Page 49 of You Make Me Feel
But I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of emotionally blinking first.
“I never said I didn’t want to be in the same room as you,” he murmurs. “I just…” He shakes his head, as though the thought is too much. Then he straightens his shoulders, leans forward, catches me straight in the eye.
“If we’re going to do this, I have questions,” he tells me.
My heart almost stops. God, he wants this too? I have to force myself to breathe.
“You want to do this with me?” I whisper.
His gaze lifts, steady and deliberate. “I want to make sure you understand what it means first.” His voice is so calm, so measured, it almost hides the heat beneath it.Almost. “No guessing. No mixed signals. You answer what I ask, honestly. Then we’ll see ifyouwant it.”
“Okay.” I nod. This is what I want. Reading that book, being with him. It’s the first time in forever I’ve been interested in sex. In men. In playing withcontrol.
And if I’m being truthful with myself, I want to be the center of this man’s attention. I want to be his obsession.
Even if it’s just a game.
“Do you have a questionnaire or something?” I ask.
This time he laughs. Softly. “This isn’t my usual thing either, Sadie. I just need to know what you know. Let’s take the next couple of days to think about things. I’ll message you questions when they come to mind. Don’t answer right away. Sit with them. Think about what you want.”
I tip my head to the side. “What if I want what you want?” And yeah, I’m flirting. But damn, if this man is going to chase me, I want to entice him. To make him feel giddy, the way I am right now.
“We’ll see,” he murmurs, that smile on his lips again. Then he stands and reaches for my hand. I take it, his palm warm against mine, the contact sending a shiver through me. He pulls me to my feet, steadying me when my heel catches on the rug.
And it makes me feel strong. Like my voice matters. Like he cares about me. Even though I know that thought is dangerous.
“Am I allowed to have conditions, too?” I ask him.
He’s so close I can see the flecks of brown in his blue eyes. Can smell the deep notes of his cologne as he looks down at me.
“This is all about your conditions,” he murmurs. “Shoot away.”
“You said we were friends,” I say, remembering the sharp feeling of rejection I felt in the Salty Dog the other night. “If we’re doing this, I’d like it to stay that way.”
He reaches out and traces my jaw, and I feel the pressure of his fingers down to my toes. “Friends,” he says, like he’s trying iton for size.
My lips part as his touch lingers. What am I going to be like when he catches me?
When he’s inside of me?
I blink that thought away. Because I need to focus right now.
“Yes. We can do that. Friends,” he agrees, his voice low. “But I need something from you, too.”
“Don’t worry, I promise not to fall in love with you,” I tell him, because I think that’s what he wants to hear.
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” A frown flitters across his lips. “I want you to be honest with me at all times. I need to know what you’re thinking. And I need to know you’re safe. I need you to talk to me. If I message to ask if you got home okay, you do it.”
I nod. “That sounds fair.”
“I guess I should go home then,” I say, a smile pulling at my lips. Because dear god, this man is so damn hot.
And he’s going to chase me until we’re both breathless.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You don’t have—” I trail off, remembering my promise. “That would be nice.”
