Hunter felt betterafter they talked, and Quinn proved helpful as well. The guy quickly set him straight on his wrong-footed assumptions about what a kinky relationship looked like.
“It looks like a relationship,” Quinn drawled two days later when he busted Hunter googling how to introduce BDSM into a new romance. “Something only an insane man would be up for, because why sign up for hell of a lot of hard work like that? But it’s just two people negotiating what they like and what they don’t. Don’t over-think it.”
But it was all he wanted to think about, and not in a bad way. Now that his mind had been opened to kink being more than what a bunch of letters stood for, he was…curious.
Wary, too.
So the night before they flew out to Vegas, he told Serena he’d been doing more research. “But now I just have more questions,” he admitted, leaning back against the kitchen counter as she mixed a salad together.
She blushed as she glanced sideways at him. “Questions?”
The way she flushed heated his own blood right to the boiling point. “Does that embarrass you?” He moved closer, brushing a few strands of her hair off her cheek. Her lips parted as his fingertips skimmed her skin, and deep inside he felt desire start its irresistible pull.
“Maybe a little,” she whispered.
“I’d never want to hurt you,” he said quietly. “But I like pushing you to that limit. Out of your comfort zone.”
She blinked up at him. “Control freak.” She smiled softly. “One of the many things I love about you.”
He’d been thinking a lot about that. How she really resisted just coming out and saying what she wanted. She wasn’t passive about sex, not at all, but she was…coy.
The realization slammed into him like a freight train. Damn. Didn’t she know he was a typical guy who needed shit spelled out for him?
And spelling out exactly what she wanted would spoil her fun.
Shit.
Well, they’d find their way. But if they were going to do it by trial and error, it would take a hell of a lot longer.
Good thing he liked experimenting with her.
“Show me how far down that blush goes,” he said abruptly, pointing at the tempting vee of the soft button-down shirt she wore. She always wore those shirts, or a robe, while she was painting. Easy off.
Convenient for him, and his throbbing dick that wanted her to strip for him and then fall to her knees.
Without hesitating, her fingers flew to the buttons, baring the sweet inner curve of her breasts beneath the fabric.
No bra. He approved, and he opened his mouth to tell her that, but then stopped and corrected himself.Up the ante. “I like the idea of your nipples rubbing against the fabric all day.”
She raised her eyebrows, a pleased sparkle lighting up her eyes.
He gave her a slow grin in response. “Yes. I like that a lot. No more bras for you when you’re at home.”
She laughed out loud, then nodded pertly. “Okay.”
“All the way off,” he added, pointing at where the shirt still hung on her shoulders. “And then come here.”
He’d changed his mind about the blow job. He wanted to feast on her breasts first. Her breasts, her mouth, the sweet warmth between her silky legs…
Experimenting with Serena. What a hardship.
