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My words are a whisper. “I… didn’t move.”
“Ignore it. It's not there.”
Sir, that's not how the laws of physics operate. There is, in fact, visible protruding hardness.
I should stay quiet, but a question hounds my mind. “Is that for me? For Rachel’s sake, I said we’re in an open fake relationship,” I whisper, “and I’m wondering if this is your body committing to the narrative or…”
You are turned on by me like I am by you.
We shouldn’t be, but I desperately want him to admit he is. My heart is hammering in anticipation, Police sirens pass by us and fade.
Huan holds himself away from me so I can’t feel his need. His gaze is hard and focused on the wall behind us, reminding me—he is a rock who doesn’t like to lose control. “This isn’t your fault,” he confirms. “Don’t worry about it.”
Don’t worry about his clearly thick cock straining out of his pants? It’s not my fault? Whose fault is it? Is it a hormone dysfunction or—my thoughts dip green—is he thinking of another woman while saving me? Or it’s adrenaline. Whatever the case,It’s not because of me.
Cool.
I should be glad because of all the reasons we can’t do anything together, but my chest pinches harder. Rejection is rejection, and this one marks me. Makes me hotter, and more like a fired cannon. Polite aversion of eyes is Pollywood Komal's response.
I'm not that Komal in London.
“Back in the bathroom, you implied I didn’t understand foreplay. Is this a demonstration of what foreplay looks like to you? Standing apart? Huffing some air?” My legs move forward. A rod presses against my thigh. Huan’s hand comes down and fists the back of my shirt.
“Stop that,” he orders.
“Just testing to see if it’s even real.”
“Don’t be a brat,” he growls.
Thatword. Something lights up inside me. I’m holding back a moan. “Otherwise?—”
“Brats get spanked.”
My brain truly short-circuits. “Is—Is that what you want to do to me? Spank me?”
Instead of answering, he pulls back quickly. The only place we’re touching now is his hand on my lower back. “I shouldn’t have said that out loud.” His tone is full of such censure, as if he’s mentally flogging himself. “Fuck. Inappropriate,” he croaks out.
“This night is a write-off,” I blurt out.
I don’t know what I mean by that, but this little voice inside me is thinking it means I may not be sticking to the earlier resolutions I made about us. Huan’s dick has mystical powers. My resolve is falling, and I want to touch it, and?—
His phone beeps. Our ride-share pulls up to the curb.
Before I can process it, Huan bundles me into the back of the car. I clutch at the seat. He’s keeping himself as far apart as possible. I look at him. He is struggling.
Something inside me has unlocked, slithering out of the shadows. I want to be bad. I want to make him lose control and have me be the reason it happens, because he’s breaking my shields without knowing it. They should not break. They keep me proper and dignified. They make it so I don’t get openly…bratty.
What a word. I love it. It somehow… fits.
It fits how I want to needle my bodyguard, and talk about his big erection in a certain voice.
And yet, the longer this ride goes on and no one is talking, I’m also thinking this isn’t the most prudent discovery. These are thoughts that shouldn’t be nurtured, especially in relation to Huan. He is mybodyguardand we’re going back home together… and he didn’t get hard for me.
God, I'm so wishy-washy in this. Even here, where no one I know can see us, I can't properly break my obedience conditioning.
I should fix this,a worried voice inside me is saying. Ease the obvious awkwardness. Give us a bridge to move forward on from here. How do I do it?I look at Huan’s fingers as they erratically tap against his knee. My own tremble. What if I… swerve directions completely? What if I make small talk and show him what happened didn’t faze me either?
Huan Li, I didn’t get wet for you. I got wet because of something completely unrelated.
