I shake my head, elbow deep in suds and caught in this flash-frozen state. “Go ahead.” After a second. “Help yourself to top shelf.”
His footsteps pause.
“Top shelf, huh? As a thank you?”
I nod.
I think he’s watching me. I won’t look. I can’t.
“What if I don’t want top shelf?” He moves in, closer. “What if I want something else?”
“Something else.” The words aren’t words, they’re sounds I’m repeating. Meaningless huffs of air and pressure from vocal cords that have lost all power.
“Yeah.” Another step brings him so he’s right beside me.
Finally, my head swivels enough to look his way and I immediately recognize my error. This sacrosanct space might be my territory in civilized times, but this isn’t a man I’m currently facing, it’s a beast. Giant and wild. The light in his eyes isn’t rational. It’s hovering at some halfway point between cagey and hungry, watching me like he’s some massive, sleek creature hidden deep in the jungle and I’m an intruder he’s considering making a meal of. There’s a danger to that liminal place.
“What if I want another go?”
Everything inside me goes liquid, hot and loose and syrupy thick. My body doesn’t even pretend not to know what he’s talking about.
“Would that work for you, Kitty?” A final step brings him right up against my back, not quite touching, but there.
Here.Right here.
“It’s against the rules. The contract?—”
“I don’t give a shit about the contract, Katarina.”
“Well, I do. We agreed this would never happen at work.”
“Yeah?” His bulk shifts, tilts, close enough that he barely has to voice his next words. I feel more than hear them against my ear—a warm puff of air, a cold shiver up my spine. “Stop me.”
Is that a dare? A request? I can’t tell. Can’t move. Can’t, apparently, meet the challenge at all.
The fabric covering my butt shifts. Is he…touching my skirt?
He is. Oh, God, he’s pulling it up, slowly, a panther playing with its food.
I should tell him not to.
“Spread your legs.”
After a few seconds’ hesitation, I obey, giving tacit consent.
What rule is he breaking right now?
No doing it in the restaurant. That’s the rule I’m letting him break by widening my stance.
Just that one move. The rest of me is immobile. The rest of mewantsthe rules. The contract. The framework. Guidelines to make sure this doesn’t get out of hand. I need them. They’re essential to absolutely every part of my life—myexistence—and yet, I can’t for the life of me find my voice to make him back up.
“Good girl.”
Oh, thosewords. They settle into my marrow, warm me from the inside out as cool air hits my thighs. He’s dragging the skirt up and up and up and then…
Behind me, Jake expels a low, grating sound. It’s my thong, I imagine. Probably. It’s not meant for seduction, which I’m sure he wouldn’t believe. I wear them because my ass is big and I’ll wind up with material inching up between my cheeks anyway. At least like this, it’s minimal. My choice.
“Fuck, yes,” he mutters, like I’ve somehow done something right.
