“It’s—because I’m angry,” he blurts. “It’s… angry. An angry boner.”
I grin so hard it hurts. “Can’t wait to see how angry it gets later. Midnight. Outside the rec room.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As serious as your angry boner,” I say, adjusting myself just to watch him turn red before I walk away.
I get to the rec room early. Not because I’m eager. Okay, maybe because I’m eager.
Mostly it’s so I can hide in the shadows near the stairwell and see him come down the hall, but I almost miss him because the bastard shows up at eleven forty-fucking-five.
“Eager, are we?” I say, turning my own eagerness on him.
He jumps, then scowls at me. “Says the guy who got here even earlier to lurk like some kind of creeper.”
“Well, at least we know it’s dark enough.” I smirk. “And duh, of course I’m eager. I’m about to get my dick sucked.”
He hesitates. “About that…”
“Going back on a challenge so easily?” I tease, although obviously I’d never force him to do something he doesn’t actually want to do. The thing is, I truly believe he does want it. He just needs the excuse as a cover. He needs the direction and dominance to get him out of his head.
“N-no!” he says way too fast. “I just… I’m not into men. So I’ve never done…that… before.”
“Ah,” I say, nodding in a way that makes him think I believe him. I don’t. “I understand.”
“You do?” he asks, hopeful.
“You’re scared,” I say simply. “But don’t worry. I won’t hurt you unless you want me to.”
His whole damn body reacts. Even in the dark, I can see him fold forward a fraction, like he’s trying to hide the way his hips jerk. Oh yeah, he wants this. He wants it bad.
I step closer.
“Is it the dirty talk?” I ask quietly. “Or the humiliation?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s okay,” I say, letting my mouth drop low enough to brush along his neck. “I’ll figure it out myself.”
I lean in, lips almost touching his ear.
“Get on your knees.”
CHAPTER 11
BECK
“Is it the dirty talk or the humiliation?”
The question echoes in my mind, bouncing around my skull and lighting up neuro-pathways that didn’t exist before. His voice, curious and taunting, makes me think he already knows the answer. It’s the same way Caty dissected my psyche like a puzzle that was meant to be solved. It’s almost as if Brody can already see what I am beneath the layers of exterior polish I’ve cultivated.
I am a perfectionist, a master of control in myself and everything around me. I’m a champion, a leader, an influence to others.
“You’re a rubber band stretched so tight you squeak when you breathe.”
Can I be all of those things and still crave the surrender of someone else taking charge? Someone who doesn’t put the same expectations on my shoulders that everyone else does?
My father demands perfection. My team demands leadership. Even my relationship with Caty demands a façade when we aren’t behind locked doors.
