Page 55 of What if I Told You

August rolls onto his back and pushes his hands through his hair. “Fucking Christ.”

“What?” I ask, propping my head up on my hand. “Why is this the most terrible thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Because I can’t believe you’ve…” He stops himself and takes a quick steadying breath realizing he’s yelling at me again for no reason. With a calmer tone, he rolls back toward me and slips his hand through my hair. He swallows and then softly says to me, “Because you deserve to be pleasured, Ella. And any good man would realize that. Anygoodman would take honest to God pleasure in making you feel good. Anygoodman would have a fervent desire to physically watch you and hear you and…and taste you…as you come.”

Taste me.

Good Lord those words give me goosebumps.

“So how are you different then?”

“What do you mean, how?” He scoffs. “I’m one hundred and eighty degrees of different from anything you’ve ever experienced from what it sounds like.”

“I don’t know about that.” I chuckle. “Sex is pretty cut and dry, August. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s fun and feels incredible most of the time.”

“Most of the time?” He frowns.

“Yeah. Most of the time.” I shrug. “It’s a little heavy petting, in and out, wham bam, and its done.”

His jaw unhinges and his lips part as he stares at me incredulously. His eyes fall to my lips before climbing back up to find my gaze. “Ella, babe,” he says, shaking his head. “Sex is so much more than that. And it should feel fucking fantastic one hundred percent of the time. And if it doesn’t, you’re doing it with the wrong man.”

“Okay then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me what you would do,” I beg him, my eyes darting between his. “Whatdoyou do? What makes it so much more enthralling in your mind than what I’ve experienced before? And what am I doing wrong?”

His brows pinch and he shakes his head. “Whoa. Okay, first of all, Ella, you aren’t doing a damn thing wrong.” His eyes roam my entire face, my neck, and part of my chest as his fingers twine through my hair. “You’re…perfect. Do you hear me? Fucking perfect.”

“But—”

“No.” He shakes his head calmly. “Listen, every guy is different so I can only speak from my own experiences. And you have to understand my hookups are different because there isn’t much emotion to them. It’s always been about the physical acts for me. A way to release the adrenaline. I know you don’t like that answer but it’s the honest truth.”

“I get it. So, if you’re just there to release why do you bother making sure she’s getting pleasured too?”

“Because if she’s not enjoying it, then her body…her…pussy won’t be ready for me and then I won’t enjoy it either. Why waste our time when I can make sure she’s loving every minute of it? Then I can be sure she’s primed so her body can accommodate me.”

“Sounds romantic,” I say deadpanned.

He gives a lopsided grin. “I never said anything about it being romantic. If I was in love with my partner, I might do things differently.”

“Like how? What makes non emotional sex different from emotional sex?”

“Non emotional sex is straight up fucking,” he answers bluntly. “It’s carnal. It’s a lot of touching, it can be rough if both partners agree with that, and it can be fast. It could be the difference between bending a woman over a bathroom sink and fucking her brains out or taking your slow sweet time pleasuring her.”

I’ll take option two for a thousand please, Alex.

“Are you saying you’ve fucked women in bathrooms?”

He nods. “Bathrooms, hotel bedrooms, in a dark alley or my…”

He stops but I know exactly what he was going to say. “Your car.”

“If you want me to say I’m not proud of it, I can’t do that, Ella. Not that I’m particularly proud of the fact I’ve fucked numerous women over the years, but it was just sex. A quick fuck and I walk.”

“Never a relationship?”

“You knew about the last relationship I had and it didn’t last exceptionally long. I just don’t have the time to worry about a girl I can’t be with all the time, but like I said before, if I were with a girl I loved, sex would be different.”

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