Page 23 of The Decadent Gift (The Gift 3)
Great sex, and that was what we’d just had, was a happiness elixir. I was a king right now, riding the best kind of high.
I flopped down next to her, my body still craving nearness to the woman I wanted. Shifting to my side, I ran my fingers along her cheek and asked the question, because I couldn’t wait to hear how she answered. “So, how was it?”
When she met my gaze, her eyes were soft and pretty, a hint of vulnerability in them. Or perhaps it was openness. Whatever it was, I liked it, especially as she asked gently, “You don’t know?”
I stroked her arm, savoring the feel of her warm skin. “I want to hear it from you.”
Her eyebrows climbed. “You do?”
“Why so doubtful?”
“It doesn’t seem like you to conduct a postmortem on what was obviously great sex.”
Ah, that description warmed the cockles of my heart. And other cockles. “But it’s exactly like me, and here’s why—I like fucking you. I intend to fuck you again, and I want to make you scream in pleasure every single time. So the more you tell me, the better it gets. Is that good enough for you?”
She smiled like the Mona Lisa. “All you had to do was say that.”
“Does that surprise you? That I want to know what feels good to you?”
She shrugged. “A little, to tell the truth.”
“Why is that surprising?” Then it hit me—the same reason most women weren’t used to this conversation. My jaw clenched. “Let me guess. Guys you’ve dated didn’t ask or care how to make sex better for you? Or if there was anything else you wanted to try?”
She tapped her nose. “Bingo.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Sure, some asked how I liked the steak. Was it cooked the way I wanted? But no one asked if I wanted chicken. Or pork. Or the vegan patty, perhaps, with sriracha sauce.”
I laughed at her outrageous metaphors. “Or sautéed tofu?”
“Exactly. Didn’t they know I wanted bacon-wrapped gizzards one night and garden burgers the next?” She laughed, then her humor tapered off. “But seriously, that was exactly how it went. No one asked. No one wanted to know, I suppose.”
Shoving a hand through my hair, I huffed, then tried to let go of my frustration. I would never understand why jerks appealed to women. “Enlighten me. Tell me what draws you to the breed of man known as ‘jackass.’”
She pushed my bare chest. “I didn’t say I liked that breed. That’s not my thing. I don’t go for cocky assholes. But news flash—most men don’t know how to make sex better for a woman. Because most guys don’t actually want to try new things.”
I propped my head up higher, liking this direction and curious about what she might share. “So, this was new to you?” I waved toward the living room. “What we did?”
She inhaled like she was drawing strength, then nodded. “Yes, role-playing like this is new to me.”
The warmth that spread through me was different than lust, stronger. Kate had let me in on something private and personal, and my heart sat up and took notice. “But you’ve wanted to? And were never with someone who did too?”
“Exactly. I’ve never met someone I wanted to explore those aspects of my sexuality with. I think I always knew I wanted more than vanilla sex, more than reverse cowgirl on anniversaries, but I didn’t know exactly what I did want either. I didn’t know if my interests were in role-playing or voyeurism or just trying some new positions and having sex on the table or something.”
“How did you figure it out? What you craved after dark?”
She took a beat, glancing around the suite, which felt like a private cocoon now. “It took a while. In college, sex was usually just about the freedom and novelty of being able to have it in your dorm room instead of sneaking around. Then after college, I was so focused on business that all that took a back seat. Once I started dating more seriously, I didn’t quite realize what I was missing, either, because I was always drawn to the really romantic guys.”
I cocked my head. “That’s surprising. You don’t seem like the type who likes to be wined and dined.”
“I like those things,” she said softly, like she was letting me in on another secret.
I held up my hand to halt her right there. “Whoa. Stop the presses. Kate Williams likes to be romanced?”
She rolled her eyes. “And you wondered why I didn’t want to say anything.”
I ceased the teasing, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It just doesn’t seem like you, that’s all. You come across as so tough. Take no prisoners. Like you don’t need flowers or dinners at Michelin two-star restaurants.”
