Page 17 of T is for…

“Oh…kay. New information.” She stopped, thinking it through. Sex was never a given in BDSM.

“Change your mind?”

“No,” she said slowly, because her primary emotion was excitement. She would have been disappointed if all they had was impact play. “I don’t think so.”

“Good.” Slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away, Nathan slid his hand under the crook of her knee.

And then Nathan did something that caused a seismic shift, the very foundations of the earth sliding and rocking against one another to reform the world as she knew it. He jerked her knee up, putting a more acute bend in her limb, and then gently forced her knee wide.

Tara took slow breaths, her toes digging into the cushion as she let her leg fall open. One side of her robe—the side he’d flipped up—fell away, exposing her all the way to her belly button, where the tie of the robe held the fabric closed. The glossy black latex gusset that covered her sex was exposed.

He pressed against the inside of her knee, forcing her thigh to spread wider. She felt her pussy lips part, and sucked in air as latex slid and rubbed against her sensitive labia.

His hand spanned her thigh, fingers spread. Experimentally, she tried to close her leg, and watched as the muscles in his forearm flexed as he countered the pressure.

“If we do this,” Nathan rumbled, “I’m not going to hold back, and no matter how hard we compartmentalize, it will change something between us.”

The intensity radiating off Nathan wasn’t new. He was generally mild-mannered and easygoing, but when he was focused in on something, he got like this.

The idea of being what, who, he focused on was thrilling.

“I’m respecting the fact that you don’t want to talk about why you’re leaving Las Palmas. But the fact that you won’t tell me makes me worry that our friendship is already in danger, should we risk destroying it completely?” The question was more a rumination than an actual inquiry.

“Our friendship isn’t in danger.” She sounded breathy, in a way that wasn’t like her. The desire and arousal building inside her crowded her lungs, leaving her no choice but to take small, quick breaths. “It will just look different. We’ve remained friends through a lot of things.”

“True.” His gaze drifted to her lips.

Tara tucked in her lower lip, wetting it with her tongue. Nathan inhaled sharply through his nose.

“I want you to agree to something,” he said.

“What?”

“When we’re done with our letter, and have finished the game, you tell me what’s going on with you. What’s about to change.”

She nodded. “That’s fair. And I know it’s going to sound like I’m backtracking, but I was planning to ask you for help with one part of it.”

“Okay.” He kneaded her thigh. “I’m going to manfully not beg you to tell me because I’m dying of curiosity.”

She laughed softly.

His hand tightened, a soft warning. “There’s one more thing I want to check before we do this.”

Tara held her breath, wondering, hoping, that his hand might cup her pussy through the lace. That what he wanted to check was if she was aroused. She was, and was sure he’d be able to feel how wet she was even through the lace.

“I’m going to put my hands on the seat and keep them there.” His gaze tracked up to her eyes. “And you’re going to kiss me.”

The idea made her insides sparkle, as if she were filled with champagne. The hand that had been pressing against her back fell away, and he wedged between his hip and the corner of the couch. Then he removed the hand from her thigh, the loss of heat creating a cold imprint of his palm and fingers.

Tara sat up, twisting, but the position was awkward. Taking a risk, she slid off his lap, turned to face him, and straddled his thighs, one hand braced on the back of the couch beside his shoulder.

Nathan was taking slow, deep breaths and he looked her up and down. The robe was still tied, but the front pieces no longer overlapped, revealing a strip from neck to pussy that showed glimpses of the black latex, vinyl, and lace fetware she wore.

Tara leaned down, lips hovering over his, as she slid her free hand into his hair. This moment had a dreamlike quality. It felt like she’d stepped outside reality and into a place where there was no tomorrow to worry about.

Only now.

Only him.

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