She rolls her eyes and smirks at me. “No shit. So, what, you were a Dom?”
“What? Fuck no, nothing like that. I just like to be in control in the bedroom, and everywhere else in my life, and now, I don’t know what to do, because I lost that.”
She looks at me, confusion written in furrowed brow and the twist of her mouth. “What makes you think you lost that?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. I’m not following you here.”
“Jesus Christ, Danika,” I yell, my anger and frustration finally boiling over. “I can’t use my fucking legs. How the hell am I supposed to fuck you?”
I want to slap him—just haul on off and smack my hand across his beautiful face. I want to scream at him and shake him and rage until he realizes how fucking ridiculous he is, how totally, completely, utterly crazy he sounds at this moment.
But, instead, I take a cleansing breath, slide down his lap, and throw my leg across him, straddling his pelvis and squeezing his hips between my knees.
Taking his face in my hands, I force him to look at me. “Stop. Just, stop.”
“Danika…”
The exhaustion he’s feeling is written all over his face and, even though I know he doesn’t want to hear it, he is going to listen to me.
“No, now you’re done; now you are going to listen to me.” He starts to protest, but I press my hand over his mouth and shake my head. “No.”
He glares at me, but when I remove my hand, he presses his lips in a tight line and raises his eyebrow in question.
“Baby, did you really think I don’t know you have some dominance and control issues? The moment I walked into your office, you radiated power, confidence, control. You exude it, whether you intend to or not. You were the epitome of everything I always sought out, a man who would pin me against the wall and fuck me blind whenever I wanted it.”
He freezes beneath me, his eyes going cold at my words. I know that probably hurt him, but he needs to hear what I have to say, all of it. “Hard and fast was the way I always lived my life, and preferred my sex. I never wanted a relationship. I never wanted love. I never wanted anything more than great sex, and I was happy with that. Or so I thought. You want to know why I came to the club that night, after I had left like a fucking asshole? I came back because I barely knew you and I already wanted something more than I ever wanted with anyone before. I wanted you for more than your cock.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly and he tilts his head to side. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult?”
I kiss him gently and shift closer to him. “It is definitely a compliment. Look, I’m not going to lie. When I found out, I was confused as hell and not sure what I was going to do. Then, when I was in D.C., I kept waiting for you to call or text me like a fucking high schooler waiting to see if her crush is going to ask her to prom.”
He chuckles, squeezing his hands around my waist.
“I’m serious. I wasn’t even like that in high school. This has been a completely new and utterly terrifying experience for me.”
“Being with me is terrifying?” he asks jokingly. He leans in to nuzzle my neck.
“No, being in love with you is terrifying. I’m afraid I’m going to lose you and won’t know how to live without you.”
He pulls back, his love-filled gaze filling me with a warmth only he can provide. “Baby, you won’t lose me, ever. The last couple months have been torture for me, trying to stay away from you.”
Ditto.
“Then, why are you trying to push me away again?”
He recoils slightly, confusion in his eyes. “I’m not.”
“Then stop talking nonsense. Baby, I’m not worried about our sex life.”
“How can you possibly say that?”
“Well, there have to be a thousand different ways to have sex. The Kama Sutra alone has sixty-four positions.”
He groans. “I don’t want to know how you know that. Seriously.”
I roll my eyes and continue, “My point is, we try and figure out what works. And if all else fails, I don’t care if I have to ride you like Seabiscuit.”
His laughter fills my ears and eases the tension in my chest. “Really? Seabiscuit? You need to update your analogies, American Pharoah baby, American Pharoah.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I pull his face to mine and attack his mouth with my own. All this talk of sex is making me horny as hell. I rock my hips against his, pressing down on his hardening cock. His arms come up around my back, tugging me closer until our chests touch, our hearts already racing against each other.
Thank God I don’t have any underwear on, because I can feel the heat of his cock pressing against my flesh through the thin material of his boxers.
“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re wet already.”
I shrug, kissing my way to his ear. “What do you expect? I’ve been imagining riding you like a racehorse.”
He chuckles in my ears and pulls down on my hips, pushing my clit against his hardness.