His head tips to one side. "I'm pretty certain I know what you're thinking about, generally. What I want is to know the specific contents and tenor of your thoughts."
"I hardly know where to begin, Jakob. It's tempting to open with a statement along the lines of 'I'm not that type of girl, normally,' whichisa factual statement."
"What type of girl would that be, Brys?" Ah, there it is—that tone. His voice—already deep—goes deeper and darker and syrupy-smooth, crackling with seduction. It makes my core throb, makes my hormones go haywire. Makes me want to beg for his cock. I'm not going to, but when he uses that voice on me, my reaction is instantly and viscerally erotic.
The intense heat in his eyes when he looks at me tells me I've delayed my answer too long. "What kind of girl, Brys? I expect an answer."
"We aren't doing that right now, Jakob. There is a time and a place and a context for such behavior, and this is not that."
He quirks an eyebrow at me. "Do what, Brys?"
"Use that voice on me."
He seems puzzled—genuinely, or he's a very good actor. "Voice?"
"The seductive voice."
His smirk is a fascinating thing. "Oh. I see.Thatvoice."
"You know you're doing it, Jakob. Don't play dumb with me." I give him a pointed glare. "We can discuss terms for engaging in…consensual and mutually agreeable adult activities…but donotinsult my intelligence by pretending you don't knowexactlywhat you're doing, or that I'm unaware of what you're doing."
Jakob snorts. "Engaging in consensual and mutually agreeable adult activities. Is that what we're calling it now, Miss Bennett? Shall we circle back to this later? Put a pin in it? Worktogether for greater synergy? Should we try and take a more holistic approach?"
I wince. "Jakob, stop. You know what I meant."
"I do. But I believe in saying what you mean. I hate corporatese. I hate vagueness. I hate dancing around the subject." He checks his blind spot before swinging around a slow-moving tractor-trailer hauling gravel or something like that. "If you have something to say, say it. If you can't discuss your own sexual preferences openly and honestly in plain terms…" he trails off, leaving the 'then' portion of his statement unspoken. It's obvious enough what he means, however.
I glare out the window, equal parts annoyed and angry at him for calling me out and embarrassed that he's right. "I have never done anything like that. The…submissive…stuff, I mean. Obviously, the sexual acts I have. It's the…"
"It isn't submission, Brys."
"Not in the dom-sub way, no. I know that."
"Inanyway, Brys. You did not submit to me. You played a part. Look at it like role-playing."
I shake my head. "Absolutely not. I despise role-playing. When I was an intern starting at the bottom of BDI, one of the middle managers wasobsessedwith role-playing games as a team-building exercise. Drove me insane. So that's pretty much the worst thing you could have said."
He scrapes his hand through his thick, glossy, wavy black hair. "I'm sorry."
"You couldn't have known."
A shrug. “No, but still." A beat passes, his expression shifting as he thinks. "My statement stands, however. I don't like to think of it as dominance or submission. Those have specific meanings, even outside of sexual kinks or whatever. What we did was…it's about control, Brys. I require control. In business, in everything, but especially in sex. I…" he shakes his head. "And you…you dotoo. But I think you don'twantto be in control all the time, do you?" He holds my gaze as long as he safely can while driving on a freeway, his eyes darting to the road and back to me every few seconds. "Can you answer that honestly and bluntly, Brys?"
"No," I whisper. "I don't want to be in control all the time."
"I know. You readily, willingly, and I would even dare to say eagerly handed me the reins, metaphorically speaking. No, I’m not calling you a horse, it’s merely a turn of phrase.”
I roll my eyes. "I understand, but thank you for that clarification."
"Youenjoyedgiving me control, didn't you?" His question feels like a leading statement by a prosecutor.
"Yes," I breathe. "I did enjoy it. It was…it was a relief." My face heats and my belly twists, but I plunge onward with the truth. "It's something I…something I have…" I can't get it past my throat.
"Say it, Brys."
"It's something I've secretly fantasized about for a very, very long time. I've just…I've never trusted anyone with that secret. How do you go about finding someone to fill that role? What I want and need is very specific, Jakob. I will not be led around on a leash. I will not sit by, demure and silent, while the men speak. I am who I am. Out in the world, in business, in day to day life, I am who I am—a businesswoman, a boss, a CEO…I'm type-A. I'm competitive. I like to win. I am driven to succeed."
"Sounds familiar."
