“You should do what the bloody hell you like.”
“Hm,” she crooned.“I think you’re jealous, Spook Mortensen.Which is hilarious, I might add.You don’t need to be.Ronnie’s a sweet little lamb.I don’t think he could hurt anything, excepting spiders.And besides, my interests are very firmly fixed in one particular direction.”
“Foolishly,” he muttered.“I can’t give you what you want, Alle.”
“Spook, you have, you can, and you do.I’m not going to pretend to understand why you think otherwise, but I’m all ears if you want to explain it.”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening.Ever.Bad enough that he knew what he was, without clueing in anyone else.
“Hm,” she said in response to his silence, as if it was expected.
“All right, you tell me this, Mr I’m Not Jealous Only Mysterious, if I had asked him, and he had striped my behind, would you have liked to hear me confess?”
What the hell sort of question was that?
Obviously, not.
Except that didn’t gel with the scarily squirmy physical response he was experiencing.His heart did a little jig again, but this time it didn’t make him want to dial an ambulance.
Fuck it.Yes.Yes, he would.Jeezus!What sort of man got a buzz off having it recounted to him how some other fuckwit had striped the arse of the woman he fancied?
And now… now, he was sporting enough friggin’ wood you’d be forgiven for thinking he’d just delivered said spanking, not just speculated about whether he’d like to hear about her playing with other men.
You are one sad git, Mortensen.
“I’d have you send me a photograph,” he said.
Man was he on fire today.He couldn’t trust himself within ten miles of this woman.Best they stick to their not quite, barely almost, late night chat perv-athon text marathons.At least that way all he had to worry about was his rock hard dick and not landing himself in a cell or a mental ward.
“What would you do with it?If I sent you a picture like that?”
No, no, no.She was not supposed to respond to his nonsense.
Add it to his collection.
Spend inordinately obscene amounts of time admiring it, while envisaging tracing his tongue over the welts.
Telling himself it was okay to admire it as a piece of art, just so long as he didn’t jerk off over it.
Wanking like bloody crazy over it.
This was fucking insane.He was not this person.He didn’t toss himself off over photographs.Being celibate wasn’t just about saying no to the guys and girls, it applied to self-love too.
“Are you thinking about stroking your cock?”
How the fuck could she see into his head?
“Because, I have to tell you that I’d really like it if you did.It’d be crazy hot.”
“Shut-up!”he blurted.Heat sizzling in his cheeks.
“Spook, the next time we meet up—”
Yeah, about that.
“—will you tie me up like you did in the limousine, and come all over me?I want you to get it in my hair and all over my face, and I want you to rub it into the stripes you’ve left on my arse.”
“Alle,” he gasped.
