Page 45 of Taking Turns

I know it is.

But I don’t care. They’re right. I’m addicted to the dark. I want what they’re offering and I don’t care.

I kiss Smith back. I want more of him, even as I feel the repulsion inside me.

“Chella,” Smith says, trying to get my attention. Like he knows what I’m thinking.

And even that pisses me off. Why does he get to see through me? After all this time, after all the walls I’ve put up, after all the years of denial and self-deprivation, why now, when I have it well under control? Why now?

I know why.

Rochelle came to me. She slipped inside my life. Became my friend. She saw through me immediately, didn’t she? Just like Smith.

That book…

“Chella,” Smith repeats. He pulls out of the kiss and backs away one step. Two.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my words coming out in ragged gasps.

Smith smiles down at me. Places both hands flat against both my cheeks. “The toast is over, love.”

I look at the two glasses of champagne. Still full and sitting on the counter. “What?”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Smith says, stroking my cheek. He’s got the other hand on his cock, a thick outline beneath his trousers. I place my hand over his and then we switch places, his strong hand on mine, urging me once again to stroke him. “But I have a lot of rules.”

I’m watching our hands. The way he guides me to move the way he likes it. I memorize that movement so I can do again later without his help.

“Look at me,” he says.

I do. I look up.

“Unzip my pants and take out my cock and my balls.”

I nod at him. Say, “Yes, OK.” And do just as he asks.

“Make me come.”

I keep eye contact as I cup his balls with one hand and stroke him with the other. Long strokes. Slow, then faster. I want to get down on my knees and put him in my mouth. But he’s got a hold on my hair. A hold so tight, it’s pulling on my scalp.

So I just open my mouth and lock my eyes with his as I keep going.

The smile he gives me might be worth all his bullshit. He has a dimple in one cheek that I’ve never seen before. Maybe because I’ve never seen a real smile from him.

“Do you want to know my rules, Chella?”

“Yes,” I say in a throaty whisper. “Tell me the rules. I can follow them, I promise.”

He lets go of my hair and pets my head. “I’m happy to hear that. Now open your legs wide and give me full access.” I comply. Willingly. Immediately. And then his hand slides back up under my dress and his fingers begin to play.

I close my eyes and drop my head back a little. Allowing myself to enjoy it.

“Does it feel good?”

“Mmmmm,” I manage.

He flattens his hand and begins to rub his fingertips across my clit in short, quick bursts. I’m on edge. I’m so close. I stroke him harder, wanting him to come with me when I can’t stand it any longer.

He’s moaning. I’m moaning. And then…