“I think I’m fairly comfortable with my sexuality.”
“Yet, you’ve never asked a man to go down on you. Never demanded they do what it takes to get you off.” He raised a brow. “I don’t think you are.”
“Fine. How do I get there?”
“That’s what she said,” he said, cackling.
I pushed to my feet because none of this was funny to me. The wine was kicking in, and I was frustrated. I wanted a simple answer, and I wasn’t getting it. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him before I settled on his lap, and he wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t leave. I’m sorry. No more teasing.”
“Thank you. This is serious. I want to use this time to change the things that aren’t serving me. And bad sex is no longer serving me.”
“Okay, so let’s get down and dirty,” he said against my ear, and I tried to wiggle off his lap, but he held me there. “Don’t get nervous. It’s me. You can tell me anything.”
I turned the slightest bit to face him. “What do you want to know?”
He thought it over and then tilted his head to the side. “What do you like? What makes you feel good?”
“I don’t know—that’s the problem.”
“Yes, you do.” His gaze locked with mine. “When you touch yourself, what do you think about?”
My mouth fell open, and I was certain I was three shades of red. He touched me beneath my chin, pushing my mouth closed.
“How do you know if I even—you know? Do that.”
“Get yourself off?” he asked. “I assume you must because no one else is doing it for you.”
I blew out a breath and looked out at the water as I thought about it.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, I do it all the time,” he said.
My head whipped in his direction. “You do? Even with all the sex you have.”
“I’m not a fucking sex addict, Jeege. For the record, I have a normal amount of sex. And I love feeling good. Hell, I made myself feel good in the shower, right before dinner.”
“You did not!” I gaped at him.
“I sure did. Why do you think I’m so relaxed? Meanwhile, you’re wound tight. There’s one way to take care of that, and it doesn’t require a partner.”
Thoughts of Cutler in the shower, naked, head tipped back with water running down his golden skin as he wraps his hand around his?—
Oh. My. Gosh.
I reached across the table for my wine glass, tipped my head back, and finished it off.
He was right.
This conversation required more booze.
seven
. . .
Cutler
“Well,I’m certainly not going to touch myself while I’m sitting on your lap, so you can tell your overzealous erection to calm down,” she said with a laugh.
Clearly, she could feel him responding to her nearness.
