Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
"If only we could tell my brother that's how we got together."
"To create a sex therapy empire," I say.
He smiles. "So, what would you tell me? To keep the mood sexy?"
"I don't know. I'm a lot better at clinical theory than dirty talk."
His smile shifts to something sexual. "Do you want to practice?"
"If you'd enjoy it," I say. "I do want this to be more… real."
"Does it make you nervous?"
I nod.
"Then I would." His eyes meet mine. "I find your blush incredibly sexy."
My cheeks flame in response.
"But it's up to you. I think that’s what I want. I want you to tell me exactly what you want to do to me."
Chapter Twelve
Ivy
Tell me exactly what you want to do to me.
It's another dodge, but I can't say I mind, exactly.
There are so many things. Too many to count. My mind whirls with possibilities.
My eyes move around the room, taking it in like it’s new again. The clean white walls. The framed art in bold colors. The warmth and life in the space. But, somehow, it has a certain emptiness, the way my apartment does.
He doesn't fully inhabit it. Not yet anyway.
Then my eyes meet his, and I forget where we are. I forget everything but how much I want to mount him. "Can it be anything?" I ask.
"I don't know." A teasing tone drops into his voice. "Try me." He moves to the couch, takes a seat, looks up at me with all that interest.
He doesn't spread his legs so wide he takes up the whole couch. Only enough to invite my attention.
Only enough to send my thoughts racing to his cock.
He's turning the question around, it's true. But it's fair too. He only offered to drop a little pretense at a time. This isn't two normal people having normal sex.
It can never be that.
But it can be more intimate and more honest than hooker and john.
We can stand on more even ground than therapist and client.
What if I could do anything to him? What would I do?
Even with all my training, it's hard to shift into the mindset of sexual subject. Even with all my experience, I still default to object.
To the things I want him to do to me.
There are things I want to try. Role-plays. Cameras. Mirrors. But I can’t tell him any of that. I don’t care if he’s a professional. I barely know him.
I start with the easy stuff. "I want to take off your shirt."
"Then?" he asks.
"It's hard to imagine what I want then with that shirt in the way." My voice takes on a flirty tone. One I don't expect. Sure, it's not the smoothest dirty talk, but it's something.
"Sounds like a dire problem."
"It's terrible." I take a step towards him.
He looks me in the eyes, daring me to continue. "What are you going to do about that?"
Right. I'm in control. It's a lot. Intimidating, even in this small way.
But there's no doubt in my mind. I know I want to see him without his clothes. I know I want to touch him. I know I want to feel my body against his body.
Maybe there's not some sophisticated scene, but it's plenty.
I close the space between us.
I slide onto the couch, next to him, but that's not enough. I swing my legs over his and sit, so I'm straddling him.
Slowly, I pull his shirt over his head.
I drop the fabric behind me.
"Better?" he asks.
"Much." I settle into the position. Let my body soak in the feeling of his body. His flesh between my legs. His torso six inches from mine. His breath on my collarbones.
"What else, dolce?" There's something in his tone. A falseness.
"Do you use that line with everyone?" I ask.
"With some," he says.
"I don't like it." The harshness in my voice surprises me. I rarely stand up for myself this aggressively. But it's true. I may be here because of our deal, but I don't want to be reminded of it.
"What would you like?" He looks up at me. "I know." His voice shifts to a perfect Spanish accent. "Mi reigna."
I remember that much. "Your queen? Really?"
"It suits you, no?"
I like the thought of it, I admit.
"Have you used it before?"
He shakes his head. "I can use the English, if you prefer."
"No. It's okay, if it comes naturally…"
"First thing that came to mind." He taps his head. "Now… mi reigna, what next?"
I do like it. That I'm not a princess in his eyes. I'm not a girl. I'm a woman, a ruler, someone powerful yet feminine. He really is good at this.
Way too good at this.
"I want to touch you." I bring my hand to the space just above his chest, so I'm not making contact. Not yet. "Slowly. So I can feel the warmth of your skin. And the hardness of your muscles."