Page 49 of Nine

“You could maybe…” I can’t even bring myself to say it.

“Pull out?” he questions.

“Yeah.”

Wait! Where did that come from? Did I just give him the okay to enter me bareback? Yup. I did. I’m just so uncontrollably horny that common sense has taken a backseat until further notice. I can’t believe I’m okay with this. He pulls my shorts and panties down. Finally, I come to my senses again. I yank on his good arm. He looks up.

“I never let my clients go raw, ever.”

“I’m not your client,” he says.

“That’s not what I meant. I just—”

He pushes me against the glass and bites my lip. His hands are all over me and I’m all over him.

I stop and push him back. He looks at me.

“I can’t do this,” I say.

“You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

“I want to. It’s just not a good idea to do this with you.”

Trig steps back and looks at me weird.

“This is embarrassing for me. It really is, but if I don’t say something or do something about it, I think I might go crazy.”

Trig crosses his arms and waits. I can’t believe I’m about to say this.

“I feel things for you. Strong things, like deep down in my gut type things. I spent so many years fucking men for money. No strings. No attachments. I was walking around like a zombie, just numb. You show up and all of a sudden, I’m drowning in feelings. I’m cuddling you, kissing you and having orgasms, and shouting out shit that doesn’t even make any sense, given our relationship. It’s been like what? A week? Things like this are not supposed to happen.”

Trig’s face hasn’t even moved. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked either.

“Today I got jealous because a girl was talking to you, and now I’m all ready for you to hit it raw. I don’t know what a normal relationship is, but this can’t be it. This thing we have is twisted. It ain’t right, Trig.”

“Who says?”

“Me.”

“I like you, Nine.” He steps forward. “And if that’s twisted then call me a sick fuck,”

He’s got me backed against the glass again.

“What are we? This thing we do, what is it?”

He gently places his hand over my heart.

“Do you want to put a label on it? Would that make you feel better? Maybe then you could stop making client references toward me.”

“I can’t leave it stagnant. I need to process or delete these thoughts. What. Are. We?” I repeat again.

Trig cocks his head back. He’s calm and collected.

“Do you plan on fucking anybody else while you’re here with me?” he asks.

His hands drop to my waist. I don’t even need to think about it.

“No.”

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