22. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
The next morning I awoke with a smile on my face, though I should be exhausted. I’d been like a kid trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, the excitement too great to allow my mind to slow down enough to sleep.
After getting dressed, I walked to Lehra’s favorite coffee shop and ordered a vanilla bean latte for her and a black coffee for myself. Returning to our building, I retrieved the book from beneath the seat of the Bentley where I’d stashed it last night and headed upstairs.
I stopped by my apartment and gathered a few things from the kitchen before cautiously letting myself into Lehra’s place. The shower was running, so I went into the kitchen and began preparing the food.
When I heard her coming down the hallway, I called out, “There’s a scary psycho in your kitchen.”
“Oh noooo! What should I do?” she mocked, walking into the kitchen. Her hair was twisted up in a towel, and she’d put my shirt back on, the one with USMC across the front. My cock twitched at the sight.
“You should probably sit down and let the intruder serve you brunch.” She took one of the barstools, setting her phone on the bar, and I strolled over and kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, actually. Thanks for the ibuprofen and water.”
“You’re welcome. I got you a coffee. It should be cooled enough, just like you like it.” I nodded toward the cup in front of her. “And the food is almost done.”
“It smells delicious. What is it?”
The timer dinged, and I donned an oven mitt and pulled the tray from the oven. “Nothing fancy. Just Cuban crushed potatoes. I wasn’t sure how you would feel, and these are great if you have a queasy stomach.”
I sprinkled green onions across the top, plated two for each of us, and sat beside her at the kitchen bar.
Lehra groaned at the first bite. “Oh my damn, these are delicious. How do you make them?”
“Boil them, smash them, brush them with oil, add seasoning, and then broil for about six minutes. My mom used to make them when I was little, and she’d let me smash the potatoes after they were boiled. I thought it was the most fun thing ever.”
“Your mom sounds awesome. I’d love to meet her sometime.” Then her bare cheeks flushed a pretty rose color. “I mean—”
“I’d love for her to meet you,” I broke in. “After all, fair is fair since I met your mom. How is Tabby doing, by the way?”
“Busy as heck. She and my dad are actually going on a cruise next month. Dad is self-employed, so he hardly ever takes time off work.”
“My papa was the same.”
We talked about our families until we were done eating, and then I took the plates to the sink.
“Just leave those. I can do them since you cooked.”
“I got it,” I told her, starting to load the dishwasher. When I was done, I turned and leaned my butt against the counter, my hands resting beside my hips. “So, I understand you want to have Viking sex.”
Her eyes went comically wide, and she shook her head vigorously from side to side in denial. “N-no I don’t. I—” Her eyes flashed to her phone, and she let out a loud groan. “Ohhh, gawd! Stupid quiz.”
“I wasn’t trying to snoop. I saw it when I was setting your alarm.”
Lehra huffed out a breath and stood, stomping toward the living room.
“Where are you going?” I asked, pushing away from the counter.
“To drown myself in the East River,” she threw back over her shoulder.
Laughing, I caught her in two strides, looping an arm around her waist and hauling her back to the barstool. “Sit,” I ordered, both hating and loving the flush rising up her neck. “Take a look at what’s in that bag.”
After glaring at me for a long moment, she pulled the book from the bag and stared at the cover. Her eyes blinked and returned to mine, confusion lacing her expression.
“You bought me a book?”
I shook my head. ‘“No, I bought myself a book. I was trying to get some tips on how to talk to you about my… desires.”
Her gaze flicked back and forth between the book and me, trying to figure this all out. “So you…” She licked her lips and started again. “You like this?” She lifted the book and waved it at me.
“Yes, I’m into role playing.” It felt good to say that out loud and with confidence.
Her eyes narrowed. “Like, what kind of scenarios?”
Here we fucking go. I’m about to tell her something I’ve never shared with anyone.
“Did you ever see that eighties movie, Splash ?”
“The one where Daryl Hannah played…” Her eyes widened in realization. “You have a mermaid fantasy?”
“Yes, among others.”
“Like what?” she challenged.
I stroked my chin. “Well, very recently, I’ve had the urge to be a Viking.”
Lehra burst into laughter and seemed to relax into the conversation. “Have you role played before?”
“A little, but I’ve never done the mermaid thing. Hell, I’ve never even told anyone about it before you. One girlfriend was willing to play around, but she was more into scenarios you’d see in a cheesy porno, like the pizza delivery man or the pool boy.”
Her face scrunched up. “I tried to do a naughty nanny seduces the dad thing with Dwight, and he accused me of condoning cheating.”
I reached out and stroked the backs of my fingers down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Tink. I’ve gotten judged before and it sucks. Makes it hard to be open and honest about it.”
“It makes me feel guilty sometimes because a guy once told me it was disgusting that I wanted to fantasize he was someone else, but that’s not it at all,” she said, her voice rising.
My heart ached for her because I knew exactly how she was feeling. “Same. It’s more about… letting your imagination run wild, both of you falling into a role like an actor or actress. And it’s not something I need every time or anything, just enough to make things interesting.”
“Me too. And for the record, if there were still real Vikings, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t sleep with one. To be honest, I imagine they wouldn’t have very good hygiene.”
A low chuckle reverberated in my chest. “I promise to be a very hygienic Viking. I mean, if you want me to.”
Lehra’s lips twisted to the side, and she looked up at me from beneath her lashes. “You really want to be my Viking?”
More than anything, beautiful.
“I do. Would you like to be my mermaid?”
Pulling that full bottom lip between her teeth, she nodded happily. “I’ve never thought about it before, but it sounds fun.”
I was pretty sure I’d never been more excited in my life. Those were the words I’d always wanted to hear but wasn’t sure I ever would. Someone willing to step outside the box and let go of their inhibitions.
But with her, I wanted so much more than two fulfilled fantasies, so I decided to lay out the plan I formulated in the wee hours while staring at the shadow of my ceiling fan making quick revolutions above me.
“I was thinking, what if we each wrote down a few things we’d like to try, and then…”
“Fulfill each other’s weirdo fantasies?” she finished, and I laughed. Then her expression turned serious. “With no shaming?”
I suddenly felt the need to punch Dwight or anyone else who’d ever made her feel like this. Standing, I gently parted her legs and stepped in between them. It felt like home.
“Absolutely not, Tink, but if either of us doesn’t like something, it’s okay to say, ‘Hey, let’s try something besides this.’ Everything isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine.” My palms lifted and held her pretty face. “I read that entire book last night when I couldn’t fall asleep, and the number one theme was communication without judgment.”
“Okay, so I guess we need to talk about ground rules?”
Sliding my hands over her shoulders and down her arms, I linked our fingers together and lowered my voice to a whispery rasp. “Do you like rough sex, Lehra?”
The full body shudder that trembled through her gave me the answer, but she replied verbally anyway. “I do.”
Good fucking answer, baby.
I gave her hands an encouraging squeeze. “And what are your sexual limits?”
She tilted her head to the side and thought for a long moment. “I don’t want to do a threesome.”
“Yeah, not gonna happen,” I assured her. If I had my way, no one besides me would ever touch her again.
“This isn’t necessarily sexual, but I don’t like to be tickled. Actually, I hate it. Dwight used to think it was funny.”
Well, Dwight’s an asshole.
“No tickling. Got it. What else?”
“I can’t think of anything. What are your limits?”
I liked that she asked. Men should have the right to set limits just as much as women. “There’s a full list in the back of that book we can go through. Besides agreeing with your no threesomes rule, the only other one I can think of off the top of my head is no pegging.”
Her brow creased, and I wondered if that was something she was interested in. Until she asked, “What’s pegging?”
With a tiny smirk, I said, “Where you wear a strap-on and…” I lifted my brows, letting the rest linger, and Lehra’s mouth popped open.
“Well, darn. Guess I’ll strike that from my to-do list then,” she teased, her lips turning up at the edges. “This should feel uncomfortable to talk about, but it doesn’t with you.”
“I feel the same. Anything else we need to discuss?”
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip a few times. “Are we exclusive during all this?”
“Yes,” I said immediately, probably sounding like a possessive asshole but not caring. “Are you on birth control?”
“I have the implant. Are you thinking…”
“I’m thinking a Viking probably wouldn’t have a condom in his wallet,” I pointed out with a wry lift of my eyebrow, and she giggled.
“I’ve always used condoms, but I’d be fine with it if we didn’t. If that’s what you want.”
“I always have too, but I don’t want to with you,” I told her honestly. And not just because it might take us out of the moment.
Her smile was tentative and vulnerable as she nodded her assent, and I leaned in for a gentle kiss because I was pretty sure we both needed it. The softness of her lips against mine again was indescribable. I’d wanted this woman for over two years, and now I was finally going to have her.
But how long would it last?
A week later, I was seated in a salon chair with a woman named Cecily running her fingers through my thick, dark hair.
“How blond do you want it?” she asked, her reflection peering intently at mine in the mirror.
“Not like platinum. Maybe a dark blond. And can we do it just temporarily? I really only need it blond for tonight.”
“You going to a costume party or somethin’?” she asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.
“Something like that,” I mumbled.
“Hmm. Well, your hair is really dark, so I’d have to bleach it, and that’s not temporary.” One hand slid down and fingered my beard. I hadn’t shaved all week, and since my hair grew quickly, it was pretty full. “This too?”
“Yes, please.”
Cecily pursed her lips in thought. “Huh. Tell ya what I can do. I’ll make you blond today, and then tomorrow afternoon, you can come back, and I’ll color it dark again.”
“Sounds good.”
As she mixed up the foul-smelling stuff in a little bowl, I glanced down at the list on my phone of three role playing fantasies Lehra sent me earlier this week.
I smiled in anticipation of tonight.
Be ready, baby. Your Viking warrior is coming.