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Most of the questions are easy. Ranked fromDesiredtoOff-Limits,there’s a list of activities I have to decide whether or not I would like to see Clay and Eden do.
Domination—Desired.
Impact play—Desired.
Restraint—Desired.
Nudity…blank.
Humiliation…blank.
Degradation…oh, Desired. Is that bad?
Praise…Desired
Penetration, which is a somewhat impersonal way of saying sex…blank.
Oral sex…blank.
“I don’t see you ranking…” Clay teases, hovering his lips over my inner thigh.
“Okay, okay, I’m on it,” I say with a whine as I quickly circleDesiredon more than one of these items. When he sees me circle another, he presses a kiss right in the center of my panties. Warmth cascades down my spine as I bite my lip excitedly.
Just as he hooks his fingers under the elastic to pull them down, his phone rings. We both glance at the phone on the nightstand at the same time. Part of me worries it’s Eden calling to cancel on us tonight.
Instead, his mother’s name appears on the screen.
I can’t help but notice the way the light in Clay’s eyes diminishes the moment he sees it too. With a heavy sigh, he lifts himself off the bed.
“You keep working on that. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” I mumble quietly as he picks up his phone and walks out of the room.
“Hi, Mom,” he mutters from the hallway. His voice carries until he’s in the living room, and I can no longer make out what he’s saying.
Clay doesn’t talk about his family much. He mentioned that his parents both grew up wealthy and so did he. He dismissed the idea of me ever meeting either of them. And it’s obvious when he speaks about them that he’s not too keen on them either. He’s an only child and doesn’t hold a strong relationship with his parents. That much is obvious.
He raises his voice in the living room, and although I can’t tell what he’s talking about, I pause with my pen over the paper to listen.
He sounds distraught, and I don’t like the sound.
Should I ask him to open up? Or is that being too needy? If he wants to talk about them, he’ll tell me, right?
Instead of worrying about the call with his mom, I focus on the form instead. And I realize that what Clay really needs right now is honesty and openness.
Looking down at the list again, I softly mutter to myself, “Fuck it.”
Then I circle every singleDesiredleft on the page.
I’m not going to be embarrassed or ashamed. This is what I want, and I’m not sorry. I can’t explain why I want to see Eden and Clay together intimately. Maybe it’s because I’m just as attracted to her as I am to him. That’s fine…I guess. And maybe it’s a testament to the trust I have in Clay. He wouldn’t leave me for her. He cares about me. We’re happy.
So what am I so afraid of?
A moment later, he walks into the room looking flustered. He tosses his phone down on the nightstand again and walks to the bathroom. Then he shuts the door, and heneverdoes that.
Climbing off the bed, I walk across the room and gently rap on the door.
“Clay,” I softly call.
