19. I Won’t Beg Unless We’re in Bed
19
I WON’T BEG UNLESS WE’RE IN BED
Rafe
After the wicked magic Gunnar performed on my cock last night, he not only deserves a return favor, it will be my pleasure to give him one.
But I haven’t decided how I plan to make him moan for me. How to drive him wild. These decisions take time, and are best made after a drink and a meal.
I reach for the paper menu on the table, then hand it to him. “First things first. I promised I’d feed you.”
“You sure did. So, what’s good here?” he asks, perusing the offerings. “And dude, don’t tell me everything is good , the way people do when they’re obsessed with a place.”
This man does love to knock me down a peg. “I believe I mentioned the steak is fantastic. But so is the sashimi and the salmon. You can’t go wrong.”
He sets the menu down with a decisive snap. “They all have your seal of approval?”
“My personal guarantee,” I say.
“All right, babes. Don’t lead me astray,” he says.
“I would never,” I say, meeting his eyes.
“Good,” he says, vulnerable for a moment, and I know he gets it.
My guard relaxes a bit, and I smile slightly as I enjoy the view of him. His broad frame, his strong jaw, his deep blue eyes. The way he’s not afraid to look at me, to challenge me, to stand his ground with me.
But before I get too caught up in everything Gunnar, I remind myself that I don’t do relationships. That they only lead to pain.
The server appears with our drinks and asks for our dinner orders. I choose the salmon, and Gunnar opts for the steak, after all.
When we’re alone again, I reach for my scotch, and he takes his bourbon, tipping his tumbler toward mine. “To inclusive clubs and honesty.”
I’ll drink to that. “To fuckable lips and very determined men,” I add.
He growls under his breath, a feral sound. “Are you determined to keep me on edge all night?”
I lean back in the booth, savoring his reaction. “Are you saying I’m edging you with my words?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he says, then knocks back some of his liquor.
A crackle of electricity runs through me. “Perhaps I’ll keep edging you,” I say.
“Damn you, Rafe,” he mutters.
I affect a smile. “Did you mean thank you, Rafe ?”
“I guess we’ll see if I thank you later,” he answers, then takes another swallow of his drink.
I chuckle. We’ve moved past the uncertainty of last night, and I want to reward his faith in me—especially when he hardly knows me and I hardly know him. If we keep up this affair, I’d like to learn more. Not enough to become close. Just enough to suit me.
I lift my scotch, swirl it, then ask, “How does it feel to hit a home run?”
Gunnar smiles, a boyish sort of grin. “There’s nothing better in the whole world.”
“Describe it for me. How does it feel when you’re on the diamond, running the bases?”
He lights up, eyes gleaming, lips curving. “It feels electric. I feel extra alive, like everything in me is vibrating. It’s an absolute thrill.”
“Like a roller coaster?” I ask, leaning closer. In the dining booth, we’re in our own world.
“Kind of. You like roller coasters, Rafe?”
“The more daring the better,” I say.
“I’ll put that in my Rafe file too,” he says, tapping his temple again.
“It’s getting bigger and bigger tonight, that file,” I say.
“That’s not the only thing getting bigger.”
I laugh. I do that a lot with Gunnar, in a way I haven’t in a long time.
He sets down his glass and sighs contentedly.
“Let me ask you a question, Rafe. How do you feel when you design a great pair of underwear?”
That’s easy. “Like I’m helping people make love, not war.”
He beams. “I like that. You’re bringing joy to the world.”
“Exactly. Joy in the bedroom. Or the living room,” I add playfully.
“Or the limo. Or the owner’s suite,” he offers.
Ah, that sounds like a blatant hint. He’d like me to take care of his needs in the limo. But I’m still entertaining all my options.
“Or an elevator. Or a shower,” I say. “I could go on and on.”
“Maybe I want you to go on and on,” he counters.
“I know you do. And that’s another reason I love what I do. I want people to be turned on. If my designs excite them, I’ve done the world a service.”
“More sex is a good thing.” He waggles a brow. “Or so I’m told.”
I consider that segue as the server brings our food and we tuck in. “So, you haven’t been with a man before,” I say, returning to the discussion last night. “But what is it that you want ?”
His brow knits. “Like, do I have a list of sex positions I want to try? Things I want to do?”
“Yes, Gunnar. Do you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just sets down his fork and picks up his glass of bourbon. After a pensive pause, he says, “I don’t have a written list. But I know this much.” He’s more intense than I’ve ever seen him. “I want to fuck. I want to get you naked. I want to learn what turns you on. I want to put my mouth all over your body—your chest, your abs, your cock. I want to kiss you everywhere.” It’s the sexiest soliloquy ever. Then he punctuates it by repeating, “ Everywhere . Do you know what I mean?”
I shudder as I imagine all the places where his lips would travel. Places I don’t usually let lovers go.
“And I want you, Rafe, to fuck me,” Gunnar adds. “I want you to fuck me hard. I want you to nail me and make me shout your name.”
Pleasure twists wildly inside me, wrapped up in lust. My rock-hard cock thumps against the zipper of my trousers.
I want to have Gunnar tonight—to take him back to my place, tug down his jeans, and fuck him against the wall. But I won’t. And I can’t. What I imagine happening between the two of us is going to require time.
And just like that, I know precisely what I want.
I want to seduce Gunnar completely.
But does he want to be seduced or does he want to learn? There’s an important distinction. “I want all that,” I tell him, “and you know it.”
“Do I?” he tosses back.
“You fucking better.” I don’t mince words. “But just to be clear, do you want me to be your teacher? Are you eager to know how to please a man?”
He seems thrown off by the question. “You offering lessons, sweetheart?” he asks without sarcasm.
I shake my head, not in the mood for games. “I want to know if there’s someone you want to impress. Occasionally, when one person goes to another for experience in bed it’s because they’ve set their sights on someone else.” My tone has chilled—we’re dancing uncomfortably close to Lucas and the things he said and did.
“No. Why would you suggest that?” Gunnar sounds offended.
“It’s happened,” I say softly, leaving it at that.
Gunnar leaves it, too, but his gaze has turned dead serious. “I wouldn’t do that. You need to know that.”
“Good. I hope not,” I say, more vulnerable than I like.
He turns his body toward me, like he’s shielding us from the rest of the dining room. “Know this. I’m not trying to woo someone or win someone over. I’m not asking you for instruction. I’m not actually asking you for anything.”
I blink, suddenly bloody fucking lost. “You’re not?”
“No. You assumed I was,” he points out, reaching for his fork and returning to his meal. “I didn’t ask for lessons in seduction. And I’m not going to beg for sex unless we’re in bed.” He takes a bite of his steak, chews, then finishes. “You want to know what I want, Rafe?”
Desperately. “I’m dying to know.”
His eyes glimmer with heat and want. “I want to feel good. I want to feel good with you. I want to feel all the things I’ve watched in videos. That’s what I want. And I want it with you. Just you.”
He’s laid it all on the line, spelling out his desires in a way I can’t miss. It’s so insanely sexy, it’s a struggle not to pounce on him.
I want to give this man everything he craves in bed, and I absolutely can.
I inch closer to him and set a hand on his thigh. “I can give you all of that, but I think there’s something you left out.”
“What’s that?” he asks, intrigued.
I raise my fork and take my sweet time savoring my salmon, then I meet his dirty gaze. “You want me to get you off in public.”
He blinks but says nothing. I’ve rendered the mouthy man speechless. Excellent.
“You have an exhibitionist kink, Gunnar,” I add.
He swallows roughly. Looks at me with heat in his eyes. “Do I?” His voice is heady, raspy.
“You do.” I set down my fork, push the plate away, and wipe my hands on my napkin. “And I’ll take care of it right now.”