I run a hand over my jaw, not liking where this is going. Here we were having a good time and she wants to get heavy.
"I get that you're uncomfortable," she says, "and I get that we were having this romantic dinner after an incredible afternoon, but when I went to Seeking Curves, I was looking for a partner, a forever match. I wasn't looking for a fling, and if you're not ready for something real, something more than just fucking by the fireplace…" She speaks slowly, and even though the words are crass, when she says them I know she's being serious. "I need more than that, Truett. I need a man who wants to be a man for himself, not just for me. I want a partner who has his own ambitions."
"I got lost last time I tried."
"I understand that," she says. "You didn't want the big city lights and all the fame and fortune that came with them, but what do you want?"
"Why do I have to want something big? Can't a small, simple life be enough? Is that not enough for you?"
She shakes her head. "No, that’s not it, not even a little. I don't need a fancy life. Heck, this house is more luxurious than anything I ever imagined for myself. You've seen my apartment. That, to me, is living large. The idea of owning my own home has never been a part of my reality. The idea of having more than one month's rent in my bank account is pure fantasy. I grew up on free and reduced school lunches. I grew up never getting new school clothes and relying on back-to-school supplies from my teachers. My mom never made me a birthday cake. But more than that, I was never sure if there was going to be electricity in our house. I'm not looking for anything fancy. I'm looking for security. And when I was with you in your room today, in your arms, that's what I felt, Truett. That's what I had. I know you're sitting here right now saying you don't have any plans or dreams for yourself, but I want to challenge your thinking. A man like you who's capable of so damn much, well, I wonder if maybe you're just a little bit scared."
"Scared?" I say. "You think I'm scared?"
She nods ever so slowly. "Yeah," she says. "I think you might be scared of trying again and failing."
I swallow, wondering how this woman I just met hit the nail on the head so damn well. I shake my head. "Damn it," I say.
"What?" she asks, not backing down. "You know it's true. You're scared of messing up, of putting yourself out there and not getting it right. You're scared of needing a soft place to land and not finding it, and being alone. But..."
"There's a but?"
She nods. Her eyes lock with mine, and fuck, this girl has my heart. Right here, right now, because there's something amazing, something incredible, about her intensity, about her relentless efforts to see my soul.
"I'll be your soft place to land, Truett, if you'll let me. So whatever your dream is, whatever your passion, whatever your crazy big ambition is, or your small pleasure, you wouldn't have to chase it by yourself. This time, you wouldn't be out in the world all on your own. This time, you'd have me."
14
Story
When he picks me up out of the chair and carries me to the fire, for a moment I have this thought that he's going to throw me out of the house. Maybe I said too much, pushed him too far. But no, he sets me down on the thick rug next to the fire that crackles, and he begins to toss the sheet aside, moving between my legs.
"Fuck," he groans, "I want you so bad."
"I didn't scare you away? I wasn't being too bossy?"
“Turns out, maybe I'm the one who needed a spanking,” he tells me. His eyes on mine, he laces our fingers together, pinning them above my head. "You had me so fucking hot, so fucking hard when you challenged me like that, when you told me what you really thought, when you didn't back down."
"Really?" I say. "I thought you might've thought I was being too much."
He shakes his head and growls. "No fucking such thing as too much. Story Cook, you're just the right amount. Fucking perfect."
I groan in pleasure as he grinds against me, his cock hard and thick in those sweats pressing against my wet pussy. I need more, all of him, all of us. One. He removes his pants quickly, thank God, and I lick my lips – eager and ready.
"You said you wanted to 69 me," he says.
I nod. "I want all of you," I said. "I want to be covered in you in ways I don't even understand. I want us to be one. Completely."