The Basement
At the foot of the stairs, I stopped and silently looked around the room. Everything looked the same as it had earlier in the week–whips and chains and the decadent altar. A shiver ran through me, but I didn’t know if it was from cold…or fear…or longing. From out of a dark corner walked Carter. He wore only a pair of black jeans, barefoot, his hair still damp from the shower. “You came.” “I promised I would,” I replied sullenly, crossing my arms over my chest. Carter looked at me closely, and then reached his hand out to me. Slowly I unfolded my arms and took it, letting him draw me farther into the room. He led my over to the chaise and urged me to sit. When I did, he dropped to one knee, …