Page 26 of Obey

“Sorry.” My voice is barely a whisper. The place is otherwise empty, I don’t have to be quiet, but something about lying in a kinky s-e-x basement with a stranger makes me keep my voice down.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up inside me. This is how people end up on the news. He joked about my cold, dead body being found tomorrow, but didn’t specify whether it was from the cold, or the fact that he’s a murderer.

My parents are going to be so distracted by the fact I slept in the same bed as a potential killer they will forget all about the fact I shaved my head, and left their beloved Harry.

Misdirection. It’s a solid plan.

“For fuck’s sake.” Jagger’s solid hand grips my hip in a bid to still me but it makes me wriggle more. “Should have let you freeze.”

“When will it go down?” I’m glad he can’t see the color of my face right now, but the heat radiating from my cheeks could probably heat the room just fine.

“What?” His gruff voice makes me smile. Is he always grumpy like this? Or is it something I have a talent of bringing out in him?

I wiggle my hips again, drawing a low groan from him, the noise lighting up my nerves in the darkness. His breath on my skin, his hand on my hip, his voice in my ear, the smell of the forest tickling my nose. It’s like a party for my senses.

“That.” I can’t say it out loud.

He sighs. “How do you expect to tackle number three on your list if you can’t even say cock?”

It’s like the last word is a switch, and my body is a dormant Christmas tree. The sensation between my thighs takes my breath away.

#3 Talk dirty between the sheets.

Even the thought of saying that word he just said, out loud, makes my whole body shrivel up. It’s crass. Dirty. Offensive. And not something a girl like me should say.

My parent’s words assault my mind as Jagger’s thumb glides back and forth on the sliver of skin where my shirt has ridden up.

“Whoever told you whatever it is making you tense up like this over the word ‘cock’ is wrong. Why give words so much power over you anyway?”

He has a point, but I still can’t say it. I’m not sure I ever could.

“Th-this list was born from a voracious appetite for reading.”

He snorts, making my hair move. “Classic literature has the word ‘cock’ in it? Huh. Who knew?”

“I read all sorts.” I dig him with my elbow, a warm satisfaction spreading through me at his soft grunt. “Don’t shame me for what I enjoy.”

“I don’t need to shame you for anything. You do it more than enough for both of us.”

Oof. My body lurches like he punched me in the stomach. He’s not wrong. But I don’t want to unpack that right now.

“Well? That’s not an answer. When does it... uh... deflate? I thought this only happened in the mornings.”

He sighs again. Grabs my hand and puts it square-on his junk. Oh, my. It’s... uh... girthy? Is that the right word?

“What are you doing?” I feel like I should jump out of bed, get on my knees, and say a million apology prayers to God for the fact I’m touching this man’s penis. But if I get on my knees in front of Jagger, only God knows what he’d do with his penis.

“This isn’t morning wood, it’s not evening wood, it’s pure, unadulterated attraction, Talia. When a beautiful woman pulls me up against her pert little ass it’s hard to hide the raging boner I’ve had in my pants all fucking night.”

Oh.

You could hear a pin drop in the heavy silence pressing on both of us. My chest rises and falls in the quiet, and I’m focused on filling my lungs with oxygen because if I stop thinking about air circulating in my chest I might think about what his words mean.

He lets go of me and rolls onto his back. “Ugh. Your self-loathing is so fucking loud.” I can’t see what he’s doing, but the sound of friction suggests he’s rubbing his forehead. At least, I sure hope that’s what he’s rubbing.

“Stop making assumptions about me.” I don’t mean to snap, but I’ve had assumptions made about me my whole life. This man doesn’t know me, and yet he’s guessing what’s going through my head.

New Talia made the conscious choice to be curious, and to leave her years of conditioning to be ashamed in the past. It’s not always going to work, it’s going to poke through here and there, but New Talia is exhausted from a lifetime of shame.

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