Page 71 of She’s Worth the Risk

I look at the sketchbook sitting on the coffee table, thinking about how it's felt to draw again. Cathartic. Expansive. A relief.

Being intimate with her feels the same, but she’s right, I’m holding back. I’m holding myself so damn tightly, it’s a wonder I’ve managed to come at all.

“What do you want to try?” I ask, half curious, half terrified.

She laughs, squeezing my arm. “Relax. I’m not suggesting a threesome or to film ourselves or anything.”

A relieved chuckle slips from me, and I let her tug me into the bedroom. She pushes the door closed, then turns around so her back is flush to my front, motioning to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door. I didn’t install it. It was there when I moved in. I make a habit of avoiding it.

But now, she makes me look. I take in the couple before us. Zinnia, with her gorgeous hourglass figure in that dress, those dark bangs across her forehead, the fierce desire in her eyes. And some other guy I barely recognize, much older than her, gray in his hair and beard, glasses crooked on his nose, frown on his brow. The frown smooths, and Zinnia smiles.

“I want you to watch yourself, Nick.”

I blink. “Watch myself?”

She nods. “Watch yourself fuck me.”

“But…” I scratch my chin, confused. “Why?”

“I want you to get out of your head and see what I see. That your passion is beautiful, not shameful. That when you let go, you don’t lose yourself. You become more yourself.”

Shit.

My heart jumps as I meet her gaze in the reflection. The thought of being exposed and seeing myself like that, seeing that loss of composure, churns my stomach.

But as I take in the hopeful look on her face, I know I’ll do it.

For her.

“That’s really what you want?”

“That’s really what I want,” she says. She turns back, stroking my cheek gently. “You need to know… there’s no judgment from me, no shame. You could never disappoint me, Nick. It’s safe to lose control with me, okay?”

Emotion rushes up inside me, taking me by surprise, but I quickly swallow it. I want to believe her. The truth is, I want to let go with her, to give in to whatever this thing is between us without reservation. I want to do everything I can with her, while I still have the chance.

And if she thinks this will work, I’m prepared to try.

“Let me be your Jackson Pollock canvas,” she whispers, her lips lifting in a smile.

I exhale, dropping my forehead to hers. “Okay,” I say hoarsely, and she presses her mouth to mine. I start to remove my glasses, but Zinnia stops me with a wry twist of her lips.

“Nice try, but you’ll need these to see.”

Dammit. I give her a sheepish smile, pushing them back up my nose. She’s not kidding around with this, and it makes me want to take it seriously. To do it properly for her. For me too.

For us.

“Besides,” she adds, giving me a dirty smile, “I love those glasses. You look so sexy in them.”

Surprise socks me in the chest. I’ve worn glasses since I was fourteen, and not once have I considered them something a woman might like. I gave zero consideration to the frames when selecting them, and I’ve never updated the style. They’re practical, nothing more.

But to Zinnia, they are more. It seems everything about me is more to her.

“Thank you,” she says, rising on her toes to brush her lips to mine. “I love that you’re willing to try this with me. And if there’s anything you want me to do for you, say the word.”

An image flashes through my head—of Zinnia entering my office, closing the door, bending over my desk—and my cock thickens in response. Not that I’d ever do it, of course, but… it’s nice to know she’d be willing if I wanted to. Something tells me this woman would be willing to do anything I asked.

You can do whatever you like to me.