Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
I took a page out of my mom’s book, who is the master of burying her head in the sand, and I pretended that Porter hadn’t just seen me in the most compromising of situations. I showered, styled my hair into a high chignon, and applied flawless makeup that made my blue eyes pop, and my lips look pillowy soft.
The Chanel dress I wore brushed the floor, the square line and nipped waist flattering my figure. The back dipped so low, I didn’t bother with underwear. The diamond drop earrings my grandparents have given me for my 16th birthday adorned each ear, and the strappy black heels caressing my toes were the highest I owned.
Porter was in the kitchen. I could hear him, and the last thing I wanted to do was face him. Did he still want to come to the gala or did he have his bags packed? I couldn’t blame him if he was done with this charade. This was supposed to be his safe haven, but so far, it had been nothing but a whole lot of drama and angst.
Time to face the music.
Walking into the living room, I focused on the black Chanel clutch, making sure I had everything I needed. The truth was, I needed a few more seconds before I had to make eye contact .
I lifted my head and froze. Porter took my breath away. Hand in one pocket, he looked fabulous in his bespoke tux. Mouthwateringly hot. I wasn’t usually at a loss for words, but my mind went blank.
“You look beautiful.”
I shivered as his eyes took me in. “You look beautiful, too….in a very manly, masculine sort of way.”
A long, wavering silence hovered between us. His jaw was tight as he stared back at my face. On edge. Maybe I should say something. About before. I wanted to, I mean, I really wanted to, but the words stuck in my throat, and I was barely getting air into my lungs as it was.
My phone buzzed.
“The car’s here.” I turned in relief.
We didn’t speak as we made our way down to the car. The driver held the door open for me. I took a deep breath as Porter made his way to the other side. I really needed to break the ice. This tension between us was practically vibrating the air. No pun intended.
The vehicle moved.
Porter spoke from beside me. “I apologize for coming into your room unannounced.”
Coming.
He didn’t mean it like that, but good God, that word would never be the same.
Too embarrassed to look at him, I focused out the window. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t intentionally mean to…uh….”
“Show me the grand finale?”
The grand finale, is that what he called it when I orgasmed in front of him?
Yeah. That.
“Yes.”
“That’s what made it so damn hot.”
My head whipped around, noting that the heat had returned to his eyes. “I’d have thought that was a bit high on the kink factor for you. ”
Grey eyes held mine. “It turned me on, but as far as my kink meter goes, it didn’t even register.”
Oh, wow.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re kinky?”
“For some women, I’m out of their comfort zone.”
“Now you have my attention.”
It was his turn to look out the window. “I’m not for everyone.”
“You’d be hard-pressed to find one woman who agrees with that statement.”
He met my eyes again. “Felicia and I weren’t compatible.”
The idea was ludicrous. They were both so beautiful in their own right.
I bit my lip. “How could you two not be compatible?”
“She preferred things a bit… tamer.”
I worked to keep my mouth from dropping. Felicia looked like her calling in life was to have wild sex. How could she possibly be tamer than him? Porter was the all-American guy, with his healthy, athletic glow and blue jeans and tees. He drove a pickup truck for crying out loud! He looked like he invented the missionary position. I was supposed to believe he was the kinky one?
“Exactly how kinky are you?”
“The women I’ve met prefer to be in control in all aspects of their lives. And most of them have trouble relinquishing that control in bed.”
I worked to keep my breath even. “And you?”
His pause killed me. “I get off being completely in control when I have sex.”
My stomach whooshed like I was racing down a roller coaster. I had a vision of him holding my arms above my head. Perhaps tying them to the bedpost. Doing every dirty thing he wanted to my body while I lay there, restrained, only able to take.
Heat traveled over my body. This conversation was turning me on. I was clenching my thighs together, and I had to work to relax them. My throat dried as I spoke. “So, do you have some sort of red room, like Fifty Shades of Grey ?”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “I don’t need toys or for my partner to call me ‘sir’. I like to be in charge.”
Something hot and electric crackled between us. I tried to deny it, but I couldn’t ignore the way I worked to breathe like a normal person. “And that’s a problem?”
His eyes darkened. “For some.”
If I was an addict, this conversation was my drug of choice. I couldn’t get enough. “What else?”
He weighed me. Measured me. “I like a good dose of dirty talk.”
Oh, my. Did they teach Navy SEALs to read minds? This was my fantasy. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Most women aren’t really into that.”
I wanted to raise my hand and shout, “Pick me!” Instead, I cleared my throat and said, “They don’t know what they’re missing.”
The moment was broken when the car halted, and the driver rounded the car to open my door.
We had arrived.
My entire body trembled as I stepped out of the car. It should have been from nerves, from my fear of fucking this up for Dad. But it wasn’t. It was Porter.
Always Porter.