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Traipsing after him again, I know I’ll be staying, so why bother pretending I’m not. “What’s it called? The show you want to watch?”
“The Fall.”
“Never heard of it.”
Reed shakes his head as he swipes up his phone from the coffee table and starts pressing buttons. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, Tink. Come and get comfortable while I order the pizza.”
Reed
An hour later, I’m sitting at one end of the couch, with Brinley sitting beside me, and we’ve consumed another beer each, and the best part of a large meat-lovers pizza with extra spice, extra pepperoni, and extra cheese.
For someone so petite, I didn’t expect her to have such a healthy appetite, and that pleases me more than it should.
I like chicks who eat, and even more than that, I like chicks who aren’t embarrassed about it.
I’ve been out on dates before where the girl orders a salad at a restaurant when it’s plain as the nose on your face that she’d much prefer a big juicy steak. That shit doesn’t impress me.
I glance across at her, the flickering light from the television screen highlighting her high cheekbones and her never-ending lashes. She’s got a throw blanket pulled up over her legs, and she’s tucking into the enormous bowl of M&M’s that I just placed down on the couch between us.
We haven’t spoken much since we turned on the television, but that’s to be expected. We’re too engrossed in the show. She’s totally into it, just as much as I am. Quinn was right.
The first episode was amazing, and I was instantly hooked.
Brinley didn’t object when I clicked onnext episode,and now she’s got her knees pulled up to her chest, her feet bundled together beneath her, one hand covering her eyes as the serial killer goes to town on some poor defenseless woman who didn’t even see him coming.
“That’s the guy from those books, isn’t it?” I ask, shoving a handful of chocolate into my mouth.
It’s weird. I’ve got a woman in my apartment, and neither one of us are naked. She’s not rolling around in my bed, begging me to go easy on her. Not that I wouldn’t be happy for that to happen, if that’s what Brinley wanted too.
But not tonight.
Let’s just see how this plays out.
She doesn’t answer me, and I don’t know if she’s ignoring me or she’s just really into the show.
“You know the ones… the books they made into those movies, that got housewives all gooey between the legs.”
“That’s disgusting.” She throws a red M&M at me, and I burst out laughing. “Yes, that’s him. ButFiftywasn’t all just about the sex. There was a storline behind it too.”
“You’ve read the books?”
“Sure.” She nods, slumping back against the couch. “Hasn’t everyone? Now be quiet. We’re missing the show.”
Oh hell no. I’m not about to let this juicy little tidbit slide. This could totally work in my favor. I point the remote at the screen and press pause.
“So,” I say, twisting to look at her properly, and she groans with frustration. “The dom stuff. Did it turn you on?”
“What?” she gasps.
“That’s what it was about, wasn’t it?” I ask, pretending I don’t have a fucking clue.
Of course I know what it’s about.
That movie did wonders for women all over the planet, opening their eyes to a world of sexual pleasure they’d once never dreamed of getting involved with.My world.A world of handcuffs, and restraints. I’ve had my share of women who want me for no other reason than I’m a singer in a band, and I have a ton of money. But when those books were released, I found a whole new market of eager beavers looking to get their fanfiction rocks off.
“Those books are about a dominant and a submissive. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not wrong.”
