“This guy, Van Burke, is into BDSM. He has a studio of sorts. I guess he does sex therapy, among other things.” Justin’s brows dipped low over his blue eyes. “He has the whole setup there. Except his playroom is right next to his counseling area,” he finished with a quiet laugh.
The back of her neck tingled, and she bit her lip to hold back the stream of questions. Easy. One at a time. “What did he have to say? Or do?”
Justin looked a little embarrassed himself. He quickly shook his head and tossed back the contents of his glass. “It wasn’t that kind of session. He got that I wasn’t there looking for instruction. It was actually Lola’s idea I visit him to discuss some of my—”
When he faltered, she whisked her tongue over the corner of her mouth under the guise of picking up stray droplets of champagne. “Hangups?” she offered sweetly.
He narrowed his eyes. “Not the word I prefer, but okay. Hangups. Referring to you specifically and your past.” He ran his fingertip along the rim of his glass, and she had to suppress a shiver. She was already imagining those calloused finger pads on her skin. “And mine.”
“And?”
“And he didn’t think staying away from you was the best course of action to take.”
“Well, I could’ve told you that.”
“And you did, I think. Or tried to, before I shut down.” His faint smile eased the flurry of nerves in her stomach. “I told him stuff about me. About us. Intimate stuff. I hope that doesn’t freak you out, but it would have been pointless otherwise.”
She raised a brow. “You voluntarily told him about your sex life? I think I’m amazed.”
He stared at her so intensely that she grabbed the bottle of champagne. Drinking more sounded like a mighty fine idea.
“Yeah, well, I really want to move past this. Hang on,” he said, stilling her wrist as she started to pour. “Maybe save that for later.”
Though it pained her to do so, she corked the bottle. At least she’d gotten a few drops out. “Later, hmm?”
“Yeah. He said I was getting shit all mixed up in my head. Combining things that had no business being combined. You asked me to spank you because you wanted it.”
“Yes.”
“Not just to please me.”
“What’s wrong with wanting to please someone you’re with?” When his probing stare didn’t waver, she sighed and shook her head. “No. More than anything, it pleased me. I need the release sometimes. Not always. I’m not saying I want to buy extra padded chairs for my place or something,” she muttered while he grinned. “Just now and then. It’s fun when it’s with someone you trust. And it hurts, but in a good way. In a way that reminds me I’m alive. That I can feel so much and survive it. Even crave it.” She toyed with her napkin. “Does that sound strange?”
“No. It’s just with your ex…and then your accident…”
“The sting from your hand on my ass was nothing like the bruises on my back.” She rolled her eyes. “If a twisted ankle got me that wet, I’d happily go throw myself off my snowmobile every day. All right, every other.”
He laughed and leaned across the table to take her hand. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and sparks flittered over her skin. “So hurting your ankle got you a little wet? I never guessed.”
Snorting, she kicked him under the table. It wasn’t hard, since the small space meant their legs were almost tangled together. “You’re such a jerk.”
“I am. But I’m trying to change. I guess I never had so much reason to before.”
“I’ve been going to a therapist too,” she said softly. “I’ve only had two sessions so far, but I like Dr. Templeton. We’re talking through a lot of stuff, and it feels good to get it out.”
Justin’s eyes twinkled. “Is her name Lola too?”
“His first name is Bob.”
“Ah. Too bad.”
She kicked him again, and he laughed once more, making her smile. His laughter eased her in ways she didn’t fully understand. They could ease other, if she just stopped fighting the feelings she so desperately wanted to share with him.
“Van stressed boundaries.” He enfolded more of her hand in his. He was creeping forward, slowly enveloping more of her in his grip. “Setting them beforehand and making sure they’re honored. Trust is so important,” he murmured, shifting his chair back as she rose and walked around the table, still holding his hand.
“It is,” she agreed, sinking to her knees before him. She reached for his belt, and his unsteady inhale caused her to lift her eyes to his. “Am I jumping the gun?”
“Feel it and see.”
Her laughter burst out, and she dropped her forehead to his knee. “This is us.” She kissed his leg through his jeans. “Laughing. Being happy together. Enjoying each moment as it comes.”
He stroked her hair with his free hand. If anything, their fingers had locked even tighter. “I want to come with you.”
“We’re in perfect agreement there, Norton.”
She hooked a finger in his waistband and pulled him closer. In no time she’d freed his belt from its loops and unzipped his jeans. He’d gone commando, which made her purr with delight as she scooped out his already hard length. He was so hot, his erection a twitching, hungry thing in her palm.
And she wanted it in her. Wanted him in her. Everywhere.
“Running out of hands here, pal.” She reached in to stroke his balls, their pulse a not so subtle tease. “Hold that big, stiff cock for me.”
Eyes gleaming fiercely blue, he offered his thick hard-on to her like a prize. Her prize.
She took that first exploratory lick from the root to the head, relearning his textures and tastes. At the top she sank down again, using only her tongue and lips. One hand still held Justin’s. The other caressed his sac with slow, featherlight touches that earned her his repeated hisses of breath.
She spent a good long time working him with her mouth, not taking him inside until he canted his hips in a silent plea that made her grin and take pity on him. Then she sucked him deep and didn’t show him any mercy at all.
“Enough,” he grated, drawing her back when he was one throb away from a spectacular finish in her throat. His erection bobbed against his stomach, so swollen from her attention that the reddened tracks from her teeth stood out like welts. “Where do you want me?”
She flicked her tongue over her plump lower lip, and he groaned. “You mean ass or pussy?”
“No. I meant chair, couch, or bed.” He grinned and dragged her up to his mouth by her hair, pulling just enough that she let out a startled yelp. Rather than move back, he stilled and watched her eyes while she gave him a sly smile.
If he expected her to balk when he got a little rough, he was in for a rude awakening. “Oh. Then all three.”
“What about the first question?”
She rose and stripped, getting naked so quickly that he chuckled. “We’ll discuss that later. Right now we have business to attend to. Starting with you getting those jeans off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shoved the denim down to his ankles and patted his toned thighs. “Hop on. Unless you need me to prime the pump first…”