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“So, you like that sort of thing?”
She shakes her head and peers up at me. But the way she swallows hard before she speaks makes me wonder if she’s being entirely honest with me.
“Really? Why?”
“I can’t imagine being told to surrender my body and my mind to another human being, and finding that in any way pleasurable.”
“I think you’d be surprised.”
“Do you now?”
“Yeah, I mean, wouldn’t it be nice not to have to think too hard, or make decisions about stuff? You could just lay back and enjoy it, knowing there’s someone there for you who can take control, all the while making you feel fucking amazing, all the while making you forget all the problems in your life.”
Brinley stares back at me, blinking slowly.
Well, shit.
Didn’t really mean to say all that out loud.
She doesn’t need to know about my guilty pleasures. Not yet, at least. Don’t want to scare her off. For my plan to work, I’m going to have to lay a little groundwork first.
“I’m guessing, of course,” I say nonchalantly with a whimsical shrug. I toss another handful of chocolate into my mouth and start the show again. “Want another beer?”
“Yes, please. I think I need one after that.”
Chuckling under my breath, I climb off the couch, grab another two beers from the kitchen and then hand her one once I return. Sitting a little closer this time may have been accidental. Or maybe not?
The episode we’re watching finishes and Brinley makes no attempt to move. “Episode three?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
We get comfortable again, both in shock at what we’ve just watched. This series is intense, and a little scary, but it’s a mind fuck too and I have to know what happens next.
Once episode three is done, we’re both desperate to watch episode four and so we do, and in between episodes we talk about the show and make guesses about how he’s going to get caught, and if the lady detective is going to end up banging him at some point.
And despite the fact that we both remain fully clothed the entire time, I’ve never had so much non-sexual, companionable fun in a really long time.
If ever.
Brinley
Three-thirty in the morning is a horrible time to be woken up with a start.
And I don’t even know what it was that woke me.
It might have been the sound of silence, or possibly the gentle crackle of dying flames in the fireplace. It might have been the white noise from the television screen, or maybe it was none of those things.
I roll over and sit up slowly, enjoying how warm I am and how my sleepy head is in that dreamy in-between stage where you don’t know where you are, or who you’re with or…
“Oh, shit,”I whisper, because for a minute there I really didn’t know where I was, or who I was with.
But now I do.
I’m still at Reed’s apartment. And I’m lying on the couch. Reed is lying beside me, fast asleep. His head is bent back on the cushion, his feet tucked up beneath him, and he’s snoring softly in a way that makes him look both innocent and vulnerable.
Two things I know for sure he’s not.
I don’t want to be attracted to this man, but the feelings rushing through me are about nothing else. They’re all about him. He’s dark and mysterious, and yet he’s confident and has charisma that transcends time. It’s physical and emotional, and I want to get to know him better, despite all the warning signs telling me otherwise.
