We got to work on the meal, chopping and frying and laughing at each other’s novice attempts at cooking techniques.
“This is going a lot better than it usually does,” Niklas murmured over my shoulder as I scrolled further down in the recipe. “If I were alone, I would have chucked the recipe by now and just thrown the meat on the grill. I thought burgers were supposed to be simple.”
I put the phone down and closed my eyes, taking in the warmth of Niklas’s body behind me. This was the same man who I had gotten down on my knees for in the shower. Where did that side go when we stood here in the kitchen, laughing. Could the two sides of me—and of him—fit together?
Niklas turned me around, doubtless for some gesture of affection, but his smile faded when he looked at me. “What’s the matter?”
I shrugged.
“Is it something about what happened in the shower?” he asked quietly.
“I liked it, Niklas. A lot. I guess that’s what’s bothering me.”
Niklas blinked. His brow furrowed. “It’s bothering you that you like sex with me? I’m not sure how I should take that.”
The corners of his mouth turned up a little, and I couldn’t help but smile. Even now, he could make me smile. That was something.
Niklas stroked my hair and pressed his lips to my head. His smile faded.
“What part is bothering you?” he asked quietly.
I took a deep breath.
“You were right about Brad, about how he’d try to get under my skin. He had a lot of things to say about our relationship—yours and mine. Some were off base, but other things stuck.”
I glanced up at Niklas. He stopped stroking my hair, and his jaw tightened. But I pushed on. “He pointed out how one-sided our relationship is. How I’m relying on you for just about everything.” I swallowed and looked down as I continued. “And he’s right. The house, the car, the meals… I already knew this, and I’ve been telling myself it’s temporary, until I—until we figure out what we’re doing.” I glanced up at Niklas. His eyes were still fixed on me. I forced myself to go on. “But in the shower, that turned me on more than anything else when you…well…”
I had never been good at talking about these details. Having sex was one thing, but talking about it somehow felt even more intimate. In fact, before I had met Niklas, I couldn’t remember a time I had discussed sex with a man. Certainly not with Brad. But Niklas wasn’t shy in this area at all.
“When I what?” he said softly. “When I wanted you on your knees? You don’t like that we both got off on that?”
His words brought the physical memory back to me. His hand on the back of my neck as he thrust into me. My skin prickled as I remembered him over me, and the temperature of the room seemed to rise a few degrees.
I looked up again and met his eyes. “Niklas, I feel like I’m taking control of my life for the first time. I don’t want something so… out of my own control to turn me on. And all these months I got the feeling you wanted to stay away from that kind of thing, too.”
His brow creased, and he was silent for a long time, stroking my arms absently with his thumbs. I resisted the urge to lean closer, trying to keep some sort of boundary between us. I had a better chance of thinking clearly this way.
Finally, he spoke. “What turns me or you on in the bedroom—or on the shower floor in this case—doesn’t have to serve as some sort of guide for outside the bedroom. We can make our relationship whatever we want it to be.”
I wasn’t sure what I thought of this statement. I frowned up at him. “You mean it can be a separate part of our life? Like it’s some sort of…kink?”
Niklas laughed. “Is that what it felt like to you?”
I smiled a little and shook my head.
“No. Actually, it felt like we were exploring something new together. I’m just afraid of where that step will lead.”
He leaned down and gently kissed me. His lips were soft and tender, as if to remind both of us of the other parts of our relationship.
“Will you sit on the counter?” he asked.
I looked warily up at him, wondering if this was an invitation for sex, but his expression suggested it wasn’t. I nodded. He lifted me up, and when I sat down, I understood why he had asked. The counter was high, and sitting on it, I was now almost at eye level with him.
“I like this,” I said, opening my legs to pull him closer.
He stepped forward, resting his hands around the outsides of my thighs.
“Is this why you’re not ready to give Sweden a try?” he asked. “You want to steer your own life, and staying with me and entering my public life makes you feel the opposite.”
