I grinned widely. “You’d get devoured faster than a fucking cinnamon bun, that’s for sure.”
She gasped, and you know what? I liked it. I wanted more of those sounds. I liked every fucking sound she made, whether in humour or anger, or fucking horniness. I wanted them all, like a soundtrack to my otherwise empty fucking days.
“Bet you taste a million times sweeter too… with a little salty tang, because you have a tendency to be a little salty sometimes.”
“Oh my god. Stop talking, dickhead!”
I grinned widely. I’d put my fucking cards on the table here. I was baring my soul, and risking getting my heart handed to me right along with my ass. She was a terrifying woman at times, but it seemed that it was something I enjoyed. The threat. The way any conversation could turn into a fight. The way we could defuse it with a little humour, and go right back to the way we were. It worked. Did it work for her? Was she getting as much enjoyment out of it as me?
“We’ve both been hurt,” I said, quieter now, because this was the scary shit.
V sobered, glancing down at Nixie as she ticked her ears. “Yeah.”
I waited until she lifted her eyes again, because I needed to see her when I said this, just like I needed her to see me. To see the truth right here in my fucking eyes. In my soul.
“I’m not looking to hurt you. I want to spend time with you, have fun, make you smile and laugh. Make you come a lot, obviously. But I want to do all of that with you feeling safe that you’re protected. That I’m not about to fuck around, or mess with your emotions. I’m not about to fucking manipulate you or gaslight you. I’m not a complex person, but despite what others might assume about me, I’m genuine. I’m trustworthy. If I say something, it’s because I fucking mean it.”
V was chewing at her lip as she listened to me, and the conflict in her eyes told me she wanted to try, but she was still struggling to trust. Who other than me could understand that feeling?
“How about we do it like this? We say up front what we want, and make it clear. We don’t hint. We don’t fake. We don’t fucking assume. I want you. That’s a fact. That’s truth. I’ll make it fucking good for you. That’s also fucking truth. I won’t hurt you, or break your trust, and I’ll take the time to try and fucking earn it. All facts. All truths.” I cleared my throat and jabbed a finger in her direction. “Your turn.”
V wrapped her free hand around her coffee, and took a moment to sip it. She wasn’t fucking with me, or edging me for a response. She was composing herself. Forming her words silently first. The least she deserved was the time to do that. I sipped the last of my coffee while I waited, and I could see the apprehension was still there, but her shoulders were lifting a little, like she was steeling herself. Suddenly I was afraid of her next words.
She sighed, setting her drink down again, angling it precisely with the handle away from her. Focusing. Preparing.
“I like you, Rocket. I didn’t expect to, and I certainly didn’t think I’d trust someone again. Not one with a penis. I… I’m not saying I trust you, not yet. I am saying I’m willing to give you a chance though. I’ve laughed more with you these last few days than I have in years.”
She swallowed, lifted her chin a little, and forced a slow breath.
“I want to come to the clubhouse tonight. To your room. I want you to do things to me that you say will make me feel good. I want to feel good, Rocket. I want to feel freed from all the shit weighing me down right now. I want to… I want to breathe easier.”
I felt my lips twitch a little, but it wasn’t humour in response to her words, not really. It was more the thought that I’d have her gasping for breath, rather than breathing easier, but I got her point.
She groaned. “You’re thinking something rude, you bastard. You’re so easy to read.”
I laughed, keeping eye contact even though the moment was a little askew at this point.
“Not gonna lie. I was definitely thinking something rude. Something about making it harder for you to breathe… you know… while we’re doing it. But remember that thing you just said there. I’m easy to read. I don’t hide shit. I don’t lie. I don’t cheat or play with people’s emotions. I’ve been there. I’ve lived that hell. So yeah, keep reading me, babe. You’ll only see what’s real.”
V
Inever expected himto literally put it out there. He wanted to fuck me, and I wanted that just as badly. Did I think it’d lead anywhere? Probably not, but was I worried it might lose me the only friend I’d made since I moved here? A little. I say a little, because I have a feeling he’d be hard to shake, even just as a friend. He needed one just as much as me. It’s why we connected the way we did. Betrayed by partners, feeling lost, alone, unsupported. We were the same in so many ways.
“Hope you’re as good as you say you are, Rocket. I need to come a lot.”
He had just taken a mouthful of his coffee, and practically spat it back in the cup.
“Jesus, woman!” He grabbed the paper napkin from his plate and wiped his mouth.
“Did I get you?”
I shook my head, and he crumpled up the coffee-coated napkin and tossed it aside.
“Seems we were both looking to get choked today.”
Someone gasped behind him, and I looked up to see the barista who’d served us, carrying a tray.
I watched as she hurried away from us, and grinned at Rocket.
