Page 57 of Sleep

“Well, what are you into? We all have things that turn us on, as well as kinks.”

“I…don’t know.”

I loved that he was shy. It made me brave. Braver than I actually was.

“Do you watch porn?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he mumbled, wringing his hands.

I took them, those soft hands of his, and scooped him up, holding him and rocking gently from side to side. This wasn’t an easy conversation to have. In a club, under strobe lighting and thumping music, words were traded easily and plans were implied. Here, when it was just him and me, my face in his hair, his face in my neck, this gorgeous, gorgeous man, so strong, yet so bloody fragile.

He was mine, I decided there and then. I didn’t care about the penthouse apartment or my distinct lack of funds. I absolutely didn’t care that I was both jobless and homeless because I had this warm feeling in my heart that it wouldn’t matter. That somehow…

“I spoke to my ex-husband today,” I said quietly, hoping he was following where I was taking this.

“Didn’t you tell me something about not bringing up family members when you’re on the cusp of a new relationship?” he berated me gently, his words hitting somewhere near my collarbone.

“I did, and I’m breaking that rule, a one-time-only occurrence, I assure you. My ex-husband, who is a bit of an idiot but can be rather wise, told me I had to jump. And that if I didn’t jump, he would push me. Knowing him, he’d pick me up and throw me off the next cliff he came to, but anyway. He’s annoying because he’s right. I have to jump off a bunch of different cliffs here, but this is one I need to jump off with you.”

“The balcony door is still locked. Not jumping off anything.”

I loved his silliness. The way he made me grin like an idiot.

“There are no set rules here. Let’s just take things slow and steady. We can do whatever we want, but I do have some things I absolutely will not entertain.”

“Same,” he agreed, leaning out of my embrace so he could look at me.

“I get tested regularly. It’s part of one of the therapy groups I run in conjunction with the local sexual assault clinic, where I take everyone to get tested to de-stigmatise the process. But, before you ask, I haven’t been with anyone in the past…almost four years. Not even a kiss. I don’t mess around, I don’t hook up with people, and I certainly don’t engage with strangers on nights out. Not anymore.”

“Good to know,” he said softly. “I hope you won’t judge my past then. I used to pay a lot of money to an escort service to supply me with people to practise with. It never went very well.”

“No judgement here.”

“Thank you.”

“I know I look like I’m a big total bottom and need a big bad top to sort me out, but Jonny, I’m really not, and that has caused all kinds of issues in the past, so I’m just throwing it out here. I don’t bottom. I don’t like it, never have, and that was part of why I cheated on my ex-husband. A lesson learned and a mistake I have no intention of repeating.”

“I’ve…done the top thing,” he stuttered out self-consciously, but he was still looking at me, and his hands were still in mine. “Not ever the other way around. Not really into…let me rephrase that. We’re being truthful here, and I will honour that. I’m too chicken to try the bottoming thing, which leaves us with…a limited menu.”

I had to take a breath. Wow. We were actually pretty good at this communication thing. But there was a time for talk and a time for action, so without further discussion, I dragged him into the bedroom, ripped that stupid T-shirt over his head, then I pushed him onto the bed, smiling as his behind bounced on the mattress.

The bed was still unmade, exactly how we’d left it this morning.

“I’m going to ask again.” I ripped my vest off, dropped my joggers, standing in front of him with everything that I was. Jonny crawled backwards up the bed, his eyes pinned on me. “So you said you’ve watched porn?”

No fear. I didn’t want him to have any of that. But I needed him to tell me where his limits lay. What kind of filth that turned him on, or if he was just as vanilla as his online presence had implied.

Prejudices were rife, even for someone like me.

“Those briefs are…beguiling,” he whispered, his eyes slowly moving down to my crotch, the lace boxers made for people like me, ample in size and shaped for what they were designed to contain. I’d dressed appropriately this time. “You want to know what kind of porn I watch?”

“Yes.” I slowly crawled up the bed, my knees on either side of him.

“Well, nothing too strange. Mostly gay scenes. I like…a certain body type. And I’m a total size queen.”

That was one hell of an admission from the man who was half squirming, half so turned on he didn’t know where to look. The way he was cupping his junk…hell, the sheer sight of him was making my cock swell.

Good grief, Mabel.

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