Page 46 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

“She pretty much demanded that I buy her a drink tonight.”

“I heard that,” I say. I can’t stop myself from adding, “Did you?”

“Of course not…but she followed me to the bar anyway and then flirted with the bartender to try to get a free drink.”

A wave of relief passes through me.

“Well, seems like that worked out for her. I saw them canoodling just before I left.”

Ryan straightens a bit and frowns. “With Eric? The tall, skinny guy with long hair?”

I nod, caught off guard by his change in tone. Ryan drags a hand slowly over his face. Maybe he knows the guy and doesn’t want him to get involved with Kayla. Whatever it is, Ryan shakes it off quickly and fires up the show.

We both relax on our respective sides of the sofa, leaving a tiny sliver of space between us. Our own little safety zone.

Chapter 16

RYAN

Halfway through the first episode, Marlow kicks her feet up onto the coffee table. It’s not the first time she’s ever done it, but it is the first time I’ve seen her do it while wearing a dress. The fabric of her skirt bunches slightly around her mid-thigh and I can’t stop myself from stealing a glance at her soft, pale skin.

Then there’s the matter of that damn strap that won’t stop falling down off her shoulder, reminding me again and again that she doesn’t seem to be wearing a bra under her dress.

When it happens again, I glance over and our eyes catch on each other for a few seconds.

I turn back toward the television, determined to stare straight ahead, but I can’t seem to stop the words from falling out of my mouth. “You’re killing me tonight in that dress.”

Marlow is silent and still beside me. The words just hang there in the air between us. I don’t look over at her. There are only two things that could happen if I do: she’ll look at me in a way that gives me a flicker of hope, or she’ll look at me in a way that silently dismisses what I’ve just said. And I’m not letting her off that easy. If she doesn’t want more, I need to hear her say it. Over and over again until we’re both convinced.

“Ryan…”

There it is – the sympathetic yet dismissive tone. Her answer to my unasked question. It’s what I needed, but not quite enough of what I needed.

I pause the show and look over at her. “Tell me your worst sex story,” I say, trying to change the tone of this conversation.

“What?” she laughs.

“Your worst sex story. A time when you did something so horrible or embarrassing that the guy stopped banging you right then and there.”

Something I can add to the ever-diminishing con side of my Marlow list.

Marlow chews on her lip while she thinks of an answer. Or maybe while she considers if she’s going to answer at all.

“Well, um, there was this guy who I had been dating for a couple months. Everything was going fine, but the sex was sort of…lacking…for both of us. I finally brought it up and asked if there was something he was into that maybe we could try. I sort of hoped he would reciprocate, but he didn’t. Instead, he was pretty eager to spill his guts about wanting to be dominated in bed. I said I’d give it a shot, but it wasn’t something I’d ever done before. It wasn’t even something I’d ever considered, honestly. So, I got all dressed up in my best attempt at a dominatrix outfit one night – fishnet stockings and this leather corset thing I ordered online, no panties…”

“You’re aware that I’m asking you to turn me off, right?” I interrupt.

She rolls her eyes. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

“No…maybe…ugh, just keep going.”

“I tied his arms and legs up to the bed like he asked, but I had no idea what to do next. Spanking was all that came to mind, but he was lying on his back, so that wouldn’t work. He asked me to slap him around a little bit, but not too hard. I tried my best to oblige. I got a couple decent slaps in, but then I was lost again.So, I pinched his nose…and the next thing you know, I’m doing the full-on ‘got your nose’ routine, like he’s a toddler. I didn’t even know penises could go limp so quickly.”

Lucky bastard. I’ve never had even an inkling of desire to be dominated, but the idea of a panty-less Marlow straddling me…well, it’s not making me any limper. She can have my nose.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about that with me,” I finally manage to say.

“Not into being dominated?”

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