She watches as I finish and then looks meaningfully at the bed. “Oh! Right, let me just… should I keep the boxers on?”
Cole’s hand comes up, massaging her temples as if I’m causing her great distress. Her other hand is firmly planted on her hip. She’s still only wearing a pleated plaid skirt and a deep green lace bra, her creamy skin is on full display, speckled with freckles. I take a moment to admire her, aware that she’s now staring right back at me.
One particular area of me.
“What if I said boxers off?” she asks.
“Then the boxers would come off, Colette. I meant what I said. You’re in charge here.”
“Keep them on… for now. And get on the bed, Benjamin.”
“Are you ever going to call me by my real name?”
“No,” she says, opening the top drawer of her dresser and pulling out a long silk cloth. “How do you feel about being restrained? I’d love to gag you but that might be too much for your first time.”
“This isn’t my first time!”
Hermhmmis non-committal.
“Red, when did you become such a freak?”
“I always was a freak,” she starts, holding up a hand when she sees me begin to protest. “But I know that’s not really what you meant. I started exploring kink in college. Nothing intense… Kink-lite, if you will. I had one serious girlfriend… Eventually she also had a boyfriend. I learned a lot from them, specifically that that wasn’t really the type of relationship I wanted. But it was a safe space to explore my sexuality. And—” Her spine snaps straight as if she just registered something. “I’m realizing now that I just gave you a long-winded explanation that you probably did not want or need.”
“I did,” I reply simply. Then, in what I hope will be a peace offering, I hold out my wrists. “Tie me up, Red.”
“Patience, Benjamin. I have an IUD and I’ve been tested since my last partner. There are also condoms in the dresser.” As she’s speaking, she steps up to me, her hand coming to my shoulder and guiding me down to the bed. It puts me eye level with her tits, and I have to fist the sheets to stop myself from reaching toward her.
“I had a vasectomy,” I admit, my entire focus on how easy it would be to lean forward and lick the spot where her bra meets her skin.
I’m about to do just that when I realize she’s stopped moving. “Everything okay?” I ask.
Her eyes are narrowed again, trying to read something on my face.
“You had a vasectomy?” she asks.
“It’s reversible, if you want kids. But I don’t think I do. Do you?” Suddenly her answer means everything to me.
“Why would it matter to you whether or not I want kids?” That non-answer makes my skin crawl.
“It does matter to me.”Everything you do matters to me.
Cole’s lips rub together, contemplating whether she’s going to answer my question. Ultimately, she shakes her head. “I don’t want kids.”
I can’t help myself any longer.
Finally—fucking finally—I kiss Colette Russell.
Somewhere between picking out flowers with Heather and the sight of Ben kneeling at my feet, I lost my mind. Ben showing back up in my life, reminding me of the pact, being there at every fucking turn… I made a rash decision. Something I almost never do.
And now, he’s kissing me. With his lips. His extremely luscious lips. Because I said I don’t want kids.
I. Am. So. Confused.
Also, turned on.
I’m confused and turned on. And confused about being turned on by Benoit Bardot. Someone who has been firmly planted in the “nemesis” portion of my brain for over half of my life. I knew that moving him to the “fuck buddy” portion of my brain would be difficult, but he’s doing it all wrong.
We aren’t supposed to be kissing.
