Page 90 of Roulette Rodeo
"What?"
"Not the clients. Not the performances or the groping or the propositions. The hardest part was that I started to believe I'd never get to choose. That I'd die in that place, still holding onto a promise that didn't matter because there'd never be anyone I wanted to give it to."
"And now?"
She looks at me for a long moment, those garnet eyes seeing straight through to parts of me I thought I'd buried in desert sand.
"Now I'm in a bathtub with a man who's worried about my circulation issues and lets me steal his dog and can't tell nail polish colors apart but picks the sparkly one anyway."
"Is that good?" I decided to ask, trying not to smirk at the whole nail polish thing.
"That's..." She pauses, seeming to search for words. "That's the first time in three years I've remembered that I get to want things. Not just survive, endure, or perform, but actually want."
"What do you want?" The question comes out rougher than intended, heavy with my own wanting.
She bites her lip, and I track the movement like a sniper tracking a target.
"Right now?"
"Start there."
"Right now, I want to stay in this tub until we're both pruney. I want to paint my toenails sparkly red. I want to eat something that isn't casino buffet leftovers. I want to sleep in a bed that doesn't smell like industrial laundry detergent." She pauses, taking a shaky breath. "And I want to kiss you without it being about survival or strategy or putting on a show."
"Red—"
"I know it's fast. I know we barely know each other. I know there's pack dynamics and history and a thousand reasons why this is complicated. But I've spent three years not wanting anything because wanting hurt too much. And now I'm here, and you're here, and I want to want again. Even if it's messy. Especially if it's messy."
I study her face, looking for any sign of uncertainty or pressure or the kind of desperate gratitude that would make thiswrong. But all I see is determination and desire and a spark that three years of hell couldn't extinguish.
"You sure?" I ask.
"No," she admits with a small laugh. "But I'm tired of being sure. Sure is safe and boring, and I've had enough of both."
I bring my hand up slowly, telegraphing the movement, giving her time to change her mind. Water runs off my arm as I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone.
"For what it's worth," I murmur, "I want to kiss you too. Have since you left those fucking panties in the storage closet like a calling card."
She grins, the expression wicked and sweet at once.
"They were my favorite. You best cherish them.”
I chuckle dangerously, wondering if I’m going to start collecting her undies like little trophies.
Collecting and buying her new ones.
"Can you keep another secret?" she asks finally, her voice small.
I don't mind looking down at her as she lifts her head, those garnet eyes meeting mine with something between hope and fear. We're so close I can see every fleck of gold, every shift of emotion across her face.
"Of course."
She takes a breath, and I watch her gather courage like armor.
When she speaks, the words come out in a whisper that changes everything:
"Would it be odd to ask for you to be the one to take my virginity?"
My cock throbs hard, painful against my attempts at control. I keep my face blank through sheer force of will, but inside, every alpha instinct is roaring to life. The words replay in my mind,each repetition sending another jolt of pure need through my system.
