“How revealing of you, Blake. That’s very interesting, and also sad. Never have I ever—”
“The purpose of this game is to tell the truth.” He cuts me off.
“Okay. And?”
“And if someone isn’t telling the truth,” he says as he grips my hips and pulls me into his lap—letting me straddle him, “they can be challenged and made to drink an extra shot.”
“How scary.” I can feel his cock hardening underneath me. “Please, tell me more.”
He rubs his hands up and down my sides. “The thought of sleeping with me hasn’t crossed your mind?”
“Nope.”
“Is that honestly true?”
“Is there another type of true?” I try to move out of his lap, but his grip is too tight.
“You weren’t dreaming about me fucking you last night? After I kissed you, you didn’t want more?”
“How many different ways do you plan on asking the same question?” I keep my voice firm. “I said that I’ve never wanted to sleep with a stranger—that includes you. That means that I haven’t dreamed of fucking a stranger—that also includes you. Also, while we’re on the topic of—” I stop.
His hand is sliding into my jeans, stopping right at the crotch of my panties. He’s tapping his finger against the soaked spot, narrowing his eyes at me as he does it.
“You were saying?” He raises his eyebrow.
“I was saying that…” I gasp as he pushes my panties to the side and slips a finger inside of me. “I was saying that…”
“That you’ve never wanted to sleep with me?” he whispers. “That you weren’t wet when I massaged you?”
“Yes.”
He slips two fingers inside of me and moves them both in and out, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “There are penalties for lying in this game.”
“So?” I barely manage; his thumb is gently circling my clit.
“So, I’m going to give you a chance to change your answer.” He kisses my neck. “Are you sure that you’ve never, ever, wanted to sleep with me?”
“Absolutely.” I suck in a breath as his fingers slide deeper and deeper.
“How sure?”
“Very.” I’m breathless. “Ten hundred percent sure, to be exact.”
He smiles and slowly pulls his fingers out of me, then he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean.
OH. MY. GOD!
My mouth is hanging open. I’m not sure if he just did that.
“I did,” he says, as if he can read my mind. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper. “My New Year’s Resolutions: Number five: Have hot and passionate sex with someone who isn’t Adrian.”
I can feel all the color leaving my face, feel my heart pounding louder and louder. “Where did you get that?”
“It fell out of your jacket this morning when I took you to the airport. I was about to toss it away and drive off, but once I opened it and read it, I decided that wasn’t the best idea.”
“So what?” I shrug and regain my composure. “That doesn’t mean that I wanted to have hot and passionate sex with you. I didn’t even know you when I wrote that list.”
“Number eight.” He looks at the paper again. “Have hot and passionate sex. With an ORGASM.”
“Once again, there’s no mention of you, so—”
“Right underneath that, in a different colored pen, you added ‘someone like Blake, maybe?’ in very small print. Would you like to see that part for yourself?”
I gasp and snatch the paper away.
“I’m more than happy to help you check off both of those numbers.” He leans forward and whispers, “All you have to do is tell me that you want me.”
Mortified, I suck in a breath and jump up. “I’m done playing this game.”
“I’d feel the same way, if I was losing.” He smiles. “Are you going to congratulate me on my win or are you going to be a sore loser and leave me all alone?”
“Fuck you, Blake.”
“I’d love for you to.”
I roll my eyes and head down the hallway to “my” room. I double lock the doors again and again, and as soon as I’m sure that they’re secure, I fall back onto the bed.
I can’t believe he found my list, that he knew that I wanted to sleep with him all day and kept any mention of it to himself.
I hold the paper up and notice that he’s written notes next to a few of my resolutions:
* * *
3. Start getting massages at least twice a year. If it’s under fifty dollars.
(I’d be more than happy to give you as many of these as you like.)
4. Do something spontaneous and crazy. Just for the hell of it, something that would scare and excite me at the same time.
(We should discuss this.)
5. Have passionate, hot sex with someone who isn’t Adrian. (Okay, me and Adrian never had hot, passionate sex—Why was I with him again? Why was I—STOP IT. Must finish this list.)
(I’m not sure why you were with him either, but I would love to help you satisfy this resolution.)
6. Meet someone who wants to treat me all the time and not vice versa.
(Let me take you on a date after the storm is over.)
7. Write everyday. I’m supposed to be an aspiring journalist, but this list is the first thing I’ve written in months. MONTHS.
(I have a private library you can use.)
8. Have passionate, hot sex with someone who can give me an ORGASM.
(Multiple.)
Seven
Later that night
There’s a heavy snow falling outside my window. It’s blanketing everything in sight, and under the night’s grey skies, the scene looks surreal.
I want to step outside on the balcony and toss my phone into the snow, but I can’t seem to stop listening to Adrian’s latest speech.
“Please stop calling me, Adrian,” I say. “I took a flight to get away from you for a reason.”
“Tell me where you are, so I can drive to you. It doesn’t matter how far.” He sounds sincere. “Please.”
“No, thank you.”
“Paris, I’m sorry. I want us to work this out.”
“What’s the point, Adrian? Do you even love me anymore? Did you ever?”
“What type of question is that? Of course, I loved you. I still do.”
“That’s why you want to marry me?” Tears have been falling down my face ever since I stupidly picked up the phone.
“Yes, Paris. That’s exactly why. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“So, if I say no, if I say that I think we should wait a few years, what would you say to that?”
He hesitates. “Why would you say no?”
“Answer the question.”
“Babe, seriously, where are you? We need to discuss this in person.”
“We can discuss it right now.” I wipe my face on my sleeve. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“If you said no?” There’s a bit of anger in his voice. “I guess I would just let you say no. But I would also say that it would probably be easier for us, if we got married.”