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The release comes fast and hard, the pleasure of it more intense than it should be for a quick jerk off in the shower. Hearing her tell me she's coming as if she'd whispered the words in my ear brought me far more pleasure than I should have had. I like pleasing women, but it's never driven my own orgasm before. And I've never had a problem with ejaculation control; this shouldn't be any different.

But my release overwhelms me, making my vision go dark as the water washes away any evidence of my actions.

I glance toward my bedroom, but Stacia is nowhere to be seen. Which is for the best, of course, but some part of me still wishes things had transpired a bit differently.

This whole arrangement should have been simple, easy, even fun. Instead, it’s already a jumbled mess of emotions, doubt, and worry. How long can we keep up the façade? More importantly, how long can I keep my hands to myself?

Because if she’s going to spend nearly every moment trying to seduce me… this isn’t going to be easy.

Chapter Eight

Stacia

The shower shut off a good five minutes ago; surely he’s dressed by now… right?

I take a deep breath and walk into the bedroom. Nathan is sitting on the edge of the bed and I know right away that he's done processing our encounter.

I can't blame him for stopping me, but I’m surprised he’s worried about either of us getting hurt. I’m also not proud of not being totally honest with him. I'm not a virgin or a monk, but I'm not that experienced, either. Just the thought of him taking me to bed hasn't stopped making my heart pound and sending my body on a wild hormonal ride all over again.

"Do you think it's possible to forget what's happened between us and start over?" I ask.

He glances up at me and I can't decipher the look on his face.

"Maybe," he says.

"It was just a moment of lust, stupidity, and one of my fantasies," I admit, staring at the floor as I grab one arm just above the elbow and will my face to cool down.

"One of your fantasies?" He arches an eyebrow at me. "What are some of the others?"

"Being bossed around." I shouldn’t be saying this. I shouldn’t be throwing gasoline on this fire because he’s right; someone will get hurt. I don’t want to be the one and I don’t want him hurt either.

"You like being told what to do?" he asks, his tone darkening.

I realize he is probably assuming he's turned me on before, now that he knows this. I nod, choosing my words carefully. "I like the idea of being controlled in the bedroom, but I don't like to be forced. I like to be teased and I like when he's in charge, but I don't want to be forced to do anything I don't want to do. With someone I trust, I want to submit to his demands, I want to please him, and I want to be pleased."

His eyes narrow as he blows out his breath. "You're making this harder."

I swallow. "I know." With an evil grin, I stare at the front of his pants. He glances at me, letting out a wicked chuckle.

"All right, then. You'd like me to tease you until you're begging me to fuck you?"

I nod, spilling another truth I shouldn't admit. "I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about it. And I'd love to have you please me, but if you do it too much, I worry it'll be hard to stop." There, I honestly validated his fear and admitted I have the same concern.

All of a sudden, I'm feeling hot. I lick my lips nervously, wishing I hadn't just said the things I said. I don't want to think about how things could go wrong, but damn, he's hot and sexy and I want him. All of him.

This fake engagement is going to destroy me, I know it, and I'm going to enjoy every second.

"Let's have dinner, relax with one another, talk, and come back to all of this," he gestures around us with the wave of his hand, "later."

I nod, feeling the air escaping my lungs. Not the answer I wanted, but one that's perfectly understandable. He's being way smarter about this than I am. Maybe because I had a crush on him coming into this arrangement is making me a little more rash, but he's watching out for both of us. What's not to like about Nathan?

"Dinner it is, then," I say. "What's there to eat around here?"

He holds up his phone. "I already ordered. I hope that's okay."

I smile. "I like surprises. What do I owe you?"

He seems confused at first, then shakes his head. "Nothing. My treat."

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