I try to cover how flustered I am. “So. What about you? Do you have any limits I should know about?”
The answer I expect is No. He’s going to be the one in control; what limits could he possibly need? Instead Jonah answers me immediately. “The main thing is that if we’re ever discovered—if someone thinks what’s happening is real and steps in or calls the police—you have to set them straight. I don’t care if you’re ashamed of this fantasy. You tell them the truth, no matter what.”
“Of course. I would do that anyway.” I hadn’t even realized what a risk Jonah was taking. He studies my face carefully, and I know he’s trying to figure out whether I’m being honest about backing him up. More gently I add, “We have to trust each other or this doesn’t work.”
“Right.” Jonah goes back to his points like he hadn’t paused. “I told you I wasn’t a sadist. Well, I’m not a masochist either. Sometimes I realize you might want to fight back—and I might like that. If you struggled.” The way he smiles at me makes me go hot all over. I shift on the sofa, and I can feel how slick I am between my thighs. “A few scratches, a slap, that’s fine. A black eye or broken arm I have to explain to people, that’s not fine.”
“Got it.” Like I could take out Jonah Marks. If we ever fought for real, he’d have me down within seconds.
He takes a deep breath. “Last thing, never call me Daddy.”
I stare at him. It’s all I can do not to laugh.
Obviously he sees my amusement. His scowl deepens. “Some women say that, in bed.”
“I know.” I swallow the last of my smile.
“If I ask you to talk, I’ll tell you what to call me. And you’ll say it.”
The urge to laugh vanishes. In its place are other, more primal urges. I want this man to give me orders. I want him to tell me what to do.
If Jonah accepted my weird limit, I can accept his. “‘Daddy’—that’s not one of my things. So we’re good.”
“And for the first time only—” Jonah considers for a moment. “I want to tell you what to say.”
“Do you mean, like, a script?”
“No. I mean, I’ll tell you to shut up, and you’ll do it. You’ll only speak when I let you, and only say what I tell you to say. We can get more—improvisational, as we go on. But this time, I want that much control. Will you give it to me?”
Again I feel that quiver in my belly, fear and wanting intertwined. “Yes, I will.” I’ve given him so much power over me already. A few words won’t make any difference.
Jonah nods, satisfied. We have our ground rules.
The waiter circles by again hopefully, but our wineglasses are still half full. I’ve held true to my plan not to drink too much tonight. Not only will I be driving home, but I also think it’s important to keep my head.
Then again, I’m here making plans for a guy I hardly know to pretend to rape me. It could be argued I lost my head a while ago.
“We’ll want a safe word,” Jonah says.
I’ve heard of a safe word, of course, but I always thought it was strictly an S&M thing. It makes sense for us, though. We’re already talking about scenarios in which I might be physically fighting him off. Jonah needs to know what it would sound like if I said no for real. “Silver.”
“Silver?”
“That’s the safe word. Silver.” I chose it off the top of my head, but now I like it. “What do we do if I want you to stop, but I can’t talk?”
Either because he has me gagged, or because his cock is in my mouth . . .
“Then snap your fingers. You should always be able to do that.” Jonah smiles slowly. He knows he has me where he wants me. “Even in handcuffs.”
I can’t speak. My breaths are short and fast between parted lips. Part of me is terrified by the thought of this man putting me in handcuffs. The other part of me wishes he’d do it this second. Cuff me, drag me out of here and do God knows what for hours—
“Don’t worry. Like you said, I won’t use handcuffs the first time,” he murmurs. “Or ropes, or any other kind of restraints. I realize that’s something I’ll have to earn.”
My voice is husky as I say, “I’d like it if we got there. Someday.”
“Me too. As soon as you’re ready, but not before.” Jonah extends his arm along the back of the couch. He doesn’t put his arm around me. Instead he brushes the curve of my shoulder with his fingertips. The touch sets me on fire. “Anything else you don’t want when we get together the first time? Be specific. Because there are a lot of things I want to do to you. If I should avoid any of them, tell me now, so I don’t get my hopes up.”
Once again I glance around; this is something else I don’t want overheard. “This time—um—no anal sex.”
I blush from even having said that out loud.
Jonah’s fingers stroke the curve of my shoulder again. “That’s a shame.”
“Just not the first time or two. Okay? If this turns out to be too scary for me, too much, then I don’t want that to be a part of it.”
He nods, comprehending. “You haven’t done that before, have you?”