“No sex.”
Mr. Cool Cowboy coughed, set his glass down. “Excuse me?”
She grinned, pleased that he looked so distressed. Maybe she still had some power in this dynamic after all. “Kidding. I’m so new to this, I’m still not sure what my hard limits could be. I didn’t add anything to yours.”
He didn’t look at all amused by her little joke. He pulled his napkin from his lap and set it next to his plate. “Charli, I’m starting to wonder if we’re making a big mistake here.”
She paused, her fork hovering over her plate. “Wait, what? Come on, I was only messing with you. Don’t be so uptight.”
“This is not me being uptight. This is you trying to snatch back some control of the situation.” He pushed his plate aside and set his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “Tell me why you’re doing this.”
She set her fork down and shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under his unyielding gaze. Had he answered when she’d asked him the same question? She couldn’t remember what his response had been if he had. “You know why. I need to learn some things. Be more refined, as you put it.”
His frown deepened. “You could learn that in one of those manners classes people give for debutantes. Why are you agreeing to give yourself to me?”
She fiddled with the edges of the napkin in her lap, wracking her brain for an answer. Why was she doing this? Yes, she wanted to learn to be more feminine. But he was right; she didn’t need to be someone’s submissive to do that. Was it simply because she was attracted to him and knew this was the only way he had relationships?
No, she may have not had a lover in a while, but she wasn’t desperate. She’d long ago learned how to take care of her own sexual needs. She was better at it than any guy had ever been. Well, until the other day in the kitchen. She’d never get that kind of orgasm on a solo tour. But still…
Why this?
Grant reached out and put a knuckle beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Charli, I need your honesty here. I don’t want to take this any further until I know where you are with this.”
She nodded, attempted a small smile, failed. Honesty, huh? Fine. What did she have to lose at this point. “I’ve had three relationships in my life. The first in high school with a cornerback who was happy to relieve me of my virginity, but not so keen on telling his friends he was sleeping with the team’s ‘chick kicker’ instead of a cheerleader. Another early in college with the guy who is now my boss.”
Grant frowned. “Your boss?”
“Yes, Trey barely counts because it was more a friends-with-benefits deal. And the benefit really wasn’t that grand. I ended it a few months after it started. The last one was with a guy I met at the gym. It was…fine. He ended it to go back to his ex-wife.” She blew out a breath, her dating history even more depressing when said aloud. But if they were going for honesty, she was going to give him all of it. “The number of times I’ve actually been able to enjoy sex with anyone? Maybe four.”Author: Roni Loren
Grant’s brow wrinkled. “Meaning you only liked it four times? Or you only came four times?”
“Both. My mind doesn’t stop racing. I get distracted at the littlest thing. The room’s too cold. His cologne is too strong. Why is he making that face? Does he seriously think that is going to work? Am I doing this right? Does he realize having SportsCenter on in the background is only going to derail me?”
Grant’s dimple appeared.
“Stop, I’m serious. It’s a problem,” she protested, unable to fight her own smile, feeling some weird relief at saying all of it out loud. “I have issues. Clearly.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He leaned closer, his voice like a coaxing caress. “Tell me. When you touch yourself, can you come?”
She glanced over at the other tables, praying no one was listening to the conversation. How could this man turn her palms sweaty and her skin hot in one quick second? Never in her life had anyone asked her about something so personal. “Uh, sometimes. If I can stay focused on…you know, whatever fantasy I’m conjuring up.”
“Then maybe it was the guys who had the issue, not you,” he said simply. “You didn’t seem to have a problem focusing the other day.”
“Your humility is truly inspiring,” she said with mock reverence.
He shrugged as if to say—take it or leave it. “Why do you think it was easier for you to enjoy it with me?”
“I don’t know. I felt…” Overtaken. Desired. Special. All things that seemed to be running themes in those private fantasies she weaved late at night. She met his eyes. “I felt like I was able to be someone else. To take a break from everything I’ve always been, how people always see me.”
“Is who you are so bad?”
“No,” she said, turning the question over in her head. “But I’m the girl guys like to go out drinking with to watch a game. I’m the chick they tell about their wild sexual escapades. Not the one they actually want to have the escapades with. And sometimes it sucks to know that men are so comfortable around you, they don’t even see you as a girl anymore.”
“Did I mention yet that the guys you’re hanging out with must be complete morons?”
The corner of her mouth hitched up. “But that’s the thing. With you, I don’t feel like that. I feel like you see me, the woman.”
“How could I not?” His gaze stroked her face, then traced down her neck to her cleavage and back up. Everywhere his attention landed prickled with awareness.