Page 27 of Eye of the Hurricane
“Do you wear dresses to bed or what?” I ask. She gives me a huff of annoyance and sticks one of her hands on her hip.
“Yeah, actually I sleep in a full face of makeup and high heels, too. Don’t even own pajamas,” she remarks sarcastically.
“Well, this is the second time I’ve come here this time of night, and both times you’ve been in a dress still,” I insist.
“Just come inside, Ares,” she groans. I don’t miss the slightest smile she’s fighting back. My name on her lips never gets old. I follow her into the house and into her living room. “I just haven’t gotten ready for bed yet.”
“I think I prefer the fantasy that you’re always in one of your sexy little dresses.”
“How do you know my pajamas aren’t the real fantasy? Maybe I sleep in lace lingerie.”Jesus.I don’t know what’s better, the mischievous look in her eye or the image she just put in my head.
“Show me some mercy, Kat. Don’t put that picture in my head,” I plead.
I know immediately I’ll be seeing that imagein my head again. Next time probably soaking wet in the shower with a hand wrapped around my cock.
“I like that you think of me that way,” she admits, amused. She looks at me with a tilted head like what I’ve just said is the most interesting thing she’s ever heard.
A woman nearly ready to thank me for sexualizing her is a new one. I like it, though. Something about a strong woman who doesn’t shy away from her sexuality ishot.
“Well, honey, I can assure you I’m not the only one.”
“I know that. But it’s nice to hear it from someone who knows me.”
I take too long trying to make sense of the underlying meaning. I wonder who made her feel like she’s only likable on the surface.
“Is that what you called me here for? Ego boost?” I tease.
“No, I was hoping we could talk about our arrangement. Maybe set some ground rules. I’m big on structure and rules.”
I suck in a loud and expressive gasp. “You? You like structure?” I let my jaw hang open for maximum effect. She narrows her eyes at me before rolling them and shaking her head.
“Don’t be mean,” she says with a jut of her bottom lip.
“Just messing with you, Kitty Kat. I was thinking the same thing.”
“Really?” There’s something bright in her tone, something I can’t quite name.
“Yes, really. When we were at the aquarium, I didn’t know to hold your hand because we never really talked about what practice would look like. I don’t want to push your boundaries.”
If I had it my way, I would never take my hands off of her. I’d have them everywhere on her. I know I can’t do that,though. Which is what reminded me that I don’t know what I can do at all. Hence, wanting to set those boundaries.
“I guess I’m just thinking of the wedding. The little intimacies that let you know two people are together. We don’t have those because we aren’t together, but I think we need them to sell this,” she says, waving her hands between her and me.
I don’t disagree. Calling it a date and holding her hand isn’t enough to sell this thing as a real relationship. Especially when she’s already going to have suspicious parents watching our every move.
“Okay, what do you have in mind?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I’ve never been someone’s girlfriend before. You tell me.”
“Why don’t you just let me know where your boundaries lie and I’ll take care of it from there,” I suggest.
“No kissing, that feels like a slippery slope to sex. Which is also off the table.”
It’s all of the self-restraint I’ve got not to push her buttons. Ask her why she thinks she can’t kiss me without having sex with me. I let her be, though. Mostly because I have to imagine this is beyond uncomfortable for her. Partially because I agree with her. I don’t think Kat and I could kiss without tearing each other’s clothes off.
“Okay, no kissing, no sex, what else?”
“No feelings. I’m looking at you. I can’t offer more than this and I don’t want to hurt you.”
