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The fact he’d already told her he wasn’t sure he could give it to her, yet she was asking him for it again made him wonder—was it really her kink, or was she just so damn desperate to come, she’d try anything?
If he wasn’t careful, he could do more damage than good.
“Please,” Skylar cried. “Please, Julian. I want it. I need it. Please help me, please.”
She was almost crying now, and he wanted to give her what she at least thought she wanted, but he needed to slow things down. She was being swept away by passion, just like he was, but if he was going to truly consider her request, he needed her to take a breath. Take some time. Make sure it was what she truly wanted. And make sure she had no doubt in her mind that she wanted it withhim.
He pulled back slightly and started to lower her to her feet. When she cried out and resisted, he said, “Shh, baby. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you. I’m going to give you what you need. But first, we need to talk. Okay?”
At that, she nodded and quieted, trying to calm herself. Her feet touched the ground. He tugged down the T-shirt she was wearing and wrapped his arms around her. Finally, when she was breathing comfortably again, her cheek resting against his chest, he stroked her hair and said, “I need to make sure you know what you’re asking for and that it’s truly what you want, not what you think of as a last resort. If the time ever comes that I do what you’re asking, thatwith your consent,I force you to give it to me, I need to do it knowing you’ll make me stop if it becomes too much.”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Say it,” he said.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled back and tilted her head to look up at him.
Then she said, in a strong and steady voice, “Aphrodite.”
As soon as the word passed her lips, Julian kissed her again. And he didn’t stop for a very long time.
* * *
After she saidthe safe word and Julian kissed the hell out of her, she was understandably expecting him to take her into his bedroom and fuck her into the mattress. Instead, he’d held her and then said, “I want to take you somewhere. Will you come with me?”
Right now, she’d let him take her anywhere. Wherever he led, she’d follow. But where? To a hotel room where he kept his handcuffs and floggers? It soured her stomach to think it might be someplace he brought his clients, and she immediately wanted to refuse, but she forced herself not to.
No matter how tenderly Julian kissed or held her, no matter how much she sensed he genuinely cared for her and wanted to help her, they weren’t in a committed relationship and never would be.
He was being a good sport, and no, she wasn’t an idiot—she knew he would be getting something out of all this, too, even if it was just getting his rocks off and cementing, even in his own mind, his reputation as a man whoneverfailed to give a woman an orgasm. But so what? He obviously had earned it.
Once Julian made her come, there would be no reason for them to see each other again, and as much as that filled her with pain—she knew now that she cared about Julian, far more than just for his sexual prowess—that would be best. She’d return to her career, but maybe, just maybe, she’d be in a position someday to seek out love again, something she never would have thought possible after her disastrous time with Rex.
Rex, who she had to thank for meeting Julian.
Maybe she should send him a fruit basket.
She giggled at the thought, and Julian tilted his head. “What?”
She shook her head then, unable to resist, kissed him softly.
“Ask me again,” she said.
He smirked—God, she’d grown to love that smirk—then said, “I want to take you somewhere. Will you come with me?”
“Absolutely, positively yes,” she said.
32
Thirty minutes later, Julian stopped in front of a building and pulled a door open, but it wasn’t the door to a fancy hotel like she’d been expecting. Skylar frowned in confusion, staring at the old sign above her head. Only half the letters were illuminated, and half of those flickered off and on with the buzz of neon. “This is a pizza place. I made you sandwiches and a salad. If you were hungry, why didn’t we just eat at your place?”
“Because this isn’t justanypizza place,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “This is Antonio’s, the best pizza place in the city. Come on, you’re in for a treat.”
She peered inside, casting her gaze around, taking in the dingy, linoleum-floored, seemingly sticky-tabled pizza joint. “You like this place?” she asked.
“Love it.”
Skylar’s eyebrows knitted together, but she stepped into the pizza joint, and he let the door slam shut behind them, the little bell announcing their presence. Despite the dingy floors and tables, a quick glance into the open kitchen confirmed it was unexpectedly organized and clean.
