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"You can have all the salad and grilled fish you want." She drags her fingertips up my forearms. "You're thinking something you aren't saying."
I nod.
"You don't want to talk about it?"
Again, I nod.
She motions to the living room. "You still want to get me naked?"
I place my hand on her thigh, my fingertips skimming the edge of her t-shirt. "What if I want you naked right here?"
"In Orange County? I'll get arrested."
Probably true.
I lean in to whisper in her ear, "Take off your panties."
"Here?"
I nod.
Her brown eyes meet mine. She holds my gaze as she slides her panties to her ankles.
"You trust me?" I ask.
She nods.
"To do whatever I want with you?"
This time, her breath catches in her throat. The flush in her cheeks spreads down to her chest. She squeezes her knees together. It's not modesty. It's an attempt to contain her desire.
I let my voice drop to that low, demanding tone. "I need a yes, Lacey."
"Yes." Her words are a whisper. A plea.
She needs me erasing all the bad memories of her ex ignoring her, rejecting her, sending her the message that she wasn't worth desire.
I need to clear my head.
To be in control of something again.
This is win/win.
I lean in to whisper. "Go upstairs, strip naked, lie on the bed, spread your legs, and wait for me."
"For how long?"
"Until I'm ready."
Her pupils dilate. This mix of desire and confusion spreads over her expression. She wants this. She can't believe that she wants this.
"Do I need a safe word or something?" she asks.
Fuck, she's earnest about it.
Honest.
"Not this time," I say.
