My arms were aching and I found it hard to breathe, holding my arms up and still. It reminded me of that one time I had to get a scan of my lungs at the hospital. I had to lie on a bed with my arms stretched above my head for a solid twenty minutes. You’d think it would be easy, but after three minutes I was ready to beg the technician to stop. Turned me into a whiny kid in no time. This was almost as bad. Big-girl panties, Liz. “You’re thinking again.” Shit. “Sorry, Sir.” “I can see we’ll have to work you into that tonight. I would hate to have to punish you for something so simple.” Punishment? That sounded promising. It could totally be a good thing. “No, Sir.” Damn, what the hell was he searching for in there? The door to Narnia? I shifted where I stood and couldn’t help my internal snark from yammering away—that is, until he turned back around. Any additional smart-ass remarks fled my mind when I saw the look of feral mischief in his eyes and the object of his infernal search in his hands.
