Page 47 of Cross Check Hearts

The blush on her face turns bright red and she falls back against the back of the booth. Her tongue darts out to wet her lip, but she doesn’t answer the question, so I decide to switch it up.

“Okay. Why don’t you tell me one of your dirtiest fantasies instead?” I hold her gaze steadily, noticing the way her pupils dilate a bit in response to my words.

Somehow, her cheeks have turned even redder. Judging from the way she squirms in her seat, I can tell these questions are doing something to her—and knowing the effect I’m having on her makes heat flood my veins.

I rest my elbows on the table and lean forward. “Come on, hummingbird. You can tell me.”

My voice is gentle, but I can’t hide the rasp in it.

Hannah casts a nervous glance around the bar, but there’s no one in the room at the moment, not even the bartender. Still, she pushes up out of the booth slightly to check, and when she’s sure no one’s around, she lowers back down into her seat and gives me a look that’s somewhere between embarrassed and turned on.

“I have this thing about wanting to—never mind.”

She cuts herself off with a sigh and looks away from me, clearly feeling a bit awkward. I reach out and drag the tip of my finger across the back of her hand.

“Keep going. Please. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” I trace a slow, deliberate pattern across her skin, both a reassurance and a promise.

Hannah visibly shivers, goosebumps scattering across her skin. Then she swallows and looks up to meet my gaze.

“I have this fantasy about being fucked roughly,” she whispers, and my cock instantly stirs to life in my pants. She looks like she has more she wants to say, but she bites her lip again like she’s unsure if she should, so I keep stroking her hand with my finger to encourage her.

“What would that look like?” I ask. My voice is like gravel by now, my throat tight with desire.

“I want a guy to pull my hair, to grip my throat, to spank me. To just totally own my body.”

Fuck, this woman drives me insane without even trying.

My cock is so hard now that it almost hurts, and my mind is full of flashing images of me doing just that. Pulling her hair while I pound her from behind, putting her over my knee to spank her perfect, toned ass until it’s red and marked by my handprint. Or gripping her by the throat while she’s splayed out beneath me, her legs wrapped around my waist. I can almost feel her pulse hammering against my palm, see her eyes dilate with that perfect mixture of adrenaline and arousal.

“It’s not just about the physical sensations,” she continues, gaining courage from my obvious interest. “It’s about the surrender. The freedom that comes with giving control to someone you trust completely.” Her words are tentative but honest, and they strike something profound in me.

“The paradox of submission,” I say quietly. “Finding freedom through surrender.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Yes, exactly. Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” I tell her, my voice low.

It’s intoxicating to think about—just like her—and as our gazes lock across the table, the thread between us feels so fucking tight that it could snap at any second. And the little person I imagine dancing on that tightrope feels like they’re dangerously close to plummeting right off.

I swallow hard. “What else would you want, hummingbird? Tell me more.”

Hannah’s pupils are blown out, darkening her blue and green eyes, but she laughs breathlessly as she shakes her head. “Not so fast. You’ve already asked two questions. It’s my turn.”

I can’t tell if she’s intentionally being bratty by teasing me like this or if that’s just a bonus, but either way, I fucking love it. I lean back against the booth, a hungry smile playing at my lips as I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re right. Shoot.”

Hannah’s heterochromatic eyes shine in the dim light of the bar as she watches me. “Truth or dare?”

There isn’t an ounce of me that believes it’s safe to go the dare route. “Truth.”

The word comes out like a challenge.

Hannah smirks, the corner of her mouth curving upward. “Good, I was hoping you’d say that. SinceIshared, tell me one ofyourfantasies.”

“My number one fantasy is to be the man doing all of those things to you.”

The words fly out of my mouth before I even have a chance to think about them, and the scarlet that blooms on her face in response makes my cock swell all over again. A rush of heat crawls up my spine at her reaction. I want to touch her, kiss her, feel her, fuckingtakeher right here and now just like she wants, but I have to keep myself in check—at least until we’re alone.

Her heart is pounding so hard I feel it in her pulse as my finger brushes across the underside of her wrist.

---