Page 104 of The Faking Game

The rest of it, though… maybe I can help her with that.

“You liked it,” I repeat. “Is that what you want, then? To practice all the things that might happen after a date?”

“Yes. Maybe.” Her words are rushed. “If you’re interested, or even attracted to me. I know you’re probably used to women who are experienced and who don’t need to go slow, but?—”

“Sweetheart.” My thumb smooths over her cheek. “You’ve told me that it stresses you out, when a guy wants you early on, right? Do you want us to pretend that I don’t, or do you want me to be crystal clear about it?”

She blinks quickly, eyelashes long and wet. “Really?”

“Really. I already told you, I’m selfish. Don’t think that you’re asking me for a favor here.”

“I won’t be good at it,” she says. “There’s a real chance I’m going to be terrible at all of it. Whatever we practice. Like I have been so?—”

“No. Don’t finish that thought.”

She smiles a little. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Why do you expect yourself to be great at something you’ve never tried before? What kind of unreasonable standard is that?” I want to fit her against me, pull her into my lap. “Don’t worry about that for a second with me. Can you promise me that?”

“Okay. Yeah. I think… I can do that.”

“Good. I’m not judging you. I’m not keeping a scorecard.”

Her lips curve, and the look sends relief flooding through me. “What kind of teacher are you?”

“One who doesn’t believe in grades.” My thumb moves down over her lower lip. Every muscle in my body is locked down tight, and the want that rolls through me is so strong it knocks the wind out of me. “We’ll practice more. At your pace.”

“Thank you,” she breathes, like I’ve bestowed a favor on her. Like I’m not the one who will be begging, and burning, and sinning. “I’m sorry I lied to you about it.”

“I understand why you did.” I’m closer to her now, close enough to see the goose bumps along her arms. “You’ve been so brave.”

Her lips part on a soft sigh. She likes it when I praise her.

I’d suspected, but I asked her tonight, because I had to hear her say it. Wanted to gauge her response. Not every woman wants to be spoken to that way.

Even if I ache to tell her just how sweet she’s being. To use that vibrator between her legs and tell her to be good for me, tell me what she’s feeling. To let her see just how hard she makes me.

I’d told her I didn’t like BDSM, and I don’t. But there’s a dominant aspect to praise that I do like. Always have.

Slow,I remind myself. Andhell.That’s where I’m heading.

“I like it. When you praise me,” she whispers. “I meant to tell you that earlier at dinner. But I didn’t.”

“Mhm? You do?”

She nods a little. Eager, wide-eyed. “Yes. It helps me relax. Not think so much about whether I’m doing things right or wrong. Because you tell me.”

“I’m going to keep doing it. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” Her breath is warm against my thumb. “Very much.”

“That’s my girl. I want you to talk to me, just like that. Can you do that for me?”

“Like what?”

“Honestly. If I’m going to touch you…. if you’ll touch me… We have to talk.” I tip her head up. “No more lies.”

“I promise.”

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