Page 76 of Hide and Seek
“That maybe we could change things up a bit,” I clear my throat when my voice cracks embarrassingly on the last word.
“And how would you want to do that?”
The timbre of his voice is low and raspy now, and my dick goes half hard as tingles explode deep inside me.
Jesus H Christ. I’m getting hard just from his voice? I know I’m young and sex-starved, but this is getting crazy.
“I was thinking maybe you could initiate things.” I swallow as my mouth goes dry, and my voice comes out rough, like I’m trying to speak through sandpaper.
“And what would that look like?”
I lick my lips as my words get stuck in my throat. I’m not good at asking for what I want, and I’ve never had a conversation about sex with someone I’m actually having it with.
Gossiping with my friends is one thing, but asking the guy who’s fucking me to switch things up is completely different.
“Tell me what you want, Myles.”
Another of those shivers rips through me. How the hell can he make my name sound so damn sexy? I’ve never been a big fan of my name. It’s mine, and I’ve used it my entire life, but it’s old-fashioned and was a source of a crap ton of bullying and teasing when I was younger. And for some reason, people have a hard time spelling it, so I’m constantly correcting them and double-checking any and all paperwork I get.
But hearing him say my name in that sex-drenched voice is enough to make my half-hard dick impersonate a steel pipe in about two seconds, maybe less.
“Instead of just waiting for me to go for a run at sunset,” I say in that damn breathy voice I can’t seem to get rid of. “Maybe you could start things when you want to.” I swallow when he keeps quiet. “And I won’t know about it until you do.”
The silence that stretches is torture, and I feel my face and neck heating uncomfortably the longer it goes on.
Did I misread the room? Is asking my stalker to switch things up from primal play and CNC to dubcon too far?
“Are you sure you know what you’re asking for?” The warning in his voice is clear, and the anxiety that was bubbling up in my chest dissipates in a rush.
“I’m sure,” I tell him.
I’ve thought about this all week and fantasized about it for way longer than I’ll ever admit to. I want it, and if this is the only time in my life I’ll get to explore that side of myself, then I sure as hell am going to embrace it.
“Challenge accepted.”
The burst of adrenaline that detonates deep in my chest almost takes my breath away, and so does the way my stomach swoops like I’m in a freefall.
“Now do you want to tell me why you’re afraid?”
I blink a few times at the abrupt topic change. “Huh?” I grunt at him with all the eloquence of a caveman.
“When you turned the camera around. You said you needed to talk to someone because you’re afraid,” he reminds me.
“Oh, right.” I huff out a strained laugh. “That.”
He stays quiet, and I pull in a deep breath. It’s not that I’m afraid of telling him. It’s more that I’m afraid of saying it out loud. So far the only people who know what I did are me and two dead men, and the fanciful part of my brain is freaking out and convinced that sharing it with anyone else, even him, will somehow make it more real.
“You said you know about the men who were blackmailing me,” I start, my voice wobbling with nerves. “And you’re part of the reason they’re dead.”
“I did say that.”
“How much do you know about why they were blackmailing me, or what they made me do?”
“I know a fair bit.” His voice is even and unbothered. “Not everything, but probably more than you think I do.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now how about you tell me your side and fill in the blanks for me?”
