Page 9 of Ctrl Me
He patted my leg.
I cleared my throat as he maneuvered his way out of the garage and across town toward Bigelow Boulevard. “So, about this party?”
“It’s exactly what you probably thought. A bondage party, specifically shibari. You familiar?”
“Yes.” My voice shook. “I’ve never been t—” I caught my breath and shifted in the seat. “I know what it is. Been to some demos in San Fran.”
Gabe’s hand still rested on my thigh. I wanted it higher. Hell, I wanted it wrapped around my cock. Or my wrists. Something.
“It’s a smallish gathering,” he said. “Maybe two dozen people. Private house up near Zelienople. I’d like you to come as my date.”
God, my pulse. I wouldn’t need my cardio workout. “To watch or . . . um . . .”
“Up to you.” He squeezed my leg, his hand still too damn far down. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to tie you up. Badly. But your first time? In public? After we just started dating?” He shook his head. “You have to decide if that’s in your comfort zone. I can’t make that decision for you.”
I exhaled a shuddering breath. It was a fair answer and a kind one. The sign of a good Dom. We hadn’t had a chance to talk boundaries yet. Or safewords. Hell, anything. Technically, we’d been dating less than a day. Of course he wouldn’t force me into anything. The games we played last night? Flirting. Foreplay. Being bound shibari style? I was fucking shaking at the thought. I wanted Gabe’s hands on me. His rope. His control.
In front of other people? I . . . didn’t know. Everything was still so damn new. “If I came and watched, would you still bind someone?”
We stopped at the light near the hockey arena, and Gabe was silent for long enough that I knew the answer before he said it.
“Yeah. I promised I would a month ago. It would be one of the guys I’ve worked with before. No sex—never at the party—and he’s got a master besides. But yes, I’d tie him up.”
He was breathless. Agitated. Much like me.
I didn’t fucking like the hollowness in my heart or in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Gabe binding another person.
“I’d much rather it be you.” The light turned green, and he moved us onto the ramp to Bigelow. He needed both hands for that, though, so his touch vanished.
Up yet another hill we went. I wanted it to be me, too. But . . . “That’s a lot to ask for our second date.” I pushed the words out through a tight throat.
His sigh was long and his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. “I know. That’s why I’m not asking.”
Only he was. Not entirely, since I still had a way out. I’d just have to watch him do to another man what I desperately wanted him to do to me.
“I’m not going to think any less of you if you say no,” Gabe said. “I just . . . want you to be there. With me. None of this has to be kinky.”
“I like kinky.” I pulled the elastic from my hair, then gathered it back into a ponytail and retied it. Too much kink had killed my relationship with Sherri, and Dominik had nearly beaten the desire from me. Gabe controlling me? Tying me up? What if that went horribly wrong too? I flexed my hands, needing something to grip. “I want kinky.”
Gabe remained quiet, but he did squeeze my knee again.
God, I loved his touch. He’d always been a source of calm for me at work, an anchor when I first moved here. I liked and trusted him, which was probably why I was falling so damn hard, so fast.
But a scene? At a party? I looked out the window and caught my own reflection staring back. And man, I was terrified. “I’ve never scened in public.”
“Oh,” Gabe said. “Wow. Um . . .”
“Shit?” I suggested.
He burst out laughing. A moment later I joined in, and that broke the tension between us.
“Yeah. Shit. Dude. I can’t ask you—”
That was all it took, that consideration, the worry on his part. I trusted that, trustedhim. “I’ll do it.”
And fuck if I didn’t make Gabe squeak. “What?”
“You said it’s a demo, right? Well . . . can’t get any more green than me.”
