Page 12 of Bottle Rocket
“I need to make sure we’re on the same page,” Leo said. A hint of vulnerability flashed through his eyes, and he let her see it. He didn’t hide it. She wanted that openness. Wanted to be able to have that in a partner and show it herself. “I don’t live here,” Leo continued. “I don’t want you to expect—”
“Stop.”
His fingers tightened on her hips.
She swallowed hard and made a face. “I don’t expect you to be my boyfriend, Leo.”
Silence hit her. Then Leo’s shaky breath. “You’re too good for me, Rosie Holiday.”
She glanced at him sharply. “I like when you call me that. My maiden name.”
“Then I’ll keep doing it. I’m a people pleaser.”
“And I want you to please me.”
His expression went a bit feral. “The things I’m into during sex are not exactly run of the mill.”
She smiled. If he was talking about butt stuff, she had news for him—he was not that special. “How so?”
“I like to give up control. Maybe be slapped around a little. Ordered around a lot. Nothing too wild, but some people balk. I’m into group sex too, but that’s neither here nor there.”
She hadn’t been expecting that. Sweat bloomed along her spine. She was suddenly aware she was above him and he was sitting at her feet. She liked it.
And group sex? It would be a big fat lie to claim she’d never thought about it. It would be impossible to not think about it if you were in any way acquainted with Sasha’s boss, Robin Erco, who was notorious for throwing orgies.
Rosie started to open her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. She had so many thoughts clanging around inside her head.
“Be honest, Rosie,” Leo said.
“What if I don’t know how to be what you want me to be?” She wanted to try.
“Oh, no. That’s not what—I want you to be yourself. I want to make you happy. But I also might ask you to step on me. Hypothetically.” She had to bite her lip against a smile. He smiled back, his eyes positively eye-fucking her. “I can be in charge. I can adapt. I’m pretty flexible, for all intents of the word. I was just telling you what I enjoy the most, and I also think you could take control, if you wanted to.”
Summer of Rosie: femdom edition.
“I’m trying new things this summer,” she blurted. “I’m calling it the Summer of Rosie.” Leo’s eyes flared with confusion, so she kept talking before she chickened out. “It’s an attempt at saying ‘no thanks’ less and instead chasing ‘the yes.’ That’s what this podcast I listen to says.”
“I don’t understand.”
She sighed. “Divorce is hard, Leo. It fucked me up, made me feel like a blank slate. I want a hobby. I want to be passionate about something. Damn, anything! I want to put you in your place and have group sex and wear out my vibrator. I’m so tired of being …”
“Being what?”
“Boring.”
He frowned, looking fierce and angry, and she wanted to wipe that scowl off his face with her tits.
“Try again. You are not boring.”
“Scared. I’m tired of being scared. I want to experience life, rather than letting it pass me by.”
“I leave on the fifth of July.”
She had to recalibrate at the change in subject. “Okay.”
“That means we have six days until I leave.”
“Yes.”
