Before going back to bed, he went into the bathroom and started the shower. Towels out, water warming, he went back to the bed. “C’mon, woman. Up ya go.” He grabbed her wrists to pull her upright, then helped her slide to sit on the edge. After unscrewing the cap, he handed her the bottle. “Drink. Slow, but at least a third of it.”
As she drank, he grabbed their clothes from the floor and dropped them in the laundry hamper. “What do you want to wear to bed?”
He heard the lilt of teasing in her voice when she asked, “Is nothing an option?”
Crossing over to her, he swiped the bottle from her hand, downing a large amount of water in two swallows. He capped the bottle and put it on the nightstand. “You wearing nothing is always an option, as far as I’m concerned. Let’s go. Into the shower so we can get some sleep.”
It was a fight to keep himself from pushing her up against the wall in the shower, but he managed. There was going to be a discussion in a few minutes that he wasn’t sure how it would go, and he didn’t want his dick to interfere. Instead, he kept to his end of the shower and let her take care of what she needed to do.
Afterward, he pulled on a pair of loose sleep pants while he watched her crawl across the bed naked and slip under the sheets to sit up against the headboard. “So no options for another round?” she asked, eyeing the pants.
He chuckled. “Again, always an option. However, I was going to be a gentleman and not maul you again tonight since thisdynamic is new for us, plus you’re coping with being home.” He slipped in beside her. “And believe it or not, I am one of those weirdos who can’t sleep naked.”
“You can’t sleep naked?”
“Nope.”
“But… what if you just had sex?” She gestured to the bed as if to say, “Like we just did.”
He ran his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly to air out the strands. “Well, I guess, to be honest, I’ve never slept in a bed with anyone other than you. Not sure that it makes a difference.” He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to test it at some point when I might not have to hop out of bed in an emergency.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly. The stunned-silent look on her face was kind of cute.
“Wait, hold on. I’m the only woman who’s been in your bed?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, so I get that. Men are territorial, and a woman in your bed implies you want them to stay. But you’ve slept in other women’s beds, right?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“But you’ve had a lot of sex, I’m guessing.”
“Don’t need to be in a bed to have sex, Glennon.”
She stared at him.
“You’ve never had sex in a bed?” She held a strand of hair in her hand, brushing the ends back and forth across her lips. “What about girlfriends?”
“What about them?”
“You’ve never slept with any of your girlfriends?”
“I don’t count high school because that’s a whole different thing, but I should warn you, I used to date our friend Panama. You haven’t met her yet. Short version is that it was an amicable split at graduation when I went to the NSA and she stayed here.We were each other’s firsts, and we were typical high school kids, so it didn’t happen in a bed.
“There are no feelings there anymore other than friendship, on either side, and haven’t been since we broke up.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, when I first went off to work for the NSA, I was working way too many hours to even think about having sex, let alone going out and finding it. When Cosmos introduced me to the BDSM stuff, my first partner was on a contract. It’s common in the lifestyle for people, especially if they’re learning, to sign a contract of exclusivity with someone to keep the waters less murky.
“I was with her during the run of my time in Chicago. When I went back to Washington, I had two different contracts with two different women, both of who were lovely people, but none of us were looking to spend time with each other outside the club scene. Otherwise, all my partners have had quite a bit of space between them, were one-offs, and all happened at the club.”
“I honestly don’t know how to process that.”
He rolled his head to his right to look at her. “Nothing to process. At least, I don’t think so.”
“How does this”—she waved a hand between them—“even begin to work, then?”
“There are committed couples in this type of dynamic who hang out at the club. I’ve never asked them how it works for them. There’s not a whole lot of conversation that happens there. At least, I haven’t been part of any.” He frowned. “There probably is in the bar area, but I never hang out there.”
“You’re just as bad as me, aren’t you?”
