She woke the next morning to find his arm draped over her and his body spooned against hers. She tried not to move for fear she'd wake him, but the coffee in the kitchen was calling her name. As quietly as she could, she slipped from under his arm and out of the bed, and padded softly across the floor to the bathroom. Her feet were cold against the tile floor, and a glance out the window above the tub told her why. During the night the ice had turned to snow, and the ground was covered in a thick, white blanket. The window had frosted almost completely over, an array of crystals working their way along the bottom and up the sides of the glass. She stood for a moment enjoying the beauty of it all, until the chill raised goose bumps across her bare skin. She grabbed her robe, pulling its soft fleece tightly around her, ran a comb through her hair and a brush over her teeth, and made her way noiselessly down the stairs.
The coffee was ready and she whispered a prayer of thanks for the man who invented coffee makers with timers. The rich aroma and the smooth taste brought her a little further out of sleep's fog. She carried her cup to the table, where last night's unopened wine now sat in what had been ice hours before. She turned to enjoy the view of the snow through the window and noticed his bag in the middle of the floor, just where it had fallen when he arrived.
"Well, he'll need that," she whispered to herself. She picked up the bag and started for the foot of the stairs when she looked up and found him leaning over the railing, naked, watching her. "Well good morning, handsome!" A smile lit up her face. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Oh, long enough," was his groggy answer. "I was just coming down for my bag."
"That's OK. I've got it. Wait a sec and I'll bring a cup of coffee with it." She knew from his sleepy eyes that the coffee would be most welcome.
She poured a fresh cup for him and finished off her own before starting up the stairs. When she reached the top, she found him back under the covers, propped up on one elbow looking at her. He grinned as she handed the steaming cup to him. "Here's your bag," she said, setting it down on the bed beside him. "I found this down there, too." She winked at him as she tossed the rope into his lap.
He laughed, and took several slow sips of his coffee before setting the cup on the bedside table. "Hmm, wouldn't want to lose that, now would I?"
Her curiosity was piqued. "So what else you got in there?"
"Oh, just the usual stuff, my jammmies, a robe, couple of shirts, razor. You know, ordinary stuff." He grinned at her.
"That's not the stuff I'm talking about, and you know it." With her hands on her hips, she tried hard to act annoyed.
"Gee, I can't imagine what else you could be talking about," he teased.
She plopped down on the bed next to him. "Come on, please tell me. I'll make it worth your while." Her tongue slowly moved to wet her lips. She smiled, coyly biting one fingernail, and looked up at him through her lashes.
"Hmm. Well, let's see. I have four of these," he lifted the white rope from the night before. He delved into his bag and poked through the contents. "And I have these." He pulled his hand out, dangling a set of steel handcuffs from one finger.
"And just what do you propose to do with those?" she asked, one eyebrow arched in mock indignation.
"Maybe I'll let you decide." His hand disappeared into the bag again. "I also brought this." An evil grin crossed his face as he withdrew a black handle, followed by the strands of a wicked looking whip.
