Page 64 of The Fake Date Agreement

He presses a button on the remote control, and I jump when the egg gently vibrates in my palm. Other than a barely audible hum, it’s silent.

“It has different levels.Thatis the most gentle.” He presses again. The vibration kicks up a gear, and my heart does likewise when I imagine having it inside me.

He leans closer, his shoulder brushing mine as I inhale his bitter chocolate, and slightly woodsy scent. It’s as rich and intoxicating as he is. “From feet away, I can do things to you, and no one would have any idea how close you were to orgasming.”

My breathing is growing faster. “What’s the point of that?”

He captures my gaze with a heated, dark-eyed stare. “So you would fuck me absolutely anywhere because you need it that badly.”

“I would never do that,” I whisper, pressing my thighs together.

Not in public. Not me.

He fingers the button, and I jump again as the egg violently vibrates in my palm.

“Never?” His mouth brushes the shell of my ear.

I imagine it inside me, pulsing and vibrating until I’d jump him in the street.

And I fidget when it’s impossible to stay still.

I never had a vibrator. Nope. That’s a lie. I had one for approximately two days. My dad never went in my room, always respecting my privacy as a teenager, but if he accidentally found it…

I tossed it in the trash.

The thought of having that egg inside me and not knowing when those vibrations would come…

My stomach tightens.

Javier gives me a knowing look. “You look like you want to try it.”

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly.

His eyebrow rises.

I move to return it to him, but he shakes his head. “Keep it.”

To my surprise, he hands me the remote as well. “Try it. If you want to take things further, we can.”

“And would taking things further mean you having the remote?”

“It might.”

“You like control.” It’s not a question. It’s a feeling that’s been growing in me since the lingerie store.

I’m not sure I’m ready to hand control of myself to him, but he has such an easy confidence that I can understand why a girl would.

His eyes flare with heat. “I want to make you feel good, and I like taking control.” He turns away while I’m still processing how openly he admits to the things he wants. “You’ll need this as well.”

I blush hot, wishing the ground would swallow me, when he presses a small container into my hand.

Lube.

I look from the bottle to him.

“It’s easier to insert with lube,” he explains.

I can’t believe I’m talking about lube with Javier Duarte.

---