Page 108 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Twenty-Six

Declan

“So… when did you know you were into all that kinky stuff?”

“Kinky stuff?” I asked, taking a gulp of my sparkling water.

Practice started two hours earlier than normal tomorrow morning, so while Sophie knocked back her favorite Irish craft beer, I drank water like a motherfucking granny.

“Well, maybe not kinky, but not exactly vanilla either.” She smirked and her eyes danced with delight.

Yeah, things between us so far had definitely not been vanilla and I hadn’t even done most of the really filthy things I wanted to. Just thinking about it, my dick twitched to attention. Adjusting myself as inconspicuously as possible, I tried to ignore those thoughts since I was trying to be on my best behavior.

I’d taken Sophie to dinner at a really nice restaurant where our team could go without being harassed and now we were sitting in front of the fire at my place, just hanging out while Christmas music played softly in the background.

After settling in, Sophie had asked whether I’d rather eat crickets or snails which had turned into another hilarious round of Would You Rather? which had then morphed into Twenty Questions. Her question about my kink was her third of twenty.

I was happy to sit here playing innocent little games, but what I really wanted to do was carry her to my bedroom and fuck her senseless. But like I said, I was trying to be a gentleman. I would have loved all my remaining time with Sophie to be spent under the covers—or in the shower, in my car, on the kitchen countertop (I had some very specific ideas about her and some chocolate sauce)—but I also understood relationships weren’t built on sex alone. Or so I’d been told. By her grandfather.

Hence all this talking.

“I’m not sure,” I answered.

The truth was, there were some things about my … proclivities, shall we say … I wasn’t comfortable sharing, so I avoided answering at all.

“Hmm,” she murmured, not at all convinced. Peeling the label on her bottle, she continued, “So what you’re saying is the rough stuff isn’t something you’ve always been into?”

How to answer that without freaking her out? This wasn’t like asking someone their favorite food (her: sushi, me: cheeseburgers) or what they thought of the weather (trick question: it was always crap in Ireland).

Maybe I needed a beer after all since this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have sober.

Calling over my shoulder as I made my way to the fridge, I explained, “Ever since I lost my virginity, I liked sex to be … energetic, I guess you could call it. Maybe because I was so young and lads don’t know how to be anything but energetic, but after awhile, I realized I was a little bit intense when it came to sex.”

I remembered listening to my friends talk about their conquests and thinking it sounded … unsatisfying.

When I joined her back on the sofa, I continued, “But to answer your question, no, I didn’t start out liking it rough.” I caught her eyes and held them. “That came later.”

I expected her to ask me when—and how—I’d learned this about myself so I was surprised when she didn’t. I

“I get that. I mean, when you first start out having sex you’re still learning what works for you and what doesn’t. And of course your partner matters too. Something you want to try might not appeal to them and vice versa.”

Was she trying to tell me she wasn’t into it the way I was, that she hadn’t liked what we’d done? I had a hard time buying that since Sophie had been right there with me, giving as good as she got. She was the one who’d demanded I fuck her harder, go deeper. Still, it seemed like there was a subtext here I wasn’t catching.

“Is this one of those times when you say something without using saying what you actually mean and I’m supposed to magically know what you’re talking about?”

“Fuck you!” she answered on a gusty laugh, punching me in the arm.

“Seriously though, I feel like you’re trying to tell me something and I’m too dense to figure it out.”

Sophie scratched at the glue left by the label on her bottle and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Not necessarily. I’m just saying that when you’re with someone you trust, it’s easier to explore your fantasies and if you find something works for both of you … well, that makes it even better.”

When she finally raised her eyes to meet mine, her pupils were dilated, hazy with lust.

Understanding dawned. Sophie had specific desires she wanted to explore and was trying to tell me.

I took the bottle from her hand and set it aside. “Have you always known you like it rough, Sophie?”

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