“What type?”
She blinks. “Sorry, what?”
“Of pizza. What toppings do you like?”
She licks her lips. “I haven’t had pizza in forever,” she mutters.
“All the more reason to get one you enjoy.”
“Spicy.”
It’s my turn to blink. “Like pepperoni?”
“No, spicy. Like an explosion of heat in your body, something that makes you sweat.”
I screw my face up. “Okay…we’ll get half and half.”
“Not a spicy fan?”
I snort as I move to the coffee table and pick up my phone to put in the order. “I’m one hundred percent a spicy fan—just not on my food.” She eyeballs the bedroom, then the sofa.Come on, Cleo, find that fire in your soul and come sit with me. Stop retreating to the dull boring life you covet. It might be safe, but it’s slowly killing you.
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth. She needs to stop doing that if I’m going to behave. My heart sinks as she disappears into the bedroom. I can’t enjoy her if she’s hiding. She reappears with a book in her hand and plonks her ass down on the sofa. She’s still wearing those tiny fucking shorts that I have spent the better part of the afternoon wishing she’d continue to lie to me so I could peel them off her body.
“What’s your book about?” I ask.
Her eyes flick over the top of the book at me. “Tragedy, love, desire.”
“Sounds good. Perhaps I should read it after you.”
I’ll give her credit for the fact that she keeps her heart rate in check and the blush from creeping across her cheeks. Thatcontrol comes from a time when she had to conceal her true reactions. That’s the control I want to unravel.
“Perhaps you should. You might learn a thing or two,” she mutters.
My lips twitch. Sure, the scenes in that book test the edges of what people might consider normal when it comes to sex. But to me, someone whose tastes run a little darker, it barely scratches the surface. Good to know she considers those things to be situations she would enjoy though.
“You should highlight the scenes you think I should pay attention to.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why?”
I shrug. “I enjoy learning.”About what you find interesting.
She drops the book to her lap. “You’ve read it,” she accuses.
“Have I?” I tilt my head like I’m trying to see the cover, and she snaps the book closed.
“Why don’t you tell me your favorite scene?”
“Now you are playing with fire, Cleo. Are you sure you want me to answer that question?”
Her mouth pops open and she quirks a brow. Stubborn—and I’m here for it.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
“There’s a scene where he hunts her.”
“It’s called primal play.”
My lips twitch.Oh, I’m well aware of what it’s called, Cleo.“Yes, that’s the one. She gives her consent for him to do what he wants. On the surface, it might seem like he has all the power.”
