Page 15 of My First Mistake
He discards the tea like it’s offended him and then fixes me with a stare that makes goose bumps break out all over my skin, and I’m not entirely certain I don’t like it. “Who did I remind you of and why?”
Okay, well now he’s not so calm and composed. I guess a lack of coffee and jokes he’s not in on are the things that push his buttons. I take a mental note and store it away for future reference. “Darcy, my friend from college. She hates ginger too.” I snort a laugh this time, which is very inappropriate given the reason for her hatred of the delicious spice. But Darcy laughsabout it now too. In fact, we laughed about it together just a few months ago.
He folds his thick forearms across his muscular chest. “Care to elaborate?”
I shouldn’t, but Darcy won’t care and they’re never likely to meet, so why the hell not? “So, she spent a few semesters as someone’s sub.”
He looks even more confused. “Like a substitute teacher?”
“No, Chase. A sub, like a submissive. The guy she was with was a dom.”
“Okay,” he says, interest clearly piqued as he takes a seat on the stool behind him.
“She enjoyed being a bratty sub and she was really into his punishments, but this one time…” I snort another giggle, an incredibly unsexy one at that. “He punished her with ginger.”
The look of absolute bewilderment on his face is almost adorable. “Ginger?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of ginger-figging?” I ask with an exaggerated gasp. Even though I’m pretty sure I’m one of a select group of people in this world who does know what that term means.
“Ginger what-now?” Everything about him, his tone and the look on his face is priceless, and it is deliciously satisfying to see the great Chase Hunter so perplexed.
“It’s where…” I can’t speak, creased with laughter now and tears rolling down my cheeks. Poor Darcy. “It’s where a piece of ginger is…” I take a second to compose myself, sucking in a few deep breaths through my nose. “Inserted.” I make a pushing motion with my index finger. “Somewhere that would burn. You know what I mean?”
Chase’s mouth is hanging open and he’s staring at me like I’m growing an extra head before his eyes.
“Chase, come on! Don’t make me say it. Raw ginger would burn, right? And it was a sexual punishment. It’s often coupled with spanking.”
He stares at me, and then… “So, this guy shoved a piece of ginger up her ass!”
Finally, he gets it! I nod, lips pressed together, before I start laughing again.
His face is twisted in horror. “Surely, that would sting like a motherfucker?”
“Well, it’s a punishment, so that’s kind of the idea.”
He shudders. “Why the fuck would he do that to her?”
“It was all consensual. Like I said, she was his submissive. They were actually very cute together, but after that, she couldn’t even bear the smell of ginger.” I clap a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing again.
“Fuck!” he mutters. “How long did she have to…”—he looks like he’s searching for the appropriate term—“...endure the ginger for?”
“Only a little while. She said the burning didn’t last more than half an hour, but while it did, it felt like she was sitting on a spike made offire from the devil’s own secret level of hell. And then afterward he made her feel better by…” I close my eyes and take a breath as more laughter tries to bubble its way out of me. “Let’s just say it involved a snow cone and leave it there, okay?”
He nods. “Probably for the best.”
“So…” I need to redirect this conversation away from BDSM punishments and the sex that inevitably follows, at least in Darcy’s ginger-figging experience, and to a much safer topic. “Clearly, we need to furnish our pantry. There’s a store a few miles along the highway.”
He raises a brow. “You mean your carefully curated box of essentials isn’t going to cut it?”
“Well, it would have been perfectly acceptable for me, but now you’re here, and apparently you need coffee, so…” I shrug. I will never, not even under pain of death, admit he was right about my abhorrent lack of planning.
“Coffee, yes. And some actual food.”
“Sounds good.”
“And some ginger, of course. You never know when it might come in handy. Especially now I know how kinky you are.” He winks and it does something to my insides that makes my legs want to wobble. And yeah, I know exactly what that’s about but I’m not going to pay it any mind.
“I am not kinky,” I whisper.
