Page 105 of Hat Trick

The room is so quiet, I swear I can hear my heart racing.

“You didn’t… when we…” She holds up a rope and glances at me. “In the hotel room?—”

“It’s a preference, not a requirement. I can get off just fine without it. Clearly.”

“What isitexactly?”

“Being in control.” I stand and walk to the dresser so I’m next to her. Being this close feels like I’m about to get into some trouble, and I can’t bring myself to care. “With consent of course.”

“Of course,” she echoes. “How do you… is this something you advertise?”

“No. The last thing I need is someone from the media branding me as a guy who likes to hurt women when that’s not what I do at all.”

“What do you do?”

“Anything. Everything.” I take the rope from her hold and lift my chin in the direction of her hands. “May I?”

“Yes,” she breathes out. “Please.”

The word almost short-circuits my brain when I gently push her palms together. “I said I like control. That means being the one to dictate when a partner touches me. When I touch a partner. When they come.” I use the rope to secure her wrists with a single column knot. It’s a simple knot, one that can be easily released by pulling on the free end of the rope, because I don’t want her to think she can’t escape. “It includes bondage. Eliminating senses like sight and sound. Punishment like spanking if they don’t listen and rewards when they do.” I bend the rope so she has to hold the excess in her grip, and her inhale is sharp. “Everything is with consent, like I said. And safe words.”

“Do you do this your first time with a woman?” Lexi whispers. She turns her wrists to look at the ropes. “How do you know their boundaries?”

“Never the first time, and only after a long conversation. Like I said, I can get off just fine without it. I’ve had a few relationships where I didn’t use any of this because the woman wasn’t comfortable with it, and that’s fine by me.”

“How do you even find out you like this?”

“I’m an athlete. Or, I was. I can’t speak for all guys who play sports, but I think a part of the control factor is written in our DNA. As for learning how I knew I liked it, I, um, did some experimenting.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who…” She trails off, still staring at the rope. “Do the guys know?”

“No. I told you I like to keep private things private. There’s nothing to tell.”

“This is a lot to process.”

“Let me take these off of you.” I reach for the rope, but she yanks her hand back to her chest before I have the chance to release the knot. “Are you okay?”

“I-I…” Lexi bites her bottom lip. “It’s embarrassing.”

“You found my secret stash of sex toys, Lex. I could crawl in a hole and never come out. We’re well past embarrassing.”

“Moment of honesty?”

“Anything. It doesn’t leave this room.”

“I-I’ve always wanted to try something like this.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“A hookup where I give over control. It feels like I’malwaysin control with my job and my personal life. The guys I’ve been with in the past always made me lead the way in the bedroom. They took my independence and sexual forwardness as someone who likes to be in charge, when I?—”

“Didn’t want to be the one with the power?” I finish for her, and the dip of her chin tells me I’m right. “Have you ever used ropes in the bedroom?”

“No,” she whispers.

“Have you ever been restrained with anything? Someone’s tie? The belt of a robe?”

“No.”

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