Page 51 of Eternal Hoptimist

I laughed into his mussed hair and dragged my fingertips in rhythmic passes across his arm as the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence.

Since he was sharing, I wanted to reciprocate. “I loved watching your body react.” I hummed low in my throat, and Parker squeezed me tightly. “When you told me to fuck your face,god, I nearly came on the spot.”

As he chuckled, his exhales brushed my bare chest. “I noticed you kind of get off on turning me on. Is there a name for that?”

“Other than caring about your partner’s experience?”

His smile tickled my chest. “Yeah.”

“I consider myself a service top. Did you come across that in your research?” I dropped my voice when I said the word research.

Parker groaned. “You’re such a tease. I think I did read about it. What does it mean for you?”

He learned quickly. Already understanding there were spectrums to labels in the kink world as with gender and sexuality.

“I get off on giving pleasure to whoever I’m with. I usually prefer to top, but not exclusively. Sometimes what turns my partner on most is them taking control or having me do what I’m told. Sometimes the best pleasure comes from figuring out what makes a person tick. I don’t consider myself a Dom, though. Making my partners happy makes me happy.”

I hadn’t planned to tell Parker about my chosen label as a service top because this part of our deal was about him, not me. Though, I noticed that if Parker knew I enjoyed myself, he seemed more relaxed. If he knew I legitimately got off on pleasuring him, he might open up even more, which would bring me more pleasure in an endless, delicious loop.

“I’ve got lots of ideas on what we can try next.”

“We can do this again?” He sounded hopeful.

I admired his long body sprawled across my smaller frame and gave myself a moment to acknowledge the rightness settling around us. “Of course. I didn’t expect this to be one and done. I’ve already told you this is a course, not an afternoon seminar.” I couldn’t read his mind, but if it made him more confident, I would keep going. “This was the best sex I’ve had in a long time. As long as I can remember, actually,” I admitted.

“Even though it was just blowjobs?”

“There’s nojustwith blowjobs unless they’re half-assed. Sex is sex. Any act can be as incredible or lackluster as we make it.” I wondered if he thought sex only counted with penetration. I’d had partners across the gender spectrum with that perspective. Heteronormativity was a bitch. Before understanding my queerness, I’d thought I was only attracted to women—and bought into the bullshit of a penis in a vagina meant “sex” and the only thing that counted toward “losing virginity.” I’d since considerably broadened my definition of sex.

“I’ve had exes who didn’t count anything unless there was a dick in someone’s ass,” he said.

“That’s the beauty of kink. So much of this doesn’t need to involve genitals at all and is still pleasurable. But for the record, I consider what we’ve been doing as sex.”

“Good, me too.”

In my past relationships, kink didn’t always translate to solid communication in or out of the bedroom. With Parker, the talking came naturally. Probably because it was fake. I wasn’t lying there overanalyzing how it went, how I thought he felt, what I could do better next time, what I could do to keep him around, how I could contort myself to make him happy and want to keep me. I simply had fun, enjoyed his company, and tried to make him come hard.

There were no stakes, no pressures, no setting myself up for disappointment. Parker would soon meet my family, for Christ's sake, and I wasn’t even thinking about how to lock him down. Instead, I worried more about how I would pretend to my family that I wasn’t absolutely gone for my lawyer friend who volunteered to come home with me out of the goodness of his heart. The last thing I wanted was for my family—who already labeled me a fuckup, or at least an outcast—to see me pining over someone who wouldn’t return my feelings.Even if I allowed myself to think Parker returned them, I promised him space to focus on kink without strings. A promise I would honor.

CHAPTER 19

PARKER

Hector:Did you know the windiest city in the U.S. is in Kansas?

Hector:There’s a grasshopper church. Like, they’re mixed into the foundation because there was a grasshopper plague. Do you think that means grasshoppers haunt the church?

Hector:There are over 500 caves. So, like, stay away from them because your sense of direction is shit

Hector:If you see some cute ruby red slippers, buy me a pair? I’m already planning next year’s Halloween costume and I’d make a hot Dorothy

Hector:Am I looking for Kansas fun facts during this staff meeting while you’re on a plane? Yes. Yes, I am. It’s boring AF

* * *

As the city council meeting broke up, I leaned over to Ethan. “Do you mind if I step out in the hallway for a few minutes to touch base with Hector?”

Ethan briefly squeezed my arm. I couldn’t get enough of how tactile he was. “Do whatever you need to. I’ll stick with Rosie and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.” Ethan grinned.

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