“Yeah, of course.”
“Cool.” I cross the driveway and make my way over to the barn. The side door is cracked open and I find Shaw inside. He looks fine as hell, as usual, but I’m overwhelmed by the smell of saw dust and the sheer size of the workshop. There are several workbenches around the perimeter. Tons of tools. Racks of wood and what looks like a halfway-completed canoe mounted in the middle of the room. He turns when he hears me walk in.
“Hey. I got a request for a quick project. I just need to check the ol’ supplies for something.”
“Take your time. Vaughn’s outside reliving his dancehall days.”
“You haven’t seen him dance yet, have you?”
“No, why?”
“Three prom dates. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Okay,” I laugh.
I cross the room and join him at his computer. His desk is filthy. Sawdust and wood chips everywhere. Supply catalogs with water-wrinkled pages. He writes something in a notebook that looks like it’s been around since the early 90’s, then turns and looks at me.
“I thought I had a few pieces of white birch. But I don’t, ’cause I fucking hate white birch.”
“Why?” I chuckle again. I know nothing about wood. The forest kind, at least.
“It’s cheap and it looks cheap, but some people like it.”
“You could use the scraps to finally teach me how to whittle.”
“You don’t want to whittle with birch.”
I roll my eyes and nudge him in the stomach. He grabs my hand and pulls me closer, settling his ass against his high desk.
“So, I was thinking,” he says.
“Ooh. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“See,” he sucks his teeth. “I’m trying here and you’re just throwing it in my face.”
“No, no. I’m kidding,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Tell me. What were you thinking?”
He reaches up and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I was thinking about what you said last night and I see that you’re holding back. I understand why, but I don’t think you want to.”
I stand back just a little, so I can look him in the eye without craning my neck. I drop my hands from his waist and grab his fingers instead. “I mean, it is nice to just tell you what I want and to have you actually listen. YouandVaughn. It’s pathetic that most of my experiences with men haven’t been like that.”
“Say more.”
“If I said to, I don’t know, just lick my pussy a little slower or fuck me harder, but not necessarily faster, it’s like the message didn’t make it all the way to their brain. Josh was...better than most, I guess. Probably part of the reason why I wanted to marry him, but—”
“You said you felt like he was rushing you.”
“Yeah.”
“No rush, but think about what you want your submission to me to look like. I want to get to know your desires better, so I can anticipate your needs and you can anticipate mine.”
“I think I can work on that.”
“Good. You’re not coming back next weekend, right?”
“No. It’s the Fourth. I’ll be spending a few days with my sister and my family. But maybe the week after?”
“I’ll be here.”
