Page 36 of Start With A Slap

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, you clearly have no idea how the game works?—”

“No, I mean, why would you go through all this trouble just to ...play chess?”

“Because then it’s up to you, isn’t it?” He lowered his register to warn her, “‘Course, you touchme, all bets are off.”

“I’m not going to touch you, Sever.” Wait. Did she just agree to Paris? She had to hand it to him—in less than a minute, he’d reverse-psychologied her reverse psychology.

“I won’t expect it, then.”

She sighed, fiddling with the sash on her wrap dress. “I don’t understand you.”

“This isn’t just for me,” he explained. “YouneedParis. Look, I’ll even give you one day off; you’ll have an entire day alone to explore the city. The Louvre, the Pompidou, Maillol... Do you really want to pass that up?”

No. No I don’t.“Why are you being like this?”

“Because,” he said firmly, “I cannot stand to see you waste away.”

She pulled the sash and the knot came undone. “I’m not wasting.”

“Yeah. Well. I also happen to like you quite a bit.”

The dress open, she traced a light circle around her belly button. “So... you won’t touch me at all.”

“Only to, say, help you out of a car or what have you. Hands only. An occasional shoulder rub, but that’s what I do when introducing a lady.”

“You won’t touch my spot?”

He chuckled, and lowered his volume to match hers. “I willnottouch your lovely little spot. I swear it. Not until you’re in my arms of your own accord.”

Which wasn’t going to happen. Especially if he was going to behave himself...

“So,” he said. “Will I see you Thursday?”

She stared atSunflower Xuntil her vision blurred. “I guess you will.”

“Brilliant. Now about those pantyhose...”

“Sever. Nobody wears pantyhose anymore.”

“Pity. They do still sell them though, don’t they? Came in an egg... Am I making that up?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “There was an egg I think, at some point. It was plastic, my Mom used to buy them, and I... can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”

He let out a contented breath. “I love to hear you laugh.”

It sounded like pillow talk. Which wasn’t okay... “Don’t mistake that for affection.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, voice soft and airy. “À bientôt, ma tigresse.”

As if he were whispering in her ear, her nipples stiffened and she felt a twinge between her legs.

He disconnected, and she pressed the phone against her smiling lips. His fantasy was to tear cheap pantyhose off of her body? It was so absurd, and yet... oddly innocent. Savagery excluded.

She slid a hand to her aching sex, squeezed her thighs together and fixed her gaze on the painting he’d given her. The setting sun gave it a depth she hadn’t noticed before.

Several minutes later, at the onset of her climax, she heard Jason’s key in the lock. She didn’t stop.

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