Kit (Chicago Blaze 8)

“Okay.”

She takes a deep breath and looks at her hands. “I really like you. I honestly thought I’d never find a man I liked this much who felt the same way about me.”

My pulse pounds as it hits me what conversation we’re about to have. “You’re breaking up with me.”

“No,” she says quickly, looking up to meet my eyes. “No, I’m not. I really like you and I want us to keep seeing each other.”

“But?”

“But…I feel like we need to talk more about…sex.”

“Sex?” I arch my brows, surprised that’s what she’s concerned about. And then it hits me. “You weren’t comfortable with the ass stuff the other night. Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked instead of just doing it.”

Molly draws her brows together and shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?”

After a pause, she says, “Every time I try to touch you below your chest, you stop me.”

Fuck. The conversation I tried so hard to avoid is hitting me square in the jaw. I’m immediately agitated.

“I told you, I’m into being in control. You’ve seemed to be into it, too.”

“I am. I mean, I like it. But I have this gut feeling that something’s off. I feel like you’re either easing me into something hardcore or holding something back.”

I scoff. “I’m not into anything hardcore. You already asked me that and I already told you.”

“I know, but…you’re not telling me something.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Seemed pretty right when you came so hard your legs shook the other night.”

“And you wanted nothing,” she says, sounding skeptical. “All you want is to touch me and please me and only get off when you’re fucking me, which isn’t every time.”

I stand up and walk over to the window, looking out at the skyline. “Why the fuck do you doubt everything? You’re this cynical reporter who always assumes there’s more to the story and you just dig and dig and never take anything at face value.”

“That’s not fair. I don’t always assume and never believe anything.”

I turn to face her. “With me you do. That’s what you did when you were interviewing me and it’s exactly what you’re doing now. Why would I lie to you about what I like in bed?”

Molly stands up and narrows her eyes at me. “Why does it only matter what you like? Don’t I get a say?”

Taking a few steps toward her, I feel myself losing my cool. “I told you that you can decide everything else. But this, this one thing, is important to me. Why would you want us doing stuff that I don’t like?”

“I don’t want that, but I also don’t want to feel like a sex doll.” She crosses her arms.

“Are you fucking serious? You’re saying I make you feel like a sex doll?”

If there was anything breakable within my reach, I’d grab it and destroy it right now. I don’t get pissed off very often, but when I do, I just want to break shit.

“Do you have an STD you don’t want to expose me to?” Molly asks.

I put my hands on my head, too floored to even respond. “What the fuck are you even asking me? We fucked. You think I’d do that if I had an STD?”

“You wore a condom. Maybe you don’t want me to give you oral sex because of an STD, or…I don’t even know, Kit. That’s the point. I don’t know, because you won’t tell me.”

“I don’t have a fucking STD, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Then why am I not allowed to see or touch your penis?”

“Jesus Fuck. I never fucking said that, and I think you saw it the first time we were together anyway. Why do I feel like the subject of an undercover investigation here? Why does every fucking thing have to be a code for you to crack?”

Molly’s eyes deepen to a dark indigo shade, flashing with anger. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. Why should I feel like I can’t ask you about this? Why should I feel like I can’t ask you about anything, when we’re dating?”

“You don’t just ask me about anything, you ask about every fucking thing. And you always suspect the worst, probably because of your dumbshit ex. I’m not a dom, and I don’t have an STD. What else do you want to grill me about?”

“I’m not trying to grill you. I just wanted to talk.” Her tone is icy. “But it sounds like you don’t even like me all that much. I ask about every fucking thing? I guess that’s just who I am. You knew that before you asked me out.”

“Is there ever a point where you just trust me, though? Or will you always be suspicious?”

“I’m not suspicious, I just want to know the truth. And I find it hard to believe that you just don’t like blow jobs.”