“I don’t see why we can’t...keep having sex. I’m designing a house for you. There’s a natural end to our acquaintance. It’s...” She laughed, shaking her head. “You know, when my brother Isaiah proposed to his wife he told her it made sense. That it was logical. And I was angry at him because it was the least romantic thing I’d ever heard.”
“I’m not sure I follow you.”
“They weren’t dating. She was his assistant. He was looking for a wife, and because he thought she was such a good assistant it meant she would likely make a good wife.”
“And that went well for him?”
“Well, not at first. And I was angry at him. I hated the fact that he was turning something personal into a rational numbers game. It didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem fair. But now it kind of makes sense to me. Not that we are talking about marriage, but...an arrangement. Being near each other is going to be difficult after what we shared.”
“I’m fine,” he lied, taking a step away from her and her far-too-earnest face.
Iffinewas existing in a bad mood with a persistent hard-on, yeah, he was fine.
“I’m not,” she said softly.
She took a step toward him, just like she had done on those other occasions. Like a kid who kept reaching her hand toward the stove, even though she’d been burned.
That he thought of that metaphor should be the first clue he needed to take a step away. But he didn’t.
It’s too late.
The damage had already been done.
The time in prison had already changed him. Hell, maybe the damage had been done when he was born. His father’s genes flowing through his veins were far too powerful for Levi to fight against.
“Until you’re done designing the house,” he said, his voice hard. “Just until then.”
Her shoulders sagged in relief, and the look of vulnerability on her face would have made a better man rethink everything.
But Levi wasn’t a better man. And he had no intention of attempting to be one at this point.
“I’m supposed to be at work,” she said. “I really should get back.”
He reached out and grabbed the handle on the front door, shutting it hard behind her. “No,” he said. “Baby, you stepped into the lion’s den. And you’re not leaving until I’m good and ready for you to leave.”
“But work,” she said, her voice small.
“But this,” he responded, wrapping his hand around her wrist and dragging her palm toward him. He pressed it against that hard-on making itself known in the front of his jeans.
“Oh,” she said, pressing her palm more firmly down and rubbing against him.
“You want to do this, we’re doing it my way,” he said. “I didn’t know you were a virgin the first time, but now it’s done. Taken care of. I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re inexperienced, do you understand?”
And he wasn’t sure she had any idea at all what she was agreeing to. She nodded again.
If he was a better man, that, too, might have given him pause.
But he wasn’t. So it didn’t.
“I like to be in charge. And I don’t have patience for inhibition. Do you understand me?” She looked up at him, those eyes wide. He didn’t think she understood at all. “That means if you want to do it, you do it. If you want me to do it, you ask for it. Don’t hide your body from me, and I won’t hide mine from you. I want to see you. I want to touch you everywhere. And there’s no limit to what I’m going to do. That means the same goes for you. You can do whatever you want to me.”
“But you’re in charge,” she said faintly.
“And that’s my rule. If you think it’ll feel good, do it. For you, for me.” He leaned in, cupping her head in his hand and looking at her intently. “Sex can be a chore. If you’re in a relationship with someone for a long time and there’s no spark between you anymore—which doesn’t happen on accident, you have to stop caring—then it can be perfunctory. Lights off. Something you just do. Like eating dinner.
“Now, if there’s no emotional divide I don’t mind routine sex. There’s a comfort in it. But I hadn’t had sex in five years. There is no routine for me. That means I want raw. I want dirty. Because it can be that, too. It can be wild and intense. It can be slow and easy. It can be deliciously filthy. Sex can make you agree to things, say things, do things that if you were in your right mind you would find...objectionable. But when you’re turned on, a lot of things seem like a good idea when they wouldn’t otherwise. And that’s the space I want to go to with you. That means no thinking. Just feeling.”
Then he lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder. She squeaked, but she didn’t fight his hold as he carried her out of the entry and up the stairs.
