AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ah… boundaries.
And Melly wouldn’t do casual. She’d said she wouldn’t be like her mom because who wanted to be remembered as the infamous marriage wrecker? That title was putting too much blame solely on Valerie Price because it took two to tango. As far as I knew, she never tripped and fell on the mayor’s dick by mistake.
But prickles of something had crawled along the back of my neck since we hung up earlier. I’d thought Melly cautious the night before at the bar because she was inexperienced. Now I wondered if something had happened. Something with a man. If her mother had ever pushed not just her sexual attitudes onto Melly, but sex itself.
My statement about killing anyone who hurt her stood.
Her green eyes widened. Maybe saying those two things together crossed each other out–killing someone and keeping her safe–but no one would touch her if I had my way.
“I have a woodchipper and own a shit ton of forest.”
Her mouth fell open and then she laughed. I couldn’t help but grin.
“I feel safe with you,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Then say it, Melly.” I ran a finger down her cheek. Soft as fucking silk.
A little frown crinkled her brow. “Say what?”
“Say what you want. You’re safe with me. Your body. Your thoughts. Everything.”
She licked her lips as if she could taste the words on the tip of her tongue.
“Say it,” I repeated.
“I want your dick. But–”
“But you need boundaries.” Reaching down, I adjusted myself and her gaze dropped to watch. “You want it? Gotta sign that contract first.”
She flushed as she realized she was ogling. Unless she had a shitty prescription for her glasses, she couldn’t miss the thick outline on my dick in my jeans. “Right.”
I set the condoms down and grabbed the blank paper I grabbed from the printer in my home office earlier. Held it up. “Thought we could write it together.”
She nibbled on her lip. “Good idea.”
“I know you’re good with toys, but what’s your take on anal?”
19
MELLY
My mouth dropped open,but I didn’t say anything. He cocked an eyebrow and with the corner of his mouth tipped up, he seemed bemused.
By me. I had a feeling–based on his far-from-vanilla attitude toward sex–that he was serious but brought it up now to get me to react. At least blush.
Which worked.
“Maybe we should start with our names and work out the particulars later,” I suggested. I wasn’t going to admit first thing that I read a really hot anal scene in a recent book and wanted to try to enact it.
He snagged a pen which rested beside the paper. “Right. I think we know our names. It’s not like we’re sharing this with anyone else.” He paused and met my gaze with his dark one. “Unless you’re into being shared.”
I immediately laughed and took off my coat, suddenly overly warm. He took it from me and tossed it on one of the breakfast bar stools. “Shared? As if. One guy at a time.”
“Good. I’m not sharing you.”
He wrote something down, then held the paper up. In neat, all capital letters, it said NO SHARING.
I eyed the whisky but shifted my gaze to Daniel. I drove here and was inside his house. I wanted this. My vagina was telling me to go for it. “How about exclusivity?” I wondered, pushing on. This wasn’t a relationship, but I wasn’t thrilled about him hopping out of bed with me and into another with someone else.
