Page 23 of Keeper
And Nigel was right. Holy fuck was my nipple sensitive.
Booker’s posture straightens as he scoots to the edge of the sofa. His shoulders seem broad and tense, his eyes extra shiny as he watches me with a determined stare. He repeats himself. “Did Nigel pierce your nipple?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“But he was there,” he pries.
“Yes.”
“Did he pressure you to do it?”
“No.”
“Bollocks,” he snaps, his tone assertive, making me feel three feet tall.
I examine the way he’s looking at me and note the slight lift of his shoulders. The tension in his arms.Is he trying to fucking keeper me again?
I straighten my posture, brushing back some wisps of blonde hair from my eyes so I can meet his stare. “He suggested it, but in the end, I did it for myself. He never got to…play with it or whatever.”
“What?” He’s staring even harder at me now.
“It was bloody painful!” I exclaim. “I was so traumatised I couldn’t do the other one and I blamed him. I never let anybody…” My voice trails off as I realise what I’ve admitted out loud.
The room is quiet as Booker processes what I’ve just said.
Thankfully, he shows mercy by changing the subject. “Did you date a lot of guys in Germany?”
My shoulders slump. “Didn’t we already try talking about this?”
“No,” he scoffs.
“Something close at least.”
“So what?” he baulks.
“Well, Booker, considering we’ve never talked about relationships, I don’t see why you’re so curious now.”
“Things change.” He shrugs like we’re having a normal conversation.
I exhale heavily. “What do you want to know?”
“How many?” The question is instant. No pause, no hesitation. He’s been sitting on it for a while.
I’m going to make him sweat. “How many what?”
He rolls his eyes. “How many blokes did you sleep with?”
I scoff, “I wasn’t a virgin when I went to Uni, Booker.”
“You weren’t?”
“No!” I screech.
“Who was it?” he asks, sitting up and looking almost perturbed by the revelation that my innocence was taken without his knowledge.
I cross my arms over my chest and shoot him as much attitude as I can muster. “I don’t see why it matters, but it was Giles Windsor.”
“What?” Booker says with a laugh. “You’re lying.”
