“Oh, wow, that’s hard. Do you ever miss her?”
“No,” I answer. “She was my first girlfriend. I attached myself to her for all the wrong reasons. It was better off this way. I believe she’s engaged again.”
“You seem so cold about it. You really don’t miss her?”
Not sure what kind of answers Lilly is fishing around for, I turn my head and look her in the eyes as I say, “I don’t. We weren’t a good match if you take into consideration her goals . . . and my desires.”
“Oh.” Lilly smiles awkwardly. “I can understand that. Not being sexually matched can be a real downfall.” She pulls her legs in tight. “Okay, your turn to ask me a question. Make it a good one.”
A good one?
Well, I have a good one, but I’m not sure I should ask it.
But, fuck, it’s eating away at me. Every time I see her, I want to know the answer. I want to talk about it.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. Fuck it. “When you went to the sex club, what was your favorite thing about it?”
A slow smile spreads across her lips. “Mmm, good question.” She places her hand on my stomach. It hollows out from her touch, but knowing enough about Lilly at this point, I know she’s not touching me in a sexual way, it’s just the way she communicates. “Well, there were quite a few things I liked about it. Mainly, I liked watching the kind of control the men had over the women. But it was never in a bad way, it was as if the women were the most important thing in their lives, and they were treating them like that. Cherishing them.”
“As it should be,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her fingers dance along my shirt, causing my heartbeat to pick up. “I liked watching how possessive the man was when he touched his woman, like every stroke was the first stroke. And there was something so sexy, so fascinating to me when the woman would give in and let the man lead her. The trust between them, it was beautiful.” She moves her fingers over my shirt. “Is that what you like about that side of the sexual experience?”
“Is that your last question?”
“I guess so.”
“Then, yes. I was born a protector; it’s in my blood. When a woman puts her trust in my hands, I’ll never break that trust, I’ll hold it close to me and cherish it. That goes for inside the bedroom and outside of the bedroom.”
“God, you’re getting me all hot.” She chuckles. “Urgh.” She lies down next to me. Shoulder to shoulder. “And once again, I can’t use my vibrator.”
“If you need privacy—”
“No, that would be weird. You going downstairs while I get off? No, thank you.”
“The offer is there.”
“Appreciated, but I won’t be taking you up on it. Okay, ask your final question.”
Her arm rubs against mine, causing the hairs on my forearm to rise, my mouth to dry, and my fingers to tingle. My body reacts to her in a way I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. Being near her like this, it’s almost like this animal deep within me is clawing, begging, pleading to be let out of its cage, and every little touch she makes only drives that desire to more palpable levels.
When I don’t answer right away, she turns on her side and props her head up on her hand. “Come on, you have to have one more question in there. Something that’s been on your mind.”
Yeah.
There is something.
Something that’s been driving me nuts ever since she announced it during training.
“Your clit piercing. Why did you get it?”
From the corner of my eye, I watch her smile as she says, “After a few sexual experiences that fell completely flat, I wanted something that would help me climax better, something that was just for me. I didn’t want to have to rely on a man to make me come. And with a clit piercing, the sensation is more intense.”
“What was the man doing that he couldn’t get you off?”
“All the wrong things.” She stretches her hand out and traces my collarbone. “You know how the simplest touch in the right spot can get you high on that feeling of ecstasy?”
“Yes,” I answer drunkenly as I allow her to drag her finger along my shirt.
“With the right person, that’s all it takes, just a touch, here.” She moves her finger over my pec. “Or here.” Her finger caresses my abs. “Or . . . here . . .” She moves down to the waistband of my pants, and that’s when I grip her wrist, stilling her.