Beg for It(48)

She gave him another of those thoughtful looks. “You really got used to having money, huh?”

“It’s better than not having money.”

She laughed. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“I couldn’t take care of you back then,” Reese said. “I know it was a problem.”

Again, that thoughtful, contemplative look. “We had a bunch of problems, back then.”

“We had a lot of good things too, Corinne.”

“Yes. We did.” She smiled, then said, “I said I would bring you a list of rules.”

He nodded, thinking he should sit up, but not moving. Her fingers stroked through his hair, her nails scratching lightly on his scalp. “Yes.”

“It’s a short list,” she told him.

Reese closed his eyes, smiling. “Okay.”

The feather-light touch of her fingertips over his face traced his eyebrows. The bridge of his nose. Each lip, though when he opened his mouth to try to nip at her fingers she laughed and put her palm against his mouth.

“Bad boy,” she whispered, and he looked up at her. Her eyes gleamed. She traced his lips again, and this time he resisted biting against the tickle. When she tucked her forefinger inside his mouth, he sucked gently on the tip; she withdrew it to paint slickness over his bottom lip. “The list has one rule on it.”

“Only one?” He tried not to sound disappointed, but did anyway.

She laughed. “Yes. Only the one.”

He did sit this time, shifting on the couch to face her. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Corinne cleared her throat, looking a little nervous before she smoothed her expression with an obvious effort. She shook the hair off her forehead. Squared her shoulders. She looked him right in the eyes.

“Don’t let me down.”

He paused before answering, surprised at the simplicity of the single rule. “That’s it?”

“That should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

“I just thought…” He stopped himself.

“I know what you probably thought,” Corinne said. “I think I know what you probably wanted.”

He smiled. “Yeah? What did I want on the list?”

“You wanted rules about how you should address me. Yes?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said with a grin.

“Here’s the thing about rules, Reese. If you make a list of rules for the sole purpose of defining what has to happen when you break them, doesn’t that sort of dilute the impact of the rules to begin with?”

He frowned. “Not sure what you mean.”

Corinne took him by the front of the shirt and pulled him closer, her gaze tracing all the places her fingertips had touched only moments before. “It means that I don’t want this to be about jumping through hoops. It’s hard enough to find someone you like, much less someone whose kinks align. And ours align, don’t they?”

Her fingers tightened in his shirt, digging into his chest beneath. Her mouth brushed his, but when he tried to kiss her, she pulled away. Reese’s laugh had an edge to it.

“Yes.”

“It means that I want a relationship based on mutual desires. Also respect and responsibility. It means that I’m going to take this seriously, and I expect you to do the same.” The tip of her tongue flicked his chin.

“Yes. Of course.”

“It means that I want us to take our time and relearn each other,” Corinne continued. This time, instead of her tongue stroking him, her teeth nipped at his skin. She nudged his head back to get next to his throat.

Fuck, his cock was hard enough to break brick, just from the subtle pressure of her fingers on his chest and the brief, tempting sting of her teeth. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She laughed, sweet and throaty, against his skin. “I love when you call me that. I always did.”

“I know. See? I know a lot about you already. I know you like this,” he added, sliding a hand between them to cup her breast and let his thumb pass over her nipple, already erect and taut through the thin material of her shirt and bra.

Her hissing gasp sent a slow, rolling bolt of desire through him. He wanted to bury his face between her breasts and pull up her shirt to get at her flesh beneath, but he kept his thumb just barely stroking over her nipple. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sound of her breathing.

When she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his head back, he didn’t move his hand. Corinne licked her lips. “This is not going to be all about sex.”

“No, Ma’am.”

“I expect you to actually take me out. On dates.”

He grinned, letting his thumb stroke, stroke, stroke. Her nipple felt about as hard as his dick; he hoped she was starting to ache the way he was. “Absolutely. Anywhere you want to go.”

“I…oh.”

He pinched lightly then, sending a shudder through her that had her giving him a stern look. “Yes, Ma’am? You were saying?”

She put her hand over his, then removed it firmly. “It’s late. I don’t know about you, Mr. Bazillionaire Boss, but I have to work in the morning.”

“Call in sick.”

“Up.” She pushed him until he moved away, then she stood. “I’m going home.”

“But—” At the warning look she shot him, Reese gave a muffled groan. “Fine.”