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Well, shit. My composure is quickly unravelling at the seams, and my panties are wet. He leans further forward, bowing his body toward me over the top of the table.
“I kind of wish you’d worn a skirt so I could touch you right here in the coffee shop.”
My mouth goes dry. I think it’s because every molecule of water in my body has gone straight to my crotch. “You wouldn’t.” My voice is croaky, hoarse, and there’s more than a little surprise lacing my words.
“I not only would. But we’d both enjoy it.”
“Are you always so cocky?” Why is my voice so damn breathy?
“I prefer confident. Cocky suggests I can’t follow through on my promises.”
My heart skips faster as he regards me with such a heated stare I’m afraid he’s burning holes in my clothes with his eyeballs. He’d really touch me in front of all these people? “Exhibitionist?”
It’s his turn to nod. He picks up his drink, and I can’t help my lingering glance at his lips as he sips from the cup. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Falling quiet for a moment, I contemplate his words. My instinct is to say “fuck no, it won’t be a problem” I don’t want to bang him anywhere where someone might see. Exhibitionism is not my thing. But the fantasy building in my head sends fissions of excitement through my nerves, and I wonder if there might be something there. Something he could perhaps help me explore.
I’m comfortable enough in my own skin, not averse to people watching him do things to me, but it’s maybe the thrill of being caught that has me intrigued. I’m not entirely sure.
“I don’t think so.” My voice has dropped to a whisper.
“Good. I’d hoped not. It’s super important for us both to be honest throughout this discussion, okay?”
That sounds like there’s a story there, something that has him being so emphatic, but before I can open my mouth to ask, he keeps going.
“I’ve had bad experiences in the past. Clear communication is vital. You have to be transparent with me. And I’ll reciprocate. We can’t build solid trust if there’s poor communication."
I nod, not sure what to say.
“Do you want to start with your hard limits?”
It’s probably not a bad plan. It’s always good to know what lines you shouldn’t cross. But considering I’m pretty new to this entire scene, I don’t know what I don’t know.
“I don’t like having anything around my throat.” That one’s a hard limit for sure. My ex tried to choke me once, and things got just a little too out of hand. I passed out. Woke up to him freaking out and on the phone to his brother—a doctor like my sister Izzie—and vowed never to let anyone touch the front of my neck again.
Never.
Shuddering, I examine his face. I expect curiosity, probing eyes, a question hanging on his lips about my why. But he doesn’t so much as bat an eyelid. “Nothing around your throat. Okay. I can respect that.”
Knots in my shoulders unwind. The fact he’s not making me explain myself warms something inside me. He knows I don’t owe him an explanation, and if he’s curious, he’s showing no outward signs.
“I don’t know if I’m into anal.” My face heats as the words tumble clumsily from my mouth.
“Never tried it? Or never tried it successfully?” There’s no judgment or mocking in his tone. He’s asking me about butt stuff like he’s taking my breakfast order.
“Never tried it.”
“Curi-ass? Or not at all interested?”
I burst out laughing at his terrible joke, drawing looks from people seated at the tables around us. For half a second I forgot we were in public, surrounded by people living their lives. To compensate for my obnoxious laughter, I take a long sip of my macchiato, which goes down the wrong tube and makes me cough.
You couldn’t write this shit. Thankfully cream and syrup don’t come out my nose, and I don’t spray the front of Thor’s shirt with regurgitated coffee. “I think I’m curi-ass.” I choke out between coughing fits.
My face is undoubtedly red, my eyes watering, and I’m more than grateful to the creator of smudge-proof mascara or I’d look like a fucking panda to boot.
He nods, taking another mouthful from his drink. “Anything else you can think of off the bat?”
I already want the ground to swallow me whole, there’s every chance someone around us can hear every word. And while I’m down for a little exhibitionism, I don’t really want to inflict my sex life on the unsuspecting general public.
