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“When you’re in my bed, you’re in my bed and no other. No other man touches you.”
I’m on shaky ground. It’s not just her who doesn’t date. I seldom date women, but mostly because of my job. It’s too early to press. Too early to make a stand. But I don’t fucking care. There’s something building between us. Something I don’t understand.
But I know I want to see where it leads.
Even if it’s far too fast.
“We can have all the fun you want. We can keep things light—just sex. Or, you can live out your darkest fantasies without judgment, and I won’t tell a soul what you do when you’re with me, or what you let me do to you.”
In the Navy, as a U.S. SEAL, dating was impossible with the tempo of our missions, the unpredictability of when we got sent out, or for how long. It takes a special woman to deal with that. In the end, like many, I gave up.
I still scratched that itch when our missions ended, but now I need more. I’m just beginning to understand that.
I know very little about Barbi, but I’m perceptive enough to guess a few things. She likes nameless sex for a reason. Someone she trusted hurt her and controlling her ability to walk away is her way of protecting herself. I need to proceed with extreme caution.
She stares at me, speechless, but the hitching of her breath, the way her tits lift and lower, tell me everything I need to know. She needs to hear this.
Needs to feel it.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“No you don’t.” She shakes her head, lifting a hand between us as if it’s a shield that will keep me back.
I wrangle back control of the conversation, “Sometimes a fuck is more than a fuck.” I ache to discover what keeps her away from emotional intimacy.
“Don’t.” She shakes her head and places the palm of her hand against my chest.
“Don’t, what?” I lean against her palm but keep my hands to myself. This isn’t the time for a physical display of dominance. This is me getting into her head. Opening up a crack to let me see inside.
“I can’t do this.” Fear makes her shrink back from me. She finds the doorknob, frantic to get out of here. Desperate to run.
“Why not?” The air turns heavy with my questions. Until I understand her motives, there is no moving forward, and I very much want to move forward.
We dance around the issue and I’m intensely curious about her reactions.
“You can run from me like you did at the club. When things get too intense for you, that’s what you do.” I make a sweeping gesture toward the door. “But this time, when you run from me, I’m going to chase you. I’m going to catch you. I’m going to make you face your fears.”
“Alec…” She lifts her hand, palm out, facing me, pushing me away. “Please… Please, don’t make me do this.”
“This? Can you be more specific?”
“Relationships. That’s not what I want.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
“Because, why?”
Her eyes meet mine and I swear the walls around her crumble ever so slightly—something raw and vulnerable is hidden behind all that fear.
“Don’t make me answer that. It’s complicated. I… Please, just don’t.”
It’s as if a tiny crack opens in the fortifications protecting her heart. We’re not in a place where I can make her do anything, but she’s already building the bridge that will ultimately bind us together.
I won’t make her answer me, even though I’m dying to know the answer, but the fact she thinks I can force her to do anything says many things.
