“Your friend could have gotten you in trouble,” he chastises.
“Everybody breaks rules,” I say defensively.
His expression goes dark. “You ever get fucked behind the school?”
He nudges Purge out of the way and lifts me. I’m caught off guard, so my legs wrap around his waist and I lose hold of my coat while I grab his shoulders. Thankfully my coat is situated on my shoulders enough that it doesn’t fall.
This is going to make it very hard not to tell them my fantasies. In fact, this is my new fantasy. Our age difference doesn’t seem to be a problem. I’m not sure if this is spiraling toward a really good point or a bad one.
I’m so lost in his expression that I don’t even realize he’s walked me toward the brick wall of the school until he backs me into it.
“So have you?” He rolls his hips into me. I’m pretty sure he’s sporting a major erection.
I have to play back what he asked me…about having sex behind the school. That’s a definite no, so that’s easy to answer.
“I haven’t.”
“Do you want to?”
“I... Maybe?” If he means right now, that’s going to be a no, as much as I’d like to say yes, I don’t think we should do this while half the town is inside the school.
Tank sidles up to us, his breath hot on my ear, “Come on, Tiny. Fess up. Tell us your wildest dreams. Was there a guy who didn’t live up to your standards? Was there something you wanted to do that your boyfriend wasn’t willing to try?”
That’s a convoluted answer.
Purge closes in from the other side. I don’t know what to say, so I settle for vague statements.
“I haven’t been very naughty. My boyfriend made me think that what I want is bad.” I can’t believe I said that but it’s out there, and I swear all three of their bodies go hard.
“How bad?” Tank reframes ‘bad’ to flip the script.
“I don’t know. Just maybe role-play instead of lying in a bed. Is that a thing?”
Purge nudges Winger to turn so that I’m no longer against the wall, and Purge is behind me. He reaches around and takes my hands from Winger’s shoulders, lowering them behind my back. He’s close enough, he presses his body into me so that my coat doesn’t fall off, as one of his hands grips my wrists. It’s gentle, but I know that he’s in control.
His other hand pulls my hair behind my ear and he leans down. “Bad enough to need a safe word?”
My sex is so knotted and tingly, my legs grip Winger’s waist. I wonder if they can tell that my entire world is going a little bit swoony. It will be easier to have this conversation now than when I’m sober because I am certain I can’t talk about safe words without tequila.
I blurt, “Bonbon.”
Winger says, “What?”
Tank nods my direction. “That’s her safe word, fucker.” Then Tank adds, “All right, bonbon. Now, what kind of bad do you want to be?”
The fact that he accepted my safe words so openly, there’s no discussion, there’s no worry, no nothing, I run with it. “I want to be chased.”
“Chaste?” Winger asks.
If I properly made out the subtlety of his pronunciation, it was chaste as in not sexy, as opposed to chased as in I want to be caught.
Before I can clarify, Purge says, “You need a fucking hearing aid, old man? This is chased as in she’s my prey and I’m going to stalk her.”
It sounds sonot rightwhen stated that way, and yet a hundred percent right, because that is what I want with every non-vanilla bone in my body.
“I read it in a romance novel.”
“You never tried it?” Purge asks.