“Yeah, but the next part is really graphic. And I already feel like I’m talking dirty to you.”
Because you are, she thought at him, automatically, unbidden. Even though that wasn’t true in the slightest. He’d barely said anything, for starters. And even if he had, well. This was just helping him through stuff.
It was almost a science project. A doctor’s appointment. A way to test how far he could go while under the extra-strength Feel Better, and the scent blocker, and the threat of the Make Nice.They’re probably mingling in the air to hold him in, she thought, and that sounded plausible.
Or at least plausible enough to let him go on.
“All you did was mention my squeaking. I think you’re safeto continue without veering into the land of saying filthy things to me,” she said—which seemed to work. He hesitated again, but eventually, eventually, he managed to digest that concept enough to confess a little more.
“You suck your pencil when you’re thinking,” he said, too loud and too fast.
Though the words were still pretty tame in her opinion.
Not to mention nonsensical.
“It can’t be that. You hated when I used to do it.”
“I hated it because you never knew where the pencil had come from,” he sighed. “Not because it was super horrible to look at or anything. I mean, I didn’t get turned on over it, of course I didn’t. That totally never happened. But it wasn’t unpleasant. And now it’s really super not unpleasant, in about twenty ways.”
“Name one way, I dare you.”
“Your lips look all pouty when you do it.”
“My lips are not pouty,” she snorted.
But all that did was get him almost rolling his eyes at her.
“Come on, Cass. They are—and even if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. They would still look good doing something like that. Because the thing is, you do it really slowly, and you slide it really far in, and sometimes I can see your tongue curling around it as you do in this really slick, dirty-looking way, and ohhhh god what am I saying?” he asked, so despairingly that he ended his sentence by putting his face in his hands.
And then she had to somehow hide that she wanted to put her face in hers.
“Nothing that I can’t handle,” she said. But that didn’t seem to help him.
“Don’t say that, it makes me want to go further,” he groaned through his fingers. And okay, at that point she couldn’t help being a little shocked. Or sounding somewhat breathless.
“There’sfurtherthan me giving a blowjob to a writing implement?”
“Well, maybe not when you put it like that.”
“I’m only saying what you said.”
He gave her an indignant look. “All I did was describe it.”
“Describing is worse.”
“Then I’ll stop. I should stop.”
“It doesn’t sound like you want to anymore.”
What the fuck did you say that for, her mind wanted to know. Because she had to admit, it didn’t seem like she was merely running a test anymore. It didn’t sound like her professional opinion on the matter. It seemed like she was urging him on, for her own reasons. Like shewantedto hear him talk like this. Like she wasenjoyingsomething about it.
Even though she wasn’t, she truly wasn’t. She simply couldn’t help encouraging him, every time it seemed as if he wanted to go further. And especially when there was no reason he shouldn’t. Her kitchen was a safe place. She had no objections. If he felt like it, why not?
And she could tell he definitely did.
He dropped his hands from his face when she said those last words. And now he was holding her gaze, steadily. Almost dazedly. As if he were slowly falling into a dream.
Though she didn’t think it was an ordinary one.
