It's a dream I know all too well.
Because I’ve been chasing the same thing since my parents died. Latching on to Indie and Willow. Throwing myself into all the events and camps for Renegade Hearts. And, holding on as tightly as I can to Zach.
The question is, do I want to be a part of this? If Zach is his, or even if he isn’t, do I want to explore this?
It’s a simple answer with complicated roots.
Maybe it’s the wine. Or maybe it’s my exhausted heart. But I find myself nodding my head.
“Is that a yes?” There’s hope in his voice, and I can’t be the one to douse it.
Not right now.
Maybe not ever.
Because I do wantthis. I’m just not sure whatthislooks like long term.
I reach up and cup his face, running my fingertips down his stubbled jaw. “I don’t know what guarantees I can make, but I can give you my forgiveness, and I can promise you one day at a time.”
“Is that a yes?”
God, how is this man so complicated and so pure at the same time?
I laugh to myself. “Yes, I want this.”
“Oh, thank God,” he sighs and leans in, pressing his lips to mine. “It would have been so awkward to have to head back into the house and jack off in the shower alone.”
“Oh, to be a fly on the wall.”
I press my lips together, as his smile grows. “You want to see me jack off?”
Picking up my glass of wine, I swirl it around, feigning amusement. “I don’t know why men are so surprised by that? You’d love to watch me finger myself.”
He barks a laugh. “Without a doubt.”
“So why is it a shock that I’d want to watch you stroke, what I happen to know, is a cock meant to ruin women?”
“So tell me, Little Thief.” The nickname sends a shiver down my spine. Knowing the meaning, knowing that he sees me not as a thief of trinkets but rather his heart, has me clamoring to hear it over and over. “What is it you want from me?”
“You like asking me that question.”
“I do,” he tells me, hand gripping my thigh under my sleep shorts.“I like when you tell me what to do. I like pleasing you. I also like spanking your ass when you piss me off.”
Images from our night pressed up against the vending machine flash through my mind, and if his smile is any indication, he’s thinking of it too.
This is a new concept for me. And as much as I love reading about men dominating their women, there is something so inherently sexy about the way my directions bring Luca to his knees. I don’t hate it. In fact, I think it might be a part of me that’s always been there I’ve just never explored. Mostly, I just have no idea what I’m doing.
“Don’t think about it too hard.” He slides his hand up and traces the outline of my pussy. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you. Then I’ll take what I need. Balance.”
Balance.
The best of both worlds.
I think I can get behind that.
Straightening my spine, I take a deep breath.
“Strip for me.” I hear myself speak with more confidence than I’ve ever had in the bedroom. My voice a low rasp that is undeniably sexy. “Then I want you to stroke what is mine until you’re so close it hurts, but don’t you dare come. That belongs only to me.”