Page 31 of Plum

“Are you full?” he asks. His voice has an edge to it.

Oh. He must want me to keep going with the mousse. I take another bite, and really swirl my tongue around the spoon. It is good. The chocolate isn’t bitter at all. I hate dark chocolate. Doesn’t seem right to me, chocolate that ain’t sweet.

Adam’s breath is getting quicker. All those muscles are standing out in stark relief. He’s tense, ready.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” Maybe I can move this along. Part of me wants to get this over. The mousse is good, and the chair’s comfortable now that I’ve warmed it to body temperature, but I feel strange. Exposed. And these flashes of heat keep rolling through me. Sweat has broken out behind my knees.

“I want you to relax.”

“Not possible.” Again. It’s out of my mouth before I think better of it.

“I know what you mean.”

He does?

“I’m so scared you’ll change your mind.”

“I—” What is he talking about?

“I’m afraid you’re going to hide even further behind that mask, or maybe figure out you can just go and take everything I want with you.”

“You paid.” I ain’t gonna rip off the dude with the penthouse that overlooks Riverfront Park.

“Not for what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“For you to want this. As much as I do.”

I shove a spoonful of mousse in my mouth just to buy time. I don’t know what to say. My brain is screamingbullshit, but my belly’s all flipping and fizzing, in a good way, I think. And between my legs, I’m swollen. My panties are soaking. If my tits weren’t hidden behind my knees, he’d see my nipples are hard.

I don’t like this. I don’t know what to do with this.

“Do you feel it, too?” His eyes search mine. The words form in my head.Yeah, baby. I feel it, too. I want you so bad it hurts. Make me feel better, baby. Please.

I’ve got the words, but they don’t come out of my mouth.

Instead, I say, “I don’t understand what’s going on.” My voice is breathy. Almost a whine.

“Do you trust me?”

I blink. Shake my head, left to right. No. I don’t. I’d be a fool to.

He turns his head, stares at something out the windows. His jaw is tight. It looks like he’s thinking.

Then his eyes are back on me, burning blue, the glare on his glasses doing nothing to hide the intensity.

“Willyou trust me?”

Doyou?Willyou? My brain can’t tease out much of a difference, but it’s fuzzy from the sugar, and my body’s going haywire, which is a hell of a distraction.

Adam’s eyes on me…it’s causin’ a reaction. The heat and prickles have been joined by an aching and a need to move. This dress is too tight across my tits, and my legs want to stretch. I want to sprawl, and I want him to watch.

I’m never like this. I like sex as much as the next girl, and I ain’t never made work unpleasant that didn’t need to be. Still. Most of the time I need to rev myself up. Picture a movie star and touch myself. Most dude’s like to watch, so it’s a win-win.

In this chair, though, I can’t think of anyone else but the man lounging in front of me. I’m above him, but it don’t feel as if he’s beneath me. Not at all. It’s like I’ve got a tamed lion at my feet.

“Trust me to touch you.” His body’s coiled even tighter. I guess I was takin’ a long time to answer.

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