She shifted, her panties damp and her body growing more sensitive. “That could probably be arranged. So you don’t think I’m weird?”
“First, you say weird like it’s a bad thing. I make my living on weird. But no. This is the best kind of learning I could think of. Let’s have a lesson in this every day.” He sent her an unrepentant grin. “How to Make Jasper Hot and Bothered 101 followed immediately by How to Make Hollyn Come 201. And 301. And if we mix in some breakfast and hydrate, perhaps 401.”
She rolled her eyes, but a giddy lightness filled her.
“Seriously, though,” he said, his eyes meeting hers and his finger winding a tendril of her hair. “I know we’re doing this partly because you want to get comfortable with some things, so don’t get so stressed out to ask me stuff.” He smoothed a finger down her twitching cheek. “Ask for what you want. Always. Not just with me. If, in the future, a guy ever thinks you’re weird or throws shade at you for doing that, then you drop his ass on the hot pavement. Sex can be fun. It can be hot. It can be kinky or serious. It can be a lot of things. But what it should always be is a safe zone to explore what each person likes. If everyone is consenting and it’s legal, there really are no limits beyond that.” He brushed his fingertip over her lips. “Just be you. Because you are pretty damn spectacular, Hollyn Darling. Any guy you invite into your bed should thank the benevolent universe that he has the privilege of being there and should answer any question you have and let you explore all you want.”
Something peaceful settled deep in Hollyn’s bones at his words. This was Jasper without the facade, without the layer of jokes and sarcasm. She was getting peeks of that guy more and more. Underneath that quick wit of his, he was a genuinely caring person who wanted to make others feel accepted and safe. Not once had he made her feel different or judged or odd. Not for her questions, not for asking for an unconventional relationship, not for her anxiety, and not for her uncooperative muscles. He’d never made her feel like he was hanging out with her despite her issues. With him, she sometimes forgot she even had the tics. Because he didn’t stare. He didn’t make her feel self-conscious. He embraced exactly who she was.
No, not just embraced but seemed to genuinely enjoy being with her—both as a friend and a lover.
He treated her like she was…Hollyn. Not the chick with the tics. Not the woman with the panic attacks. Not the homeschooled freak from the small town. With him, she was label-less.
He saw her.
The realization was like a plunge in an icy lake—bracing and clear and bright.
“Hey, you okay?” Jasper asked.
Her expression must’ve changed, but she couldn’t find her words, so she just nodded. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. But she was definitely not fine. Her body had gone cold and then hot all over, and her chest had tightened as if her ribs had been cinched up with string. It was like a panic attack only…not. It was her inner voice screaming at her. Oh shit. Oh no. Don’t do this. You promised. But it was too damn late.
She had caught the plague she’d been determined to inoculate herself from.
She’d caught feelings. Motherfucking, knock-her-on-her-ass feelings. For a guy who had told her there was no chance for more.
She was so damn pathetic. She was supposed to be tougher than this by now. Don’t fall for the popular guy. Don’t fall for someone who isn’t a possibility. Don’t be that girl waiting under the tree for the kiss again. She was smarter than this. She blinked quickly, her eyes burning, and looked away.
“Hollyn?” Jasper asked, concern in his voice.
She took a deep inhale and tried to refocus her thoughts. She would not do this right now. She could freak out about this later—alone, when Jasper wasn’t here. This morning wasn’t about feelings. He’d slept over because it was late, and they were hooking up. This was sex. This was supposed to be about sex.
That was what it had to be about. Needed to be about. Jasper wasn’t here to love her. He wasn’t going to be her boyfriend. She wasn’t going to introduce him to her mother. She needed to focus on what was real. What was good.
This didn’t have to be a tragedy. There was a gorgeous half-naked man offering himself to her. Someone who was great in bed and attracted to her. She needed to focus on that. On how delicious Jasper looked. On how skilled he was at touching her. Not on the feelings he stirred up.
“Tell me a fetish or fantasy you wouldn’t tell just anyone,” she blurted out, trying to reroute the conversation and her whirlwind thoughts.
Jasper sank back against the pillow and chuckled. “How long have you got?”
“Ha. Just one for now,” she said, folding down the covers and revealing his still-tented boxers. She zeroed in on the physical sensations that sight set off. That was the only kind of feelings she needed to be focused on right now. Her body’s response to him. All she wanted to think about was the way Jasper’s body was going to feel beneath her hands, the way it would feel to have him inside her again. The images that conjured chased the panic into a dark corner and got her back on track. She traced a line along his length through the cotton, fascinated by the way his cock flexed and jumped at her barely there touch.
His abdomen dipped like he was trying to find a breath. “Just one. Okay.”
“An embarrassing one,” she clarified, circling the head of his cock with her fingertip, a damp spot appearing on his shorts.
“So clearly torture is one of yours,” he joked. “Okay, embarrassing, some fetish or fantasy I wouldn’t tell anyone else. Let’s see…” He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.
That got her attention. “What? Whatever one just crossed your mind, tell me.”
He groaned. “God, this one is pretty gross. I would judge me for this one.”
Her eyebrows lifted and she glanced at his face. “Now, I’m really intrigued.”
He cringed and closed his eyes. “So I may have this fantasy of a woman getting my name tattooed some place on her body that only I would see. Something that marked her as mine.”
Hollyn’s lips parted.
He cracked an eyelid open, peeking at her. “It’s so obnoxiously egotistical and misogynistic, I know. But there it is. The thought makes me hard. That’s definitely something I wouldn’t tell anyone else. You can now proceed to blackmail me.”
She stared at him, processing that. Marking her as mine. That sent a shiver of heat through her. “Isn’t that like a kink thing? Like putting a collar or brand on someone or whatever?”
She hadn’t done kink, but she’d certainly read about it.
He wet his lips. “Maybe? But that really isn’t my scene. It’s more. I don’t know. I can’t really explain it. But like, the thought of making love to a woman and seeing my name on her shoulder or something like that. Something permanent.” His cock jumped against her hand, the fantasy clearly sending his blood pumping. “It just does it for me.”