24. Knox
Chapter twenty-four
Knox
Rule #26: No loud activities after 9 pm.
T he minute Gemma stuffed those onion rings in her mouth, I knew she was mad at me. Or, possibly, not at me, but at the general situation. It was very Gemma to use a pungent food to keep me at bay purposefully. But she wasn't going to get away with that so easily. I probably shouldn't have found it amusing, but I couldn't help but find every aspect of her character charming. And truly, watching her needle my mother in small ways had been more than a little satisfying.
I parked the car in the covered garage that adjoined the gym at our building, and we went in through the workout area and to the side stairwell. I watched her closely, noting that she'd stopped eating onions—when had food become some kind of mood ring?—and she kept darting intrigued glances my way.
I had my hands full of fast-food bags and drinks, so I let her lead the way up the stairs to our door, and she swiped her keycard over the pad with another look my way over her shoulder. I gestured for her to go in, raising my eyebrows and letting her stew in her curiosity. It had been a while since I had used ropes on a woman, and ordinarily, I preferred them with an experienced partner whom I knew for sure enjoyed them as much as I did. Also, it kept it safe for me when I could control how much touch happened in a sexual encounter.
But with Gemma, everything was abnormal where my qualifications for sex play were concerned. For one thing, I knew she wasn't experienced in Shibari or possibly even BDSM in general. Secondly, I wanted her to touch me. I wanted it more than I wanted to press my lips to her breasts and bury myself inside of her. More than anything, I wanted her to run her hands over my skin and wrap her arms around me. And that was… new. Unusual.
If we were going to enter uncharted territory, then I needed to lay some groundwork with her. I deposited the fast-food bags on the island and handed her what was left of her soda. "Drink that," I said.
Gemma blinked at me. "I mean, I was going to, but alright."
"It's smart to be hydrated before we get into a session, but also," I said, leaning against the counter and folding my arms as I watched her take off her yellow coat. "There are other perks. Don't empty your bladder."
Her vibrant blue eyes widened. "Kinky."
I rolled my eyes. "It's not that kinky. Relax."
" What's not that kinky?" she asked, smiling and coming to stand in front of me near the island.
"You asked me to share my hobbies with the class, so let's share. Have you ever been restrained during sex?"
Gemma swallowed a gulp of soda loudly. "Um, a little."
"Handcuffs?" I guessed. Our apartment had fallen into sunset shadows, and with only one light on in the kitchen, it gave the space a cozy glow. Gemma had her hair in a sleek, twisted bun that had taken me by surprise. She'd said she was playing the part for my mother, and I wanted to pull all the pins out myself and run my fingers through her soft, rose gold locks. She'd also put on a braid knit, dark green sweater that made her eyes look like a summer ocean, and I pulled her to me like I couldn't help myself. Probably because I couldn't.
Gemma angled her face up to mine, so much shorter than me that I sometimes wondered if she got a crick in her neck looking up at me. "Yes, handcuffs," she smiled.
"Fuzzy ones?" I pressed with a crooked smile.
Her lips rolled between her teeth. "Maybe."
"Figures. A couple other limits I want to go over for future reference. We can go over more in the future, but for tonight, how do you feel about spanking?
Gemma got a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Yes, please.”
Not surprising. “Edging?”
“Never tried it,” she admitted, sipping her soda again. “But I’m good to try.”
I nodded. “Shibari is restraint, and I know you said you were okay with it, but it’s not exactly the same as handcuffs. It isn't restraint for the sake of restraint." I traced her hairline with one finger, and she leaned into me, melding our bodies together. "It's a slow process, and it's meant to connect us better. It also requires a decent amount of trust." I hooked my finger under her chin to make sure she held eye contact for this. "I need to know you trust me."
She didn't waver when she whispered, "I do."
My next words caught in my throat, and I felt like a snare drum had started a trill in my chest. I smoothed my thumb along the curve of her chin. "If you trust me, then are you ready to learn?"
She nodded once. "Like 8-year-old me- who just got told there's a bouncy house at the party."
I cracked a grin. "Oh, there will be plenty of bouncing. Finish that soda and get on the bed. I'll meet you there."
She bit her lip again, smiling, and then backed away from me, letting the shadows swallow her before heading off to the bedroom. I let out a steadying breath, trying to find my bearings. Being near Gemma like this threw off my equilibrium and tossed my thoughts around in a frenetic jumble like they were rocks in a tumbler rather than coherent, logical ideas. I had to find a certain balance between setting boundaries and informing Gemma and still keeping things light and fun. It wasn't my intention to turn this into some kind of extracurricular night class. I wanted her to love it because, hell , if she loved it, too, then the possibilities were limitless.
I didn't even want to think about it too hard. It was too good to be true. Like every other relationship in my life, I was sure to fuck it up somehow. I shook my head, pushing away from the island counter. Not now, I chastised myself. You haven't ruined anything yet. Give Gem a chance. Give it a chance.
I went to the bedroom, tugging off my sweatshirt and shirt as I went. When I got there, I found that Gemma had turned on the small side lamp next to my bed, and she sat cross-legged in the middle, slurping her soda. She waved, letting her eyes rove over my body in an exaggerated way. I huffed out a laugh and purposefully dropped my shirt and sweatshirt to the floor. "Oh, look. I've made a mess."
She glared mutinously. "We're starting this with pissing me off, are we?"
I went into the closet and flicked on the light. "I'm introducing the concept of no control," I said with a smile in my voice. "Do you think you can handle that?" She was suspiciously quiet, so after I grabbed the silver silk bag with the coiled rope inside, I poked my head out to check on her. "Gem?"
She had her brows furrowed in thought and stared off in the distance. "I've never thought about it before," she admitted.
"What? Giving up control?"
She nodded absently. "Yeah. Hasn't been an option."
I suspected that giving up some control and letting go was exactly what Gemma needed. God knew it was what I had needed after leaving home as an undergrad. I'd evolved since then, but Gemma had always struck me as someone who needed order and some predictability. It was like she herself was a whirling vortex of energy and creativity, and in order to make herself feel safe, she needed everything around her to be solid and airtight—controlled. From what she'd told me about her upbringing—the moves from house to house, the instability with her mother's moods and her parents' relationship—it made sense.
But she also needed to know that it was okay to let go. To breathe. To feel.
I gathered a few more items from a chest I kept in the corner next to my shoes and then joined her at the bed. When I dumped my armful onto the white bedspread, she cocked her head at it, sipping the last of her soda through the straw. "Is that a blindfold?"
"Mhm." I picked up the black silk blindfold and let it dangle. "Because I know you, Gemma, and you're going to overthink this entire thing if I let you see what I'm doing."
Gemma's cheeks came as close to a blush as I'd ever seen. She lowered her drink, wetting her lips and looking for once, a little nervous. "That's true. I probably would."
I joined her on the bed, kneeling so her knees were between mine. I placed my hands on her upper arms, rubbing circles with my thumbs. "Let's talk stoplights."
She frowned in confusion. "Stoplights?"
"Green means you love it," I said, taking her soda from her and putting it on the side table. "Yellow means you're feeling unsure about something, and red means stop, undo everything, and back off."
"Oh." With her soda gone, Gemma brought her torso up against mine, threading her arms around my neck and settling her ass on my lap. "Stoplights are smart." She angled her lips up to mine for a kiss. "What else?"
I pressed our lips together gently before answering. "If anything hurts, you have to be honest."
Her eyes darted between mine. "Does it usually hurt?"
"No," I replied mildly. "In fact, the opposite is meant to be true. The rope is usually wrapped around in wide bands that encourage blood flow and prevent one place from receiving too much pressure." I reached around her head to where I saw a bobby pin sticking out from her swirled chignon and plucked it out. "But there is a bit of… adjustment… sometimes."
She tilted her head to give me better access to the pins. "Which one of those rope ties are you doing? One from the book?"
I shook my head, removing another pin and watching in fascination as her thick hair sagged, begging to be released. "Simpler than those. You have to work up your tolerance to bondage."
She pouted her pretty pink lips. "But I'm an expert hussy."
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling before removing another bobby pin. That time, half her hair fell to her shoulder. "Expert anything other than Shibari practitioner doesn't cut it in this case."
"I like how you didn't contradict me," she snickered.
I plucked out another pin, and the whole swirl of strawberry blond hair fell down her back. I kissed her neck softly. "I don't care who you were. I want you as you are now." Jesus, she smelled like roses and vanilla. I ran my nose up and down the curve of her neck, savoring the feel and scent of her.
She sighed happily. "Alright. I guess I can get on board with that. I kind of have to pee, though. You sure you're not just torturing me for giving your mom the middle finger every time she turned her back?"
I chuckled, kissing up to her jaw. "If anything, I'm giving you a reward for that."
"I like rewards. I can be a good girl if I get treats."
I brought my lips to hers and kissed her softly. "You deserve every good thing on this planet, Gemma." She opened her mouth in silent surprise, and I swallowed her unspoken words, kissing her deeply. She moaned into my mouth, angling her hips against mine and pressing her body into me with feverish need. I licked her bottom lip, and then pulling away, I whispered, "Now be a good girl and take off your clothing."