Page 90 of His Secret

“Who’sthey?” I ask with a grin.

“You know. Media.”

He rubs more of the sunscreen onto my arms.

“I don’t haverelationshipsso to speak. My sex life usually consists of people in the lifestyle. I prefer to be in control. There are rules set in place, so everyone knows what they’re getting into at the start. It’s sex. That’s it.”

His eyes meet mine. “When did you start that?”

“A couple years after college. I met a guy who was a Dominant. I was intrigued and learned quite a bit.”

“When you saymet.”

“I had sex with him. Yes.”

He nods, but there’s a hurt expression on his face. He doesn’t have the right to be mad or jealous, but I understand it. It’s the same way I feel when I think about him being married.

“So, no regular vanilla relation—sexual experiences?”

“Sure, I’ve had them.”

“But you prefer it the other way.”

It’s not a question. It’s like he already knows.

“Yes. It helps me keep emotions from getting involved. I hardly have repeats. If I do, we’re both aware it’s for the experience, not because we’re in love.”

“And the guy that called?” he asks, stepping back when he’s done covering me in the sunscreen.

“Christian.”

“Let’s not give him a name,” he says with a nose scrunch.

“Take off your shirt and turn around,” I tell him, grabbing the lotion to put on his back. “What about him?”

“No feelings?”

“Not on my end.”

“But he has them?”

“I think so, yes.”

He goes quiet while I cover his body.

“I know I don’t have a right to ask what I’m about to ask, but I’m curious.” I lift a brow. “If I…if we do the things you’re used to. Would that keep you from wanting to do it with anyone else?”

I stare at him, a cocktail of emotions swirling inside me. There are so many things I want to say, and they’re all on the tip of my tongue, ready to leap off. But I say something completely different.

“Are you asking me not to sleep with anyone else?”

He runs his hands through his hair. “I know I don’t have that right.”

“You’re right. You don’t. Just like I can’t ask you to not sleep with your wife. You likely will, right?”

“Matías,” he says softly.

“Let’s not discuss this,” I say. “It’s not gonna help anything.”

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