Page 44 of Talk: WTF Episode 1

“I know. You don’t need to want me. I’m not trying to seduce you. I’m not trying to date you. I’m not even trying to fuck you—unless that’s something you want, of course…”

“Wha—”

He cuts me off with a breathy chuckle that scalds my ear. Then he murmurs, “All I want is todominateyou.”

The emphasis he places on that word causes my whole body to shudder for a reason I can’t explain. Not that I can explain any of this. S&M? Submission? That’s not me.

Then why the fuck is your cock so hard it’s about to tear through your jeans, Forrester?

Jazz finally takes a step back to once again prop himself on the counter, giving me some much-needed space to breathe and preventing me from doing something completely insane—like snapping my hips forward and grinding against his thigh.

Jazz glances down at my crotch, his mouth twitching with clear amusement. “I’d offer to help with that…situation, but I think it would be better for you to figure things out with a clear head.”

I try to make sense of his words but my head is still swimming. I rub a hand over my still flaming-hot face, shaking my head. “Figure things out?”

He nods. “Like I said, you need towantto want it. So I’ll back off and let you think everything through.”

My brows draw together. “Back off?”

Fucking hell, I sound like a parrot.

He shrugs. “No more texts, no more calls, no more bathroom…interludes. I’ll give you some space to work your shit out.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “So, what—now you’re trying the reverse psychology thing? You think if you play hard to get I’ll crack or something?”

He rolls his eyes. “No.I think the past few days have been pretty crazy and you need some time to digest everything. You need to decide whether your newfound predilection for sexual submission and emotional masochism is something you want to explore further or squash down and ignore.”

I can’t help cringing, hearing words like “predilection” and “submission” and “masochism” thrown around so casually in association withme.

“Yeah, this needs to go,” Jazz says, gesturing at my expression. “If you decide to do this, you need to own it. Being shamed might be a part of this kink, but that doesn’t make engaging in it shameful.”

I absently nod, not trusting myself to say anything. This whole encounter has been insane and I desperately need it to be over.

Thankfully, Jazz doesn’t seem inclined to linger now he’s said his piece. He steps away from the counter and heads for the door; as he’s about to open it, he turns back to flash me a cocky smile. “Oh, and dirty boy—you’re going to find I’m not remotely hard to get. Once you’re done working through all your misgivings and confusion and apprehension and you decide you want this…just come and get it.”