Well, this was as good a time as any, right?
“Okay,” I said, moving away from the wall and walking toward him, my hands going to his button and zip, then starting to lower myself down.
I didn’t expect the exasperated sigh to escape Rook. Or for him to reach for both my hands, stopping them from undoing his pants, then pulling me back up to my feet.
“Listen,” he said, turning me so my back was to his chest, then anchoring me with an arm around my belly. “When I touch you,” he went on, his hand sliding up my thigh, making my breath catch, “I am not doing it because I am expecting anything from you. I’m doing it because I like touching you.” His fingers pressed between my legs, making my head fall back against him, a low whimper escaping me.
Rook’s fingers did a little circle against my clit through my pants. “There’s no scoreboard. No one is keeping a tally.” His fingers kept working me as he spoke, making it almost impossible to focus on his words as the need in me grew. “And while I would love it if you touched me, I want it to be out of a genuine desire to do it,notout of some sick sense of obligation.”
His fingers grew more frantic, demanding, driving me up so effortlessly.
“And until I’m sure that’s what’s happening,” Rook went on, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to my temple as I whimpered and rocked against his touch, “I’m happy to just keep doing this.” His fingers pressed a little harder, making the orgasm surge through me, making me cry out as my legs went shaky.
His hand slid out from between my thighs, reaching out to hit the elevator button again. The other stayed around me, holding onto me as I slowly came down from the orgasm.
Did I maybe allow myself one extra moment of enjoying the closeness, of the strength of him against me? Yeah.
But I did force myself to step out of his arms eventually.
Taking his cue from me, Rook moved out from behind me to reach down and pull the door up.
He waved outward, inviting me to pass.
I did.
“Oh, and Tessa?” he called, making me stop mid-stride.
I angled my head back, but didn’t turn, finding myself feeling a little too exposed and vulnerable to look at him right then.
“I’m never going to be pissed off that you have fun with my brothers. First, because I don’t own you. Second, because I trust you. And them. You don’t have to explain yourself. Okay?”
“Okay.”
There was one blissful second where I thought he might let it drop. But then he spoke again.
“Look, I don’t know what happened at your old club. And I’m not asking because it’s not my business if you don’t want to tell me. But I feel like I can say that all that shit that you dealt with there that makes you go all round-eyed and panicked now, that’s not shit you gotta worry about here. With me.”
I wanted so badly to believe him. But it was going to be really hard to shut that little voice in my head up.
“Alright.”
“And babe?” he called when I started to move away again.
“Yeah?”
“Just putting this out there. If youwantto tell me about all that shit, I’m a good listener.”
With that, he retreated into the elevator and pulled the door closed.
The old part of me—so damaged, so used to mind games and harsh consequences for even the most minor of infractions—wanted to think he was being spiteful in walking away, that he was just bullshitting me and was going to go downstairs and get his dick sucked by someone else after making it sound like he was going to wait for me to want to do it.
The newer part of me—the one who was trying so hard to unlearn all those life lessons that no longer served me—decided that he was leaving me alone to give me time to think on his words, to see how much he meant them.
As I slipped into his bed, listening to the party sounds from the floor below, I did genuinely think he was being honest when he said he only wanted me if I was one hundred percent enthusiastic about it.
And the crazy thing was… I suddenly felt that way. I lay there, pussy aching at the very idea of going down on him, of giving him some of the pleasure he’d given me.
That, well, that was new.