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“I had to close our tab first. The way you darted out of there had me nervous. You okay?” I nod and sit down. He shuts the door and walks to the other side, climbing in.
“It said one passenger,” the driver states.
“She meant two,” he answers, shutting his door.
The driver gives me a cautionary look in the rearview mirror, and I nod my agreement. He’ll get a good tip for that. We pull away from the curb, and the car is shrouded in darkness. Orange light filters in and out as we pass streetlamps.
“You’re a dick,” I mutter under my breath.
“You can call me all the names you want, talk to whoever you want, but at the end of the night, we leave together. I leave with you. You leave with me.”
He squeezes my hand, then produces a wad of napkins from his jacket pocket and turns toward me, spreading my legs. His eyes stay on mine as he sweeps between my legs. His touch is tender and affectionate. He stuffs the napkins back into his pocket and threads his fingers in mine. It feels like crossing a line. I clamp my legs together and turn away from him, gently shaking off his hand. This isn’t anything more than friends with benefits. I can’t let him do nice things like that; it confuses me.
After a few minutes, his voice cuts through the silence. “Why did you give him your number?”
I look over at him and smile. “In case we ever want to add a third.”
“Hm,” he hums, but something about it tells me we’re not done with this conversation.
After a minute, I glance back at him over my shoulder, and he’s staring out his window with a tense jaw.Shit.
As soon as we get home, he tips the driver, and we make our way inside. I kick off one shoe and hobble around, trying to pull off the other. I’m going straight into the shower. He’s behind me, still not saying a word. Something is up with him.
“In case—we—ever wanted to add a third.” I internally cringe.
“Is there a problem?” I fake a smirk. “If you’re not up for it, I’ll bet one of his friends is. No big deal.” I wave him off and head toward the stairs. It’s harsh, but I’m saying it for myself.I need to remind myself this isn’t more.
He catches up to me and wraps his arms around my stomach. “You want to know what it’s like getting fucked by two men at the same time?”
I shrug with a smile, egging him on and secretly hoping he doesn’t call my bluff.
“Okay.” He nips at my neck. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on.”
My heart stops. “What? No, that’s okay.”
“If you want to know, then let’s do it.”
I shake my head. It’s not a fantasy I need to fulfill, by any means, but it’s fun to read about in books. Besides, I don’t think I’m in a mental space that would allow me to handle more than one man, I only trust Cam.
“I was joking. Just trying to get a rise out of you.”
“You got a rise out of me, baby.”
I scoff. “Baby?”
He nods. “Tonight, you’re gonna sleep like a baby.”
“That phrase is stupid. Babies don’t sleep, they cry all night.”
“I know. Get your toy, Jordan. The one he hated most.”
29
She smiles—really fucking smiles—and it relieves some of my worry. Things were weird after she walked out of Top Shelf. It also eases my frustration. Truth is, I shouldn’t even be angry. I have no stake on Jordan. She’s not mine.
“Yes sir.”
I swallow.Fucking hell.I am really enjoying this arrangement. She stalks off, and I scrub a hand down my face, mentally reviewing the list of things she said she was curious about. I committed them to memory the second the words left her mouth. Being watched, spitting, slapping—tread lightly with this one—impact play, praise,degradation, objectification, breath play, anal, being shared.
