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And there was that ruthlessness about him then, and a hint of those hard, stern lines to his face that had undone her earlier. She squirmed in her chair, and when his gaze got that much greener, she knew he saw it. And knew why.
“Hit me with all your clarity, then,” she dared him.
His smile was not reassuring. “There are only two things you need to know. I’m going to tell you exactly what I want. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to wonder if I’m liking something or not liking something. You don’t have to concern yourself with whether or not I’m having fun. I’ll tell you.”
She blinked, her mind reeling as she tried to connect that to her supposedly easygoing best friend. “Do people normally worry?”
But even as she asked that, she knew better. Had she evernotfelt self-conscious during sex? Had she ever not tried to imagine what was going on as if she was crouched on the ceiling, looking down? And she’d certainly been guilty of checking out a partner’s face to make sure he was still enjoying himself. Or to see if she could move things along.
“All you have to do is what I tell you to do,” Dylan said, and his voice was easy. Almost lazy. But she could see that look in his eyes and she knew he wasn’t kidding.
“That’s a bit bossy, Dylan. Don’t you think?”
“I’m a bit bossy, Jenny. As it happens.”
She laughed, but he didn’t. And suddenly her own laugh made her feel much too restless. “Oh. Well. How bossy?”
His eyes seemed greener, then. “Very, very bossy.”
“What if... What if I don’t like being bossed about?”
But he only smiled. “You liked it well enough when I had your pussy in my mouth.”
And once again, he didn’t laugh. He didn’t break. This wasn’therDylan, something in her whispered. This was someone else altogether, and she couldn’t possibly figure out how she felt about that. Because she felt too many things at once. And her pussy was hot and wet, and it pulsed.
“This is your secret?” Her voice was far huskier than it had been before. She couldn’t seem to help it. “You’re... I mean, are you a...?”
“I’m a man who likes to be in charge.” Another dark, stirring smile. “And I like my sex the way I like everything else, Jenny. I like it when it’s mine.”
“Oh,” she breathed, in a sudden rush of understanding. “This is the talk.”
“It is.”
“So what happens if a woman says she’d rather not let you boss her around to your heart’s content, thanks very much?” She frowned at him. “Is that it? Sex off the table?”
“I never take sex off the table.” Again, there was that little crook in the corner of his mouth that was so different from the friendly grin she associated with him that she honestly couldn’t tell if she wanted to smack it off his mouth, or put her own lips against it. Maybe both. “Usually I offer a wee challenge, to see if she likes what I have to offer.”
“And what if she doesn’t?”
“I wouldn’t know.” That little crook deepened. “It’s never happened.”
She blew out a little huff of something that could as easily have been outrage as lust. Or as seemed to be the case with Dylan, all of the above. And everything had already shifted between them, outrageously. Why not take it further?
“I accept this challenge,” she told him, grandly. “You can try to convince me.”
She didn’t expect him to laugh, then, but he did. And this laugh, she recognized. It was vintage Dylan, delighted and long.
“Why is that funny?” she asked, flushing.
“I’ve just had my face between your legs,” he replied. “And unless I miss my guess, that’s not something you’d say you much enjoy, generally.”
“What does that have to do anything?”
And the laughter on his face turned too quickly to stern intent. “I already know that you like to be told what to do, Jenny.”
Her flush got worse. Red and hot. “If you already know, then why are we having this conversation?”
“Because you don’t know what you know,” he said with a shrug, as if that was simple. “Your whole life has been filled with sorry wankers who made you work to get yourself off. It took me moments.”
