Page 6 of The Liar's Reckoning

Tonight, my cock says gay.Definitely gay. I’ve never gotten hard like this for a woman. It’s possible I’m just stunted somehow. Like my sexual awakening was stalled or cowed by fear of what my family, priest, and peers would think.

Am I willing to act on it though? Touch him? Or ask him to touch me?

I don’t know.

“Are you cold?” I ask after a few minutes.

“No.”

His pebbled nipples tell a different story, but I’m sweating, so I’m not sure I want to make it any warmer in here.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question, Graham?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do youwantto touch me?”

“That’s what I’m wondering.”

“I see.”

“Has anybody ever wanted to just stare at you before?” I ask.

He grins. “Not quite like this.”

“Oh, good. Maybe you’ll remember me.”

He laughs quietly. “How’d you picture tonight going?”

I pick up my stack of index cards, flipping through them until I find the one after lie back on chaise.Touch his cock.I glance at the organ between his thighs. It’s not massive, but thicker than average and bigger at rest than mine.

Am I ready to touch it?

“What are those?” Silas asks.

Jesus.What the fuck is wrong with me? I went to Harvard for Christ’s sake, and I have to write my sexual wishlist on index cards I can’t even manage to keep to myself.

I’m so embarrassed, I can’t think. Instead of denying or obfuscating, I stand, walk over to him and hand him the short stack. He reads the same words I just did and pats the space on the cushion between his thighs. “Have a seat,” he says. “I’d like to discuss this.”

I exhale with relief. He’s taking control. I have a feeling a man like Silas knows exactly what I need.

3

SILAS

Graham’s cheeks look hot enough to fry an egg as he sits. The chaise is small, so his arm grazes my knee and inner thigh. “You’re welcome to touch my cock,” I say.

“Maybe,” he whispers.

There’s closeted, and then there’sthis—I’m not sure I’ve ever come acrossthisbefore, and I’m not sure how to play it. I would have bet money he wanted a blow job and maybe a finger in his ass to see how it felt. And who knows? Maybe that’s on the next card.

“You should,” I say, wanting him to.

His gaze overflows with uncertainty.

“Look,” I say, “I won’t bite, and I won’t say no. You know what’s allowed and what isn’t. You know what costs extra. If you’re trying to figure something out, go for it. I’m not gonna judge you or laugh at you. If you have any questions, ask—if you need any help, let me know.”

Graham doesn’t say anything, but his gaze drops to my inner thigh, the one spread open. Without further delay, he brushes the back of his knuckles against the thin, sensitive skin, and I lick my lips when a jolt of sensation pulses through my groin. He repeatsthe motion a few times before he turns his hand over, unfurls his fingers and lets the tips graze the skin in long strokes from my thigh crease to midway down my quad.

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