Page 143 of Ask Me Something

“Sort of, but the rules were like, ‘no sex at my actual house’ or hard limits for sex. Yours were to get you to stay with me.” We went through my front door, and he seemed to be bracing himself for my reaction.

“What else?” I kept my expression neutral.

He hesitated. “I may have used sex a time or two to get my way.”

I smiled. “Oh, I’m quite aware of your methods, Brian Carpenter. But realizing you went to all that trouble to get me to fall in love with you only makes me love you more.” I kicked off my heels while watching him slip out of his shoes.

“I love hearing those words from you. And in the spirit of this Amnesty Monday, you should probably know my dirty little secret: I like hockey more than football.”

“You can’t possibly mean that.” I clutched my chest as though it hurt my heart. Then my hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, impatient to touch him.

“I’m afraid it’s true, but I’ve recently had incentive to pay more attention to football. I need to ask you something about what you told me on Saturday.”

“Ask me anything.” For the first time, I sincerely meant it. There wasn’t a part of me, either good or bad that I didn’t want to share with this man. It was such a relief to be honest about it all.

“Do you really throw up before every pitch?”

My hands held his face. “I do, but please don’t ever ask me if I’m anxious. Think of it as my pre-game ritual before I take the field and get into the zone.” I slid the shirt down his arms and lifted his T-shirt over his head.

His fingers reached around and unzipped my skirt, allowing it to pool at my feet. He paused while unbuttoning my blouse. “Oh, I thought of something else. You should know I have a mild aversion to spiders.”

I helped him with the last button. “I already knew that. Juliette made fun of you one day. Said you screamed like a girl, and she had to get it from your office.”

He lifted me up in his arms and lay me on the bed. “It was humiliating,” he muttered.

I could hardly concentrate when he unfastened my bra and lowered his head, taking a nipple between his teeth. My back arched in response. “Don’t worry, I’ll kill the spiders for you. But since we’re disclosing all, you should know I’m a little tone-deaf. So don’t expect karaoke ever.”

He met my eyes, and I wondered how I could’ve missed the way his adoration was reflected in them. “I love you, Sasha, but I’ve heard you humming along to a song and know without a doubt you are not a little tone-deaf, you are completely tone-deaf.” His fingers hooked in my panties and tugged them down.

I laughed. “Oh, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of high maintenance.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love that you’re high maintenance.”

“Ha, you say that now, but no judging when in a few years I start getting Botox or some kind of Asian mud mask to keep wrinkles at bay.” My hands worked his boxers off while his fingers found my slick entrance.

“You’re already perfect in my eyes. I’m good with whatever you want, although I’m not a fan of you going under the knife. By the way, I tell people I’m allergic to caviar, but really I can’t stand it.”

I gasped when he replaced his fingers with his hardened length, feeding it into me slowly until he filled me completely. “I like ketchup on my tacos.”

He completely froze and looked down into my face. “That is absolutely the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard,” he deadpanned.

Giggling in response, I arched my hips, wanting him to move. “What? It’s made with tomatoes and is practically like salsa.”

He shook his head. “Nice try, but it is so-o-o not like salsa. I think I may have lost my erection, honey.”

“Ha, you definitely did not.” He was hard as ever. “That’s the deal breaker out of everything?” I gripped his muscled backside and welcomed him deeper into me.

He grunted his pleasure and then moved with long, slow strokes. “There is no deal breaker, Sasha. I’m in this for the long run even if that means I will never eat Mexican food with you.”

He sealed his declaration with a scorching kiss, bringing me to orgasm quickly.

“I have a request,” I murmured, coming down off the high of my climax.

“I would expect nothing less, being as high maintenance as you are, but hold that thought for a few minutes.”

Vocalizing my displeasure in him pulling out with a groan, I was pleased he wasn’t done yet. He moved me to the edge of the bed, threw my ankles over his shoulders and took me deep on one stroke. He moved hard and fast, hitting the very end of me. After his orgasm hit, he brought me to another one of my own. Moving us both to the center of the bed, we lay there, panting for breath, naked, and entwined with one another.

“What’s your request?” he asked, snuggling me into him.

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