Chapter Nine
Joe
Levi was hell on my self-restraint. And my sleep. He might have slept great, but I’d been tortured by feverish dreams of everything I wanted to try with him. After lecturing myself for a few hours, I’d gone to bed mostly resolved to tell him that we’d be better off as friends, but I’d woken up way more muddled. And horny. Even an early-morning jerk session hadn’t cured that desire, and my want had only grown stronger in the hours at the build site until I’d reached the coffee shop conflicted but resigned to letting temptation win.
He wanted a repeat, a chance to do some more kinky exploration. So a repeat he would get, and I would do my damnedest to keep things as casual as he was. Besides, between the business and helping my dad, it wasn’t like I had much time for an actual relationship. Moreover, a hot, young thing like Levi wasn’t going to want long-term with a guy like me, so it was best to be realistic.
Which was exactly what I was trying to be as I took the stairs to his apartment after he buzzed me in. Realistic. Also, more in control than I’d been the night before. I might be letting my sex drive win this round, but I could be a little more responsible. And to that end, I’d shown up with food.
“Pizza?” Levi frowned as he let me in. He’d changed out of his barista clothes and was in another track-meet shirt and loose shorts. I was surprisingly interested in what was under the shorts. Ordinarily, underwear was underwear and was better off on the floor, but Levi’s interest in fancy stuff was novel and tantalizing, filling me with all sorts of ideas.
“I owed you one.” Wiggling my eyebrows, I handed him the Mario’s box as we entered the apartment. “Since you said you need more green stuff, I got the roasted-vegetable option.”
“You did owe me.” He blushed prettily at the reminder of our late-night texts about jerking off. “But you also don’t have to feed me. I figured…”
“That we’d get right to it?” I waited while he fetched plates and napkins then followed him to the couch.
“Uh. Yeah.” He arranged the pizza and plates on the coffee table, but didn’t join me on the couch, instead shifting his weight from side to side, like he was torn between bolting and jumping me. “And I know you don’t like talking about jerking, but like, I wanted to when I got home, but I didn’t.”
“Congratulations on your patience.” My voice was drier than the crust, but the mere mention of him getting off had me heating up like a brick oven. I liked that he’d waited based on his assumption that I wouldn’t want him jerking off. His eagerness to please had my pulse thrumming. “And not wanting to discuss my sex life where friends and business contacts might hear is way different than not wanting to talk about sex, period. In fact, I was kind of hoping we could talk while we eat.”
“Talk?” He pursed his mouth.
“Yes, talk. Sit.” I pointed to the spot next to me and waited for him to comply. I half-expected more rebellion or him to go slump on the end of the couch. But he plopped down next to me, leg rubbing against mine, apparently going for the torture-Joe approach to getting what he wanted. “It’s not a dirty word. And even as cute as you are all pouty, we should probably get a few things straight before we fool around. Last time we went a bit…fast.”
“I like fast.” Bumping my shoulder with his, he gazed at me with big puppy-dog eyes. His eagerness was damn good for my ego.
“Noted.” I gave him a pointed look before handing him a piece of pizza on a plate. “But if you’re serious about wanting to get kinky—”
“Oh, I am.” He licked his lips in a way that had nothing to do with pizza.
“Good. Me too.” I suppressed a groan. I too wanted to get right to playing, but I was trying to be responsible and model good kink practices for the newbie. “And I know things can be rather fluid on Kinkbook and other apps with how fast people jump to cyber-sex, but in person, I do generally like to make sure we’re both on the same page.”
“I think we are.” He nodded earnestly, but I shook my head.
“See, think leaves a lot of room for accidentally wandering into territory that’s truly scary not the sexy-scary you like. I’d rather know for certain what your limits are.”
“And this is why you’re in charge.” After giving me an angelic smile, he finally took a bite of his pizza. “You manage to make even talking seem sexy.”
And this right here was why we so desperately needed to talk. He knew he liked submission, was eager to play, but he was also so very twenty-two and green. We might not have any sort of long-term future, but I still felt a certain responsibility toward him, needed him to understand the power dynamic better so he didn’t get taken advantage of again.
“Actually, you’re the real one in charge.” I could barely taste my pizza, all my attention on Levi, not the food. I’d brought it more for him anyway. “I like to give orders, yes. But you can stop things—”
“Safewords. Yeah, I know about those.” He rolled his eyes like I was the biggest stick in the mud. And maybe I was. But this was important, and I gave him a stern look as he continued. “Even some cyber Doms like those. Mine is goldfish.”
“Good. I’ll remember that. Now—”
“Do we need a minute-by-minute action plan or can I kiss you now? Please.”
I couldn’t hold my groan back. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I am?” He batted his eyes in an exaggerated Hollywood actress style.
“Yes. Both cute and lucky.” I patted his leg as he went back to eating. “And this isn’t us pre-planning sex or anything like that. But it is a good chance to tell me if there’s anything that is a hard limit or really turns you off.”
Giving a weary sigh, he tore off a piece of crust, shredded it. “I don’t like being made fun of.”
“Humiliation isn’t my kink,” I assured him. The wariness in his eyes told me there was likely a story or two there, but his overall reluctance to talk had me holding back from pushing for details of his past. And my patience paid off when, after several more bites, he started speaking again.
“I don’t like weird nicknames for body parts or misgendering or being size-shamed.” As he studied his half-empty plate, his skin was the same shade as the roasted red pepper strips. “But I like it when you tell me I’m cute. Or pretty, like with the panties.”
“Got it. Thank you for telling me.” I was fast figuring out that Levi loved praise, and that was something I enjoyed handing out, to the point that it had annoyed some past partners. For all his stubbornness about this conversation, Levi still made my body hum with anticipation about how fun he was going to be to play with. “Tell me more about what crosses the line into humiliation for you.”
“Non-sexual demands. Like the Doms who want you to do fifty pushups and send the video or write on your body to show how submissive you are. Not into jumping through hoops like that.” Once he got started, Levi sped up, his list faster and more animated. “I like being shoved around and made to beg, but don’t like having my oxygen cut off. Or getting come in my eyes or any play involving bodily fluid that’s not come. Being told not to speak. Gags. Okay. Maybe I do have preferences.”