Chapter 3 #2
Those were notions that held no appeal for me.
I’d been there, done that and had the ugly scars to prove it.
A few years after earning my MBA and landing my first job in management at a startup, I’d met the woman of my dreams—a gorgeous artist, beguiling, with haunting eyes and a wild spirit.
Joanna and I fell fast and hard into love, the all-consuming, raw and passionate kind that becomes your oxygen.
We relied on each other. We desperately needed each other, in every way.
I would have done anything for her, and so I did.
She was a struggling young sculptor aiming to return to graduate school, and since I had moved up quickly in my career, leaving the startup for a job in the hotel business, I paid for her MFA.
And boy, did I ever pay when I learned she’d been having an affair with her sculpting professor, some supposed world-renowned artist named Claude who I preferred to think of as a world-renowned prick.
Never again, I’d vowed. Never again would I put my heart on the line like that. It was far easier and a hell of a lot more fun to play the field, never giving anyone my heart again. All my friends knew about my disdain for romance. I didn’t try to hide it from anyone.
The one thing I hid well was my secret desire for Casey, but that was proving exceptionally challenging as she went on about this simmering mutual attraction she’d felt for the lingerie guy.
“And I’ve been into him for so long, so when he said he wanted to get together in a month and that he’d be thinking of me… ” she said, continuing her recap.
I closed my eyes briefly as she talked, wishing this conversation didn’t bother me so much.
There was no earthly reason why jealousy should be raging like whitewater in my blood.
I hadn’t put myself on the line for her.
I hadn’t told her I wanted to crush her lips to mine, to taste her kiss, to capture her moans and sighs in my mouth, because that was all I could give her.
No more than that. So I had to keep my desires in check and focus on our friendship.
“What’s the problem then, Case?” I asked, doing my best to be dispassionate as I looked her in the eyes.
“You like him, he likes you, you’ll make beautiful blue-eyed babies who grow up to run an empire of lingerie and sex toys.
Sounds perfect.” I flashed her a smile so she knew I meant it. At least, I tried to mean it.
“Here’s the problem,” she began, stopping to take a drink of ice water.
“I want what I want. You know, in bed. I like to be on top. I like to say what I want; I like to be direct,” she said, and my head was swimming with images now.
I’d take her on top. I’d have no problem whatsoever with her riding me, wild and free, her blond hair loose and tumbling across her shoulders, her perfect breasts bouncing.
I spread the napkin farther across my lap.
“But Scott didn’t like that enough. And I don’t think that’s what a man like Grant wants either. And maybe that’s my problem. I’m not demure. Maybe that’s why I’ve had such bad luck with men.”
“Because you like to be on top?” I furrowed my brow. “Surely not. Besides, you’re not even dating him yet. Why are you worried about what position he likes?”
She shot me a look that said you can’t be serious. “C’mon. We’re not in high school. If I date him, chances are we’ll get to the bedroom soon enough.”
The jealousy ran wild now, stampeding through my body. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Casey. Don’t you get it? If some guy doesn’t like who you are, you don’t need him.”
“Thank you,” she said, then lowered her voice more.
“But maybe it’s time to change. I enjoy being in charge, not in a Domme way or a BDSM way.
But still, I like to set the pace. Call the shots.
And evidently, that’s my problem. I’m not wild and free enough in bed or something,” she said, slapping her palm on the table in emphasis.
Her champagne glass rattled slightly, and I grabbed it before it spilled. She took it from me and downed the rest of it.
“I want more from this life, Nate. I want to have a chance with Grant, and maybe I’d like letting go. Maybe I should try giving up control. What about you? I mean, do you like your women submissive? Are you a dominant guy?”
I laughed at the fact that we were discussing this. I was fantasizing about her naked body and she wanted to know if I was dominant.
She laughed too. “See? You know I’m direct. I speak my mind. I just asked how you like to have sex!”
“You want to know if I’m dominant in bed? If I like to give orders?” I asked, and this was a much more pleasurable direction than discussing her desires for other men. Especially when she used words like wild and free.
She nodded, an eager look in her eyes. “I do want to know. Do you like to be in control? Does it turn you on for a woman to call you Sir?”
I leaned back in my chair, savoring the moment, enjoying the question. Even if we never did more than talk, this was a hell of a fun way to spend the evening together.
“Aren’t you curious today? But you think I’m just gonna give it up that easy? It’s going to take…the last bite of cake,” I said, amused at how transparently she didn’t want to relinquish it. I slid my fork beneath it, slowly, making sure to get every last bit of chocolate sauce.
“When it comes to women, you could say I’m an omnivore,” I said, my lips curving into a grin.
“What do you mean?”
I leaned closer to her. “I like everything, equal opportunity. I like a woman on top, I like to be on top, I like a woman on all fours, I like her bent over, I like her up against the wall. I’m good with reverse cowgirl, sixty-nine, inside, outside, upside-down,” I said, and her eyes widened with each suggestive term.
Oh, I was having too much fun rattling off all the things I liked, because I was being one hundred percent truthful.
Everything rocked when you were into a woman.
“Blow jobs, hand jobs, going down, spankings, ropes, scarves, handcuffs. Fingers, toys, beads, blindfolds—you name it, I’m your man. ”
I brought the last forkful of chocolatey goodness up—and over to her lips, sliding it between them as I continued.
“If it happens naked with a woman I want, I like it, but more importantly, I’m making sure she likes it even more,” I said, wiping an imaginary crumb from her lip with my thumb. It was cocky, and I knew it, but let her have an orgasmic image in her mind.
Casey stared at me wide-eyed for a moment before she swallowed. Then she grabbed at the neckline of her tank and tugged it away from her chest. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” she said with a wink, and I laughed.
Obviously it was her.
But one thing I didn’t like was the thought of her trying to change for some guy.
Because this guy didn’t deserve her if he wanted her to be someone other than herself.
I was about to tell her so when she moved even closer, and grasped my hands, sending electric sparks through me.
God, the slightest touch from her was such a turn-on.
When I was alone later in my room, I’d be thinking of all the omnivorous ways I could consume her.
I’d be picturing running through every option on the list I’d just shared.
“I have a crazy idea,” she said, her blue eyes lit up with mischief.
“Is it feeding you cake? Because we’re out.”
She shook her head, and bit her lower lip briefly. “Teach me,” she breathed out, and all the air swept out of my lungs. I froze, as shock spread through my body in a nanosecond. She couldn’t mean what I thought she meant.
“Teach you what?” I asked in a low voice as my imagination ran even more wild.
“Teach me how to let go. Teach me how to give up control.”
This was every fantasy I’d ever had coming true. And it was completely forbidden. I shoved a hand roughly through my hair and swallowed. My throat was dry. I grabbed for a glass and downed the rest of my water. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. I’m not kidding. I know it sounds crazy.
But maybe it’s not crazy. I’m the head of a damn sex toy company and I don’t know how to give up control.
Maybe because I’m surrounded by all these toys.
Because I’ve learned every detail of my own body and what I like, and how to turn up the setting higher, or adjust the vibration lower, or thrust harder, or tease more, to yield the result,” she said, laying out her pleasure-seeking clinically like it was a math problem, when to me it was a vision of sensual beauty—her on the bed, legs spread, learning the intricacies of her own body, a territory I longed to explore intimately.
“And now, when I’m with a guy, and god knows it’s been a long time since that,” she said with a scoff, “it’s so hard for me to let go of the reins I’ve been holding onto for so long.
But I want to learn. And we’re friends. I trust you completely, and it would never ruin our friendship because there would never be anything more. ”
“You want me to give you lessons in seduction—and nothing more?” I asked, making sure I wasn’t imagining this. Because I’d had these sorts of dreams before.
She straightened her spine and shook her head. “I don’t want lessons in seduction. I want lessons in submission.”
Holy shit. Now I was the one who needed a fan. It was a certified scorcher in this small little bistro. My neck was hot, my jeans were tight. My mind was operating in overdrive. I started to open my mouth to speak, but I had no idea what to say.
She brought her hand to her mouth, covering it. “Shit,” she muttered. “That was a ridiculous thing to ask. Completely presumptuous. You’re probably not even attracted to me. Forget I said it.” She backpedaled as she clearly misinterpreted my silence.
“I assure you, my attraction to you is not the issue. I think the bigger issue is—are you attracted to me?”
“You’re handsome,” she said, her lips curving in a sweet smile as she locked eyes with me. “You’re very, very handsome, Nate.”
Handsome was good. I could work with handsome. And because I didn’t want her to even consider the question about herself, I preempted her. “And for the record, Casey, you’re absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
She beamed. “Thank you. So will you do it then? Will you teach me? Or is there some bro code you won’t cross because of my brother?”
I laughed at the notion of Jack Sullivan having a problem with the two of us. That simply wasn’t Jack’s style. He didn’t issue hard and fast rules about anyone’s love life, or say things like don’t touch my sister. He wasn’t that kind of guy. “Jack’s not like that. You know that as well as I do.”
“I know. He’s not a rules guy.”
Hell, I wasn’t either. I wasn’t even that ticked off when my college buddy Bryan had hooked up with my own sister, Kat, especially since those two were happily married now. Not that marriage was on the table in this scenario with Casey. Nor was a real relationship either.
Sex was on the table.
Sex was what I wanted.
I wanted nothing more than to teach her, to take her, to please her.
But something nagged at me. A relationship that was far more important than a sexy romp would ever be—my relationship with her.
If I screwed that up, Jack would kill me.
And I’d deserve it. Welcome it even, because what kind of life would it be without her in it?
“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” I said. “As much as I like the sound of this, I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t either. That’s why this is perfect.
We’re friends, and we’re not trying to be anything more.
You’re in between women. I’m not dating Grant yet and won’t even have dinner with him for a month because he’s going out of the country.
So we have this little block of time, and no one gets hurt because we know exactly what it is.
And when we’re done with your…” she stopped and tilted her head coquettishly, “…tutoring, we go back to being just friends. You’re not the committed type, so this is perfect.
It can never be more than it is, and therefore neither one of us can get hurt.
Perfect. Business. Arrangement.” She finished by brushing one palm neatly against the other.
I shook my head, impressed with her negotiating style. Direct and downright enticing.
Still, were we really going to attempt this?
My analytical mind began to turn it around like a Rubik’s Cube.
On the one side was our friendship. On the other was my desire for her.
But if we went in with eyes wide open and expectations clearly laid out from the start, we’d be fine, right?
She was a woman who deserved a man who could commit, but she wasn’t asking me to be that man.
She was just asking me to show her how to get down on her knees.
Fuck analysis.
With that image in my mind, there was only one answer, because this was heaven—this was my chance to have my hands and tongue on the woman I’d lusted after, fantasized about and dreamed of, and still keep her in my life as a friend.
This was the chance to drive her wild with pleasure and know that the next night, next week, next month we’d still be in each other’s lives, back to normal but for some naughty, secret memories.
This was having your Molten Pleasure cake and eating it too.
“You want this, Casey? You really want this? No feelings, no strings, just lessons?”
“Yes. There’s no reason this won’t work perfectly. I mean, except for the fact that it’s one-sided. I’d be getting a lot more out of it than you would. What can I do for you?” she asked, so damn earnest and cute.
I laughed once more. “Trust me. I’ll be getting plenty out of it.”
Namely, I’d be getting her out of my system, and once I did, it would be even easier to be around her. Maybe I wouldn’t be in a state of constant forbidden arousal every time we went to the movies or dinner.
“Are you sure?”
“Casey. You’re going to need to stop questioning me,” I said in a commanding tone. “That’s your first lesson. The next one starts now.”