12. Jake
JAKE
A man should never ask How was it? after sex if he doesn’t know the answer. If you can’t tell whether your partner liked it, then you’re not going to get the answer you want.
You’ll get a hem and a haw.
A lie.
A smile that covers up her lack of orgasm.
The only reason a man might ask a woman How was it? would be to give her a chance to purr in the afterglow.
After we cleaned up and disposed of the condom, I scooped Kate into my arms.
“Why are you carrying me?” Her question was genuine, but she laughed as I crossed to the bed.
“Because it’s fun.” I dropped her on the mattress, eliciting a sarcastic“ Thanks .” But her expression said she was in a playful mood.
Like me.
Good sex always puts me in a better mood.
Great sex, and that was what we’d just had, was a happiness elixir. I was a king right now, riding the best kind of high.
I flopped down next to her, my body still craving nearness to the woman I wanted. Shifting to my side, I ran my fingers along her cheek and asked the question, because I couldn’t wait to hear how she answered. “So, how was it?”
When she met my gaze, her eyes were soft and pretty, a hint of vulnerability in them. Or perhaps it was openness. Whatever it was, I liked it, especially as she asked gently, “You don’t know?”
I stroked her arm, savoring the feel of her warm skin. “I want to hear it from you.”
Her eyebrows climbed. “You do?”
“Why so doubtful?”
“It doesn’t seem like you to conduct a postmortem on what was obviously great sex.”
Ah, that description warmed the cockles of my heart. And other cockles. “But it’s exactly like me, and here’s why—I like fucking you. I intend to fuck you again, and I want to make you scream in pleasure every single time. So the more you tell me, the better it gets. Is that good enough for you?”
She smiled like the Mona Lisa. “All you had to do was say that.”
“Does that surprise you? That I want to know what feels good to you?”
She shrugged. “A little, to tell the truth.”
“Why is that surprising?” Then it hit me—the same reason most women weren’t used to this conversation. My jaw clenched. “Let me guess. Guys you’ve dated didn’t ask or care how to make sex better for you? Or if there was anything else you wanted to try?”
She tapped her nose. “Bingo.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Sure, some asked how I liked the steak. Was it cooked the way I wanted? But no one asked if I wanted chicken. Or pork. Or the vegan patty, perhaps, with sriracha sauce.”
I laughed at her outrageous metaphors. “Or sautéed tofu?”
“Exactly. Didn’t they know I wanted bacon-wrapped gizzards one night and garden burgers the next?” She laughed, then her humor tapered off. “But seriously, that was exactly how it went. No one asked. No one wanted to know, I suppose.”
Shoving a hand through my hair, I huffed, then tried to let go of my frustration. I would never understand why jerks appealed to women. “Enlighten me. Tell me what draws you to the breed of man known as ‘jackass.’”
She pushed my bare chest. “I didn’t say I liked that breed. That’s not my thing. I don’t go for cocky assholes. But news flash—most men don’t know how to make sex better for a woman. Because most guys don’t actually want to try new things.”
I propped my head up higher, liking this direction and curious about what she might share. “So, this was new to you?” I waved toward the living room. “What we did?”
She inhaled like she was drawing strength, then nodded. “Yes, role-playing like this is new to me.”
The warmth that spread through me was different than lust, stronger. Kate had let me in on something private and personal, and my heart sat up and took notice. “But you’ve wanted to? And were never with someone who did too?”
“Exactly. I’ve never met someone I wanted to explore those aspects of my sexuality with.
I think I always knew I wanted more than vanilla sex, more than reverse cowgirl on anniversaries, but I didn’t know exactly what I did want either.
I didn’t know if my interests were in role-playing or voyeurism or just trying some new positions and having sex on the table or something. ”
“How did you figure it out? What you craved after dark?”
She took a beat, glancing around the suite, which felt like a private cocoon now.
“It took a while. In college, sex was usually just about the freedom and novelty of being able to have it in your dorm room instead of sneaking around. Then after college, I was so focused on business that all that took a back seat. Once I started dating more seriously, I didn’t quite realize what I was missing, either, because I was always drawn to the really romantic guys. ”
I cocked my head. “That’s surprising. You don’t seem like the type who likes to be wined and dined.”
“I like those things,” she said softly, like she was letting me in on another secret.
I held up my hand to halt her right there. “Whoa. Stop the presses. Kate Williams likes to be romanced?”
She rolled her eyes. “And you wondered why I didn’t want to say anything.”
I ceased the teasing, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It just doesn’t seem like you, that’s all. You come across as so tough. Take no prisoners. Like you don’t need flowers or dinners at Michelin two-star restaurants.”
Her eyes lit up. “I love Momofuku.”
“So that does get you excited,” I said, teasing her more gently. Also, I could relate—that was a damn fine eatery, the best in this city, and a classic date place. “So, secret romance-lover, why do you pretend you’re not into romance?”
She sighed heavily. “Because of my ex. He was a full-on romantic, and I was kind of swept up in that. A lot swept up in that, actually. But then he opened credit cards in my name, took off, and dumped all his debt on me. Fabulous, isn’t it?”
I sat up straight, spurred on by surprise and outrage. “Are you kidding me?”
She shook her head, her expression strong but resigned. “I wish.”
I snarled. “That’s terrible.”
“I agree, but it is what it is. I’ve been working my butt off to repair my credit, and I’m almost there. But the whole thing made me wary of relationships and romance.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that would have been,” I said sympathetically, lying down again and running my fingers along her arm.
Like a book I’d opened, the pages of Kate were coming into focus, and I understood the root of her reluctance.
“You said you had a vague idea that you might want to spice things up—when did you realize it for certain? With your douchey ex?” I braced myself, clasped my hands, and muttered a prayer.
“Please say no, please say no, please say no.”
I was joshing with her, but spoke the truth. I hoped to hell that jackass didn’t get to see this side of her.
“No. Not with him.”
I exhaled, relieved. “Good.”
“It is good. And honestly, that wasn’t our vibe.
It wasn’t like him to ask what turned me on, what I wanted from him.
He assumed it was flowers and candles, and while I do appreciate those, don’t get me wrong, I began to realize from the books I was reading, from the fantasies I was having, that I wanted something else.
” She ran her fingers down my chest, and for a second, maybe more, it felt like she was subtly saying I was that something else she wanted. And I liked being that something else.
“Did you ever tell him?” I asked, tensing, hoping again she’d say no.
She shook her head, then pursed her lips.
“No. But I’d intended to. I trusted him, so I’d been planning to let him in and share some of my fantasies with him.
” She took a breath, playing with the hair on my chest. Once she steadied herself, she met my gaze.
“But I’m glad I kept those to myself. I’m glad I never shared my fantasies with him.
I feel like I kept a more important piece of myself than the money I’ve had to pay.
Money can be replaced. Fantasies—you don’t want those corrupted. ”
I lay back down next to her, absorbing what she’d just said. “Fantasies are a gift. Letting someone in, sharing with them—that takes an enormous amount of trust. I can understand why you’re glad you didn’t give those up to someone who would never understand how precious they are.”
A smile tugged at her lips. It was so damn endearing, the way the smile seemed to own her. “They are precious. They’re part of what makes you tick,” she said.
Stroking her hip, I pressed on. “Why did you tell me?”
Her grin widened. “You sort of guessed them, Jake.”
My brow furrowed. “Is that the only reason you told me? Because I took a good guess?”
She swallowed, her expression shifting to a serious one. “No, that’s not the only reason why I told you.” The way she said it, quiet and from her heart, seemed like a prelude to a confession.
“Then why?”
Her gaze drifted away, and she stared at the ceiling, like she was lost in thought. Finally, her focus returned to me. “Because I could tell you didn’t want to trick me. Because you’ve been up-front about your interest.”
I arched a skeptical brow. “I didn’t make a move on you until you gave me the green light.”
She chuckled like I’d made a ridiculous claim.
“Hey,” I protested. “C’mon. I was a gentleman.”
Another laugh from her, then she collected herself. “That’s true, but you’ve been pretty flirty in our texts—like, for the last few months. And not just in texts. In person too.”
“Damn. I thought I’d been a good boy, waiting for clues.”
She tap-danced her fingers up my chest. “Maybe you were, but I had a hunch which way your detective work was headed.”
I scoffed at myself. “Guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.
” Then I shrugged because it had all worked out in the end.
She was here, nearly naked, and just a few minutes ago, she’d been screaming my name.
“But since the cat’s out of the bag, let me just say—I’ve wanted to get you naked for a while now. ”