Page 82 of Obey

To his credit, Jagger barely reacts, but from the way his eyes narrow a tiny bit, he’s not surprised.

“That tracks.”

“And I have it all.” I wave my hand. “Drama, arranged marriage, trauma. Even sex rehab after I slept with Harry.”

He flinches like I smacked him.

“Sorry.”

His hand skims my cheek, brushing my hair back. “No, Half-Pint. We don’t apologize for our past. It’s what makes us who we are today.”

Ugh. How is he so handsome and philosophical at the same time? Some people get all the good stuff.

When we’re done with lunch, he hand washes the dishes, dries them, and puts them away. Learning his kitchen is fun, learning about my guy is even better.

Turns out his father is a mechanic, and he’s wanted to be a mechanic for as long as he can remember. He spent his childhood taking engines apart and fixing up old cars with his dad.

When I’ve finished putting away the clean dishes, and Jagger has wiped down the counters, he smacks my booty with the kitchen cloth. “Wanna watch a movie?”

I guess I thought once we’d eaten, he’d kick me out. “Don’t you have to go back to the shop?”

He winks at me. “Joys of being my own boss. I set my own hours. That, and I have a great team around me. The guys are a well-oiled machine. Excuse the pun.”

Guiding me to the couch, he stays a step behind me. When we’re settled under a blanket, me the little spoon as always, I let myself sink into his arms.

“Have you thought any more about what you’d like to do with your life now that you’re not tied to Harry the Asshole?”

“I think I want to write steamy books. A series about vanilla women who meet sexually more experienced men and fall in love while learning about themselves and what they like.”

“Don’t they say you should write what you know? That feels a bit off the wall.”

His humor is so dry, I’m never really sure if he’s being funny or not. “I mean, I could write about a tiny female dominant who manhandles her giant, grumpasaurus boyfriend.”

“That’d be more true-to-life.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say.”

The vibrations of him laughing as he turns the TV on is a comfort I’m getting used to feeling. There’s something about having his arms around me, his body curled protectively, feeling his body rise and fall as he breathes, that makes me feel safe.

“We’re watching “The Secretary,” it’s part of your kink education.”

I’m sure he had great plans for us to watch the movie, but I wake up to the credits rolling up on the screen, and Jagger stroking my face. “You missed the movie, baby girl. And you snored so loud the neighbors came to complain.”

“I did not.” I bound up from the couch, indignation fueling my stiff and slow movements. I give him a playful shove. “But it was a nice nap. Thank you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if I can stay over. We didn’t actually discuss a date, but I know if I don’t go home tonight, he won’t have sex with me tomorrow. He’ll say I’m too close and didn’t take my time and space to think about it.

So, after the longest make-out session of my life, where we kiss and kiss and kiss some more, I head back home, a swarm of bees buzzing in my gut, to reflect on whether I want to sleep with my super-dom boyfriend tomorrow, or not.

Chapter Twenty-Six

TALIA

I do. I most definitely do want to sleep with my boyfriend today. I’ve been up since four in the morning. I’ve cleaned my house twice, right down to the baseboards. Who cleans their baseboards? Certainly not me, but today I’ve cleaned them, and emptied and cleaned the refrigerator twice.

It’s like Mama’s coming, but worse. The windows are sparkling, the couch is vacuumed, and I even vacuumed the spider-webs from the light fixtures and crown molding. I’ve taken two showers. One before the anxious cleaning, and one after, because while Jagger is totally fine with me being a sweaty hot mess, I’d rather he be the cause of it.

What does one wear to essentially lose her virginity all over again? When I slept with Harry, we were teenagers. I know your hymen doesn’t regrow, but I’m not in any way experienced.

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