Page 20 of Savage in the Sheets
Jenna
Sitting across from Weston at ImPress, the local café, I set my notebook down in front of me and take a long sip of my raspberry mocha, wishing there was alcohol in it to lend me courage.
Weston’s lips upturn into a sly grin, his gaze trained on me in a way I’m not used to. Has he always been this hot? I don’t remember his eyes ever being this blue before. What else have I missed about him?
He drums his fingers on the table when I fail to initiate conversation after several minutes. “Okay, Rosie, where do we begin?”
Furrowing my brow aggressively at him and barely stifling my laughter, I start with, “Kissing…”
“You seemed to enjoy that.”
“But is it too personal? Should we discontinue the kissing, so we don’t—”
“We keep the kissing,” Weston says firmly.
“Okay, touching clothed body parts?”
“Is important to the mission,” he interjects.
“Touching over underwear?”
Weston brushes his fingers through his hair. “Wow, I thought this was going to be more of a first, second, third base kind of thing.”
“I just want to make sure there are no surprises.”
“Sometimes, surprises are good.” He casts me a wink.
I shove the notebook in my purse. “What did you have in mind?”
“Your wish is my command.”
“Pardon?”
“What I mean is, I’m at your disposal. Whatever you want to do, I’m here for. If you just want to sit back, relax, and let me drive—prepare to buckle up because it’s going to be a fast ride.”
“So, you have premature ejaculation issues?”
His cheeks flush pink. “What—no! It’s just a saying. It’s possible I botched it.”
I crack a grin. “I know.”
“Look, I know you’re a super-smart lawyer type that plans for everything, but I think with this, we need to wing it.”
“Wing it?”
“See where it goes.”
“I don’t think I can go full Wilma Flintstone out the gate.”
“How do we go about this, then? You go over your list, and we decide what is and is not allowed, then go back to your apartment to practice?”
“I was thinking we would carry it out in stages. If at any stage one of us is uncomfortable, we stop.”
Weston bobs his head in agreement. “Alright, it’s a start. Do you have said stages mapped out?”
“Stage One: kissing, petting on top of clothes, dry humping. Stage Two: everything in Stage One minus the clothes. “Stage Three: everything in Stage One and Two, adding intercourse.”
“Stage Four—anal!” he says without missing a beat.
