, and ran a finger down his chest. While he was distracted, I whipped out the miniature wooden toy bat I’d had tucked against my back.
Rohan disarmed me in a second. He spun me, pulling me tight against him, the bat to my throat. “Nice try.”
His voice vibrated up along the base of my neck, into my skull.
My nostrils flared, my empty glass bouncing onto the plush carpet. I rubbed my ass back against him. He was half-hard, his biceps tense as he kept himself in check.
“Safe word,” he whispered.
Ms. Clara had discussed this with me, had patiently answered my many, many questions about what I could expect, but happily imprisoned against him like this, damned if I could remember the word I’d come up with. “Chair?”
He chuckled, then his grip on me tightened, back in character once more. “Didn’t think I could get to you that quickly?”
“No,” I said hoarsely. “I thought I had more of a chance against you.”
“This game was decided the moment you invaded my space.” He forced me to the bed, cuffing my wrists above my head. “Too tight?”
I tugged on them. “No.”
I swung my legs in a scissor kick, catching him around the waist and locking him tight. “I’m not that easy.”
“I never thought you were.” Rohan pulled the metal, bat-shaped throwing star that had come with his costume out of his pocket and sliced my shorts off me. I was so surprised I dropped my legs, allowing him to catch my feet and cuff me, spread-eagle.
My heart pounded.
Rohan stood at the foot of the bed, his hooded gaze on me.
The straps were pretty comfortable. And strong. No matter how much I jerked and strained against them, I couldn’t get free. Believe me, I tried. Laying here, naked from the waist down was a vulnerability I hadn’t counted on.
“Any time you need to, say it.” That was my boyfriend, not Bruce.
“Got me where you want me?” I asked in a throaty murmur.
“Not even close.” Ro wielded that throwing star like a pro. Okay, more professional chef than ninja, but he got the job done. The rest of my clothing fell off me in tattered shreds, leaving me in only the hip belt. Remarkably, there wasn’t a mark on me. He picked up the blindfold that had fallen off the bed, twirling it around his finger.
I jerked my chin up. “You can strip me but I won’t break, Wayne.”
He slid the blindfold over my head. “I don’t want you broken, Harley. I want you desperate.”