“It’s late,” I said, closing my computer. “Why don’t we call it a night.”
Another stretch, this time with an arched back that pressed her nipples into the shirt, hinting at the dark color beneath.
“Yeah. I think I’m going to head upstairs and watch some porn before falling asleep.”
I was so entranced by her tits that her words hit me like a sucker punch, leaving me to almost choke on my tongue. “Excuse me?”
“What?” She asked with wide, innocent eyes.
Lies. I was realizing there was very little innocence in what Rose did. “Do you talk to everyone this way? So, bluntly?” I asked, trying to corner her into admitting what she was doing—torturing me.
“Maybe not as bluntly as I do you, but I didn’t expect you to act like such a prude.”
I scoffed. “I’m not a prude because I’m surprised to hear my young ward announce that she’s going to go watch porn.” I enunciated the words to remind her as much as myself about my role in her life.
“You make it sound like I’m twelve,” she grumbled.
“You are young.”
“I’m twenty-two. Hardly a child.”
“A baby compared to my forty.”
“What?” she deadpanned. “Have you never watched porn before?”
“Of course, I have, but not since I was a teen.” I hadn’t needed to. If I wanted someone or something, all I had to do was ask, and any number of women would oblige.
“Well, you’re missing out,” she proclaimed like I’d told her I’d never had ice cream. “I’m sure porn has changed a lot since then.”
“Why?” I asked, realizing I opened myself up to a whole new level of our conversation as soon as the word passed my lips. “I’m sure you had boyfriends in college who were willing. You hardly scream virgin, so why watch porn?”
“Way to be judgey.” She pursed her lips and cocked her brow. “And yes, I did have of friends that were boys that I slept with. It’s just that none of them…” She winced, holding up her hands like she was waiting for the universe to send her the right words. “None of them did it for me.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t. You. Dare. Ask.
“How so?”
Fuck.
For the first time since she arrived, Rose hesitated.
She hadn’t hesitated either of the times she strutted past me naked.
She hadn’t hesitated with any of her sexual innuendos or veiled propositions.
She hadn’t hesitated when she threatened to dismember Charlie.
But she hesitated now.
One breath. Then two.
With her third breath, she took a slow, deep inhale, and I knew that whatever she told me would leave me clinging to my sanity by the skin of my teeth.
“Well, first off, they’d never watch porn with me. They’d always pretend they’d never heard of porn before, which was dumb because what person hasn’t at least stumbled upon it at least once in a google search gone awry. Lying about it is dumb.”
I almost laughed at her indignation that anyone would dare not openly admit they watched porn, but then she kept going, and my mouth ran dry.
“But god,” she groaned. “The foreplay as you sit with someone and watch what you want to do play out on the screen, getting ideas as your body heats up and pulls tighter and tighter until they could just turn and breathe on you to make you come.”
Sweet fucking fuck.
I swallowed, gripping the cushion of the couch so tight, I was sure I’d hear it rip any second.
“And I just…” She paused, sinking down on herself. “I just want more.”
“More what?” I didn’t even hesitate to ask. Why bother at this point. The best I could hope for was to stay rooted to the spot.
“What men are taught a woman should want,” she explained with wide eyes, like I should know what she meant.
And I did. At least I thought I did, but apparently, I was a masochist and needed to hear her say it. I wanted to watch her lips form the words even though I knew I shouldn’t ever be the one to taste them.
I slowly raised my brow and waited for her to explain.
As if responding to the silent command on a deeper level, she dropped her chin but continued to hold my stare—an almost imperceptible, unconscious sign of submission. Which called to my dominance in a way that made it hard to control. It sprang forward like a wild beast ready to play.
“More than…missionary.”
“Missionary can be very good.”
“Not the kind I’ve had.”
Still clinging to the couch, I sat taller, the animal inside wrapping around my limbs, blotting out all rational thought. “Which is?”
“Slow. Sweet. Under the covers. Lights out. Gentle. Me telling them every single fucking move to make.” She ticked them off on her hand, each one building her frustration until she rose to her knees but sat on her heels, her arms wide in supplication. “Like, come on. Man the fuck up and take control. Bite me. Pinch me. Call me a slut. Spank me. Make me cry and then lick up my tears. Fuck me with some passion. And for the love of God, just because I want that when you fuck me, doesn’t mean I want you to be a domineering dick the rest of the time.”