I love love love love LOVE this oneshot...I'm so happy. Thank you to DegrassiMC for proofing it...you rock :) This will be a series of oneshots updated periodically...I swear. Also, this is a bit different from what I've written in the past in the way I wrote it, but I hope you like it. It's supposed to be read in Clare's point of view, sort of like a blog or video diary or whatever. I'm leaving the context up to you. Suffice to say, she's documenting some of her experiences. The italics are her commentary, the regular is the memory she's writing about. Enjoy!

I do not own Degrassi...*sad face*

Duct tape. How simple was that? Duct tape. Seemingly harmless, yet deadly in the hands of Eli. Oh, sure, it was safe as long as you were awake when Eli had it, but fall asleep and you belonged to him. You were his to play with, his to bend and break, because he knew things about duct tape that would curl your toes in fearful pleasure.

You would think I was smarter than he was, that I knew, knew, not to fall asleep near him, especially not in his bed, especially not while he was fingering duct tape. But, alas, I was not such smart. Just thinking about what I awoke to makes me shake my head, though not always in a negative way.

I began to stir when I felt something sticky on my wrists. The boy I'd been pressed against during sleep, the body of warmth, had retreated, leaving my side cold. I further stirred when I tried to move my arms and realized they were tied down above my head, halting any movement.

My eyes opened slowly and I blinked, trying to erase the sleep from my foggy mind. "Eli?" I called. I looked above my head to find my hands taped together and against the bed. I rubbed my wrists together to try to slide them out from under the tape—black duct tape, to be exact—but found I could not. I sighed.

"You won't be able to get out of that," Eli's voice taunted. My eyes darted to where his voice came from, seeking him out in the half-darkness of his room. He stepped into the light and flashed me a stunning smile, one that screamed I'm-up-to-no-good and when-you're-tied-up-like-this-you-are-the-sexiest-thing-in-the-world. I felt my cheeks flush with what felt like desire and anticipation.

I didn't want to give up without a fight, so I tried to play it tough. "Just because you've got me tied down doesn't mean you're getting any."

His eyes flashed with the challenge. "Clare," he drawled my name, swirling it around his tongue as if it were a fine wine. He stepped forward, so close to the bed I could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. Suddenly, I realized why I'd been so cold when Eli's hand brushed up my naked skin.

As a side note, before I continue this, I want you all to know that Eli is very good with his hands. And it's not just in the regular way either. For instance, some guys carry pens like swords (and as well they should) carefully, with almost an art to the dexterity of their grip. But Eli, crafty Eli, had hands so deftly acute they could remove my bra without even alerting me as to what was happening. I will tell you, that is nothing short of a miracle considering what my bra holds up.

So when I say I didn't realize he'd taken my clothes off, I am fully qualified to make that assertion. It's perfectly normal in our relationship, actually, for me to not even realize what he's doing with his hands until he's already done it. Now, I want you to know, I am in no way complaining. I just want you to be aware so you don't sit there and read this and go "What a dumbass. How could she not even notice him taking her clothes off?"

I shivered under his warm fingers, elating as the touch trailed from hip to shoulder, up my neck, over my cheek, across my lips, against my tongue. My eyes closed as his finger swirled around in my mouth, distracting me so I didn't realize, until too late, his mouth pressing against my stomach, his tongue tasting the skin.

What did I tell you? He has a way of distracting me! It's completely his fault.

His tongue was hot as it brushed against my stomach, leaving a trail of superheated skin only slightly chilled by the sub-zero room.

That may be hyperbole, but I promise it's as close to the truth as I can tell you. It's almost as if Eli's room is negative degrees! I'm not being funny either! I swear to God he doesn't have a heater and he hates blankets. The kid's a penguin.

I managed to force his fingers from my mouth, but they only receded to trail down my neck to brush against my breast. His lips trailed up to meet his hands and suddenly I was in no way, shape, or form cold any longer. My body acted of its own accord, lifting from the bed to press tighter against Eli's body.

Eli pulled away suddenly, removing all of the warmth of his body—

I still get mad when he does that, even if he is just playing.

—to lean over my face, smirking triumphantly. My chest rose and fell in time to my heavy and labored breathing. His hand folded into my hair, forcing me to look at him as he spoke in his sultry voice. "Now that I have you all hot," his breath fanned across my face as his words wrapped around my ears and I closed my eyes, involuntarily enraptured by the man above me, "and bothered, what were you saying earlier? I believe your exact words were 'Just because you've got me tied down doesn't mean you're getting any.'"

I folded. I know, you're probably thinking I'm weak and misrepresent the females of the world and blah, blah, blah, but you have to understand: Eli can be very persuasive. Especially when he shows you what he means instead of telling you. Don't ever challenge Eli, because you will lose, guaranteed.

But I suppose it's worth it to fight with him, come to think of it. Because when he's hot and bothered…suffice to say he's much more fun.

Mmm...think on that last line and have sweet dreams tonight ;)

Good? Bad? Need MORE? LET ME KNOW!

Em =]