Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
He likes it, sure, and I like that he likes it, but I still feel at a distinct disadvantage.
I want him to tease me, yes, but I want to tease him back just as hard.
He lets me stew in anticipation for a minute, then he continues, "I love to wait. Especially in the beginning. Especially if there's an intense chemistry. If I know a woman wants to fuck me senseless, I walk her to her door, and I kiss her like I'm going to take her, and I say good night."
"And you just leave?" I ask.
He nods. "If I have the will to do it." Something drops into his voice. A raw edge. He's struggling to stay in control.
But I'm struggling more. I take a deep breath and let out a slow exhale. I take a long drink of water. I'm playing this game too. I'm irresistible too. "Do you ever break?"
"Sometimes," he says. "I test myself. See how long I can go."
"Are you going to do that with me?" I ask.
"If you want me to." He takes a long sip of his tea and sits up straight, collecting his thoughts and turning them into something coherent. Then, he speaks with some strange mix of control and raw desire. He's ready to tell me this, but he's letting go of something too. "That's one of my fantasies. I admit, to a woman I'm trying to delay satisfaction. She finds out and she teases me until I have to give in."
My chest warms. My stomach too. I like this idea. A lot. And knowing he's sharing a secret with me? Sexual confessions shouldn't feel this romantic. But they do. "Like at the club?" I ask.
He nods. "We've done that. But we could do it differently. One of the other ways I imagine."
"How does that go?" I turn my body toward his. I tune toward him.
He drifts off to some place in his mind. A memory. A fantasy. A scene he's used too many times. "I'm busy with something. A work call. Someone comes in and tries their best to distract me. It's a game. To see who can break first.
That sounds hot. Risky. Which only makes it hotter. And his. All his. Which makes my entire body buzz with something even stronger than desire. Affection. "What else?"
Need drops into his voice. "Sometimes, we're somewhere I know we shouldn't have sex." He takes a long sip, trying to stay in control. He swallows hard, looks me in the eyes, continues, "A church or a dressing room at the mall. Or a hotel pool. Sometimes, we're somewhere we can't have sex, and she teases me, by flashing her breasts, or slipping my hand between her legs, or placing her palm on my thigh. Not enough to get either of us off. Only enough to lengthen the tease."
My cheeks flush. My chest too. "I like that one."
"We can try it after this."
"I want another fantasy first," I say. "A complete scenario. I gave you a few. So it's your turn. Something you're embarrassed to tell me. Something you think I won't want to hear."
"Right here, in the middle of this Thai restaurant, stone-cold sober?" he asks.
"Yes," I say.
"What if I'm not embarrassed by any of my desires?" he asks.
"Then you're a more evolved person than I am." Is that even possible? I should know, better than anyone, how often people crave the taboo, how little shame benefits anyone, but I still feel the twinge all the time.
He refills our mugs and takes a long sip of his tea. It's not steaming any longer, but it is warm. He's not hiding from the heat. He's embracing it. "I'm not embarrassed by any of it. Not anymore. But I don't want to tell you I crave scenes where I have power over people. Where I use a partner as a prop for the benefit of someone else. I know it doesn't mean I want that in real life. I know it doesn't mean I lack respect for women or struggle with letting go of authority. But it still feels wrong, at times."
"I know what you mean," I say.
"The scenes aren't all that unusual," Jackson says. "Sometimes, I'm a professor punishing a student. Or a student is trying to seduce me into a perfect grade. Sometimes, I'm a boss ordering an employee to satisfy me. When I read too much crime fiction, I see myself as a mob boss, using my wife as a prop to fuck with other people."
That's not what I expect him to say. That's so far from what I expect him to say. And I love that. I love the way he surprises me. "Tell me about that one," I say.
"There's a man who wants something from me, who I know wants you, so I ask you to interrupt our meeting, strip for me, demand me, fuck me right in front of him. We make him watch. We make him crave you. We make him hurt for it. Just because we can."