Page 15 of Beneath the Scars
Holy fucking shit. This is happening.
“Areyou going to be okay by yourself this weekend?”
I raise my eyebrow at Ryan, and he laughs. “Yeah, fair enough. Make sure you eat and don’t spend the whole weekend alone. Go hang with Carson and Ginny or something.”
“Okay, Daaaad,” I mock. Guilt tries to slip in, but I shove it away. Nothing has happened yet. Addie and I are still discussing what we want from each other. Once we set some ground rules, we can decide if we’re telling people or not.
Will this just be sex? Is that all she wants? She made it clear she wants me to take her virginity, but does she want anything else from me? What if the answer is no?
I don’t think I could pass up this opportunity even if she only wants me for sex—even just one time. Now that I’ve given myself permission to do this, there’s no way I can go backward.
Ryan leaves for Greensboro a few minutes later, and the house falls silent. For the first time all week, nerves dance in my stomach. I haven’t let myself dwell on my upcoming conversation with Addie. I put together a list of my limits and then promptly shoved the whole thing to the back of my mind. I knew if I focused on it for too long, I’d start to overthink everything I need to discuss with her.
With Addie set to arrive in half an hour, I write a short list of topics I want to go over with her. Although looking at it now, it resembles a list of rules instead of discussion points. Sort of apt, given my tendencies.
1. Has to be okay with me dominating her
2. The stoplight system is nonnegotiable
3. Share her list of limits
4. I say when, where, and how
5. We keep these details between us
A knock at the door has me taking a deep breath. This is it. The turning point for every dream I’ve had about Addie. From here on, our relationship will never be the same. Good or bad, it won’t resemble what we currently have. It’ll be worth it no matter the outcome, but it’s still daunting to think about.
That deep breath I took comes rushing out of my lungs at the sight of Addie on my front step. She looks beautiful, with her curly hair wild around her shoulders and not a single touch of makeup distracting me from her piercing brown eyes.
“You gonna let me in or just keep staring?”
I roll my eyes at her teasing and wave her inside. She moves past me with all the confidence I’ve come to associate with Adalaide. It’s one of the many traits I admire about her. She’s never doubted herself or her place in the world. Even when she’s shy or unsure, she doesn’t allow that to stop her from doing the thing she wants to do.
Addie plops down on the couch and pulls out her phone.
I sit in the chair next to her so I can see her face and keep my distance. I won’t be able to concentrate if we’re sitting too close to each other. “Did you do your homework?”
Addie gives me a demure look. “Yes, professor. I hope it’s up to your standards.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, relishing in the way my silence makes her squirm. I hope like fuck she hasn’t put spanking on her hard limit list. I’d kill to pull her across my lap and show her what being a brat will get her—undeniable pleasure for us both if I have anything to say about it.
I hold my hand out instead. “Let me see it, please.”
She hesitates before bravely handing her phone over to me. I try to keep the surprise off my face while I read through what she’s written. She’s separated everything into columns of soft limits, hard limits, and curiosities. I don’t think my list of rules will be necessary now.
Before I get too deep into hers, I hand her my paper copy. It’s the one I filled out to join the BDSM club in Greensboro, including a recent printout of my test results. Whether we use condoms or not, she deserves to know I’m clean.
She gratefully takes the pages, her shoulders softening as she begins to read.
The room is silent while we take the time to learn each other’s limits. Addie’s list is comprehensive, and I’ve never been prouder of her. She has everything on here from light spanking—a curiosity—to excrement of any kind—a hard limit. Some of her soft limits are ones I’ve participated in—using a flogger—so I want to know what her definition of a soft limit is. Some people list them as things they don’t particularly care for but might be willing to do with the right person; others might see them as things they’re willing to try but would be fine to skip if their partner isn’t interested either.
I’m done before she is, and I take a moment to study her. Addie’s face is flushed, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. This is affecting her as much as it affected me. The fact that she created such a large list of limits and didn’t run away is encouraging on its own. The way she’s responding to reading my list seals the deal for me.
I’m not going to get my hopes up too soon—that will justend in heartbreak—but I finally allow myself to acknowledge that we’re more compatible than I could’ve imagined.
Addie lowers the pages in her hand, her molten gaze meeting mine. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I realize she’s waiting for me to take the lead.Already such a good girl.
“Do you have any questions about my list?”
