Page 56 of Show Off

I shiver as he goes back to kissing my throat. His palm slides up my ribcage and I almost forget what I’m saying. “I think so. That’s how it is in the movies.” I’m barely conscious of what I’m saying as he nips at my earlobe.

“We’re using the movies as our standard?”

“You have a better idea?”

“Nope,” he says and nibbles my ear some more.

I don’t know why I keep harping on this point, but it seems important. There’s a first time for everything, and this is mine. “Teenagers park on some starry hillside as the camera pans back and the car starts rocking.” I can think of at least two films Cooper starred in with scenes just like that. Gabe directed a third one with car sex on a beach, which must be in the same ballpark.

“Rocking?” Dal draws back, and I try to recall what we’re talking about. His mouth keeps making me dizzy. “Sounds aggressive.”

“Maybe that’s the point.” Isn’t good sex sometimes like that? “It’s passionate.”

He gives me a curious look. “Is that what it’s about?”

“Whatwhat’sabout?”

“Your kink.”

I blink in confusion. “What kink?”

“Not kink, exactly.” He brushes my hair off my face. “Turn-on.”

I still don’t know what he means.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and my insides liquify. His thumb skims my chin as a shiver rolls through me and he smiles. “There,” he says. “That’s it.”

“What?” I’m whispering, since the inside of this Honda feels holy. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Except I kinda do, and Dal knows it. “You like when I call you a good girl.” He traces my ear with his lips, making me shiver again. “You’re fierce and in charge and so fucking competent it hurts.” His hands slide up my shirt and his fingers find my bra clasp. “But deep down,” he continues, unhooking my bra, “you want to be told that you’re good.”

“Don’t we all?” My voice sounds high and breathy. I gasp as his big palm scoops under my breast. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Nah.” His thumbs stroke my nipples and I whimper. “Not everyone.”

My eyes drift shut as Dal dips his head and slides my shirt up. He’s kissing my breasts, pushing aside my fear that I’ve just been insulted.

Almost.

“Wait.” I whimper as his tongue rolls my nipple. “Why is that a bad thing?”

From under my shirt, he releases my nipple. “Why is what a bad thing?”

“Wanting to be told I’m good.”

“It’s not.” He nips at my ear, then draws back to brush some loose hair off my face. “Sweetheart,” he says, dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the car. “There is nothing even a little wrong with how fucking good you are.”

“Okay.” I’m still not sure what to make of that. Maybe I don’t care, since he’s suckling my breasts. His mouth feels like heaven, all warm, wet suction. I groan as his teeth graze my nipple.

“What about you?”

Beneath my shirt, Dal stops moving. “What about me?”

“Do you want to be good?”

There’s a long stretch of silence, then Dal draws a breath. “No,” he says, emerging from under my hem. His eyes search mine and he smiles. “I don’t need to be good.” He pauses again, tracing the line of my jaw with one fingertip. “Just honest.”

That tracks. “Is that why you stormed into the meeting this morning?”

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