30
1055 Words
“It’s just that you change moods like I change shoes. I’ve never met someone who could go from smoldering to silly so fast.”
“Silly?” He sounds disgusted. “I’ve never been silly in my life.”
“Too macho, huh?”
“Way too macho. As you can tell.”
I have to laugh, because he’s flirting with me again. A lighthearted Kage is not something I expected. “You’re in a good mood today.”
“You called. You asked me out on a date. You’re obviously helpless against my many, many charms—”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
“—which means my plan is working perfectly.”
“What plan is that?”
He does another about-face, going from playful to scorchingly sexy as quick as two fingers snapping. He growls, “Making you mine.”
I decide this is a good time to sit down. I sink into a chair at the table and moisten my lips. My pulse is a roar like crashing ocean waves in my ears.
“You’re not saying anything.”
“Just recalibrating.”
“You already know I’m very direct.”
“What I didn’t know is that there’s no warning. I’m never ready for it. We’ll be going along at a normal speed, talking like two semi-strangers—”
“We’ve been over this. We’re not strangers.”
“—then out of nowhere, wham! Christian Grey appears and starts snapping his leather riding crop and barking commands.”
There’s a momentary pause, then Kage says, “I don’t know who this Christian Grey is, but it sounds like I’d like him.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. “I need to say something before we go on our date.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s just that you’re very intense, Kage. You’re very…provocative. Forward.” The heat in my cheeks flares hotter. “Sexual.”
He waits for more. When I don’t continue, he prompts impatiently, “And?”
“And I’m not.”
After a beat, he says in a low voice, “I can’t tell if you’re saying you don’t like it or you do.”
“It’s a little complicated, actually.”
I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal, but decide it’s too late to back out. If I didn’t want to talk about it, I shouldn’t have brought it up. “If I’m being totally honest, I do like it. The things you say shock me, but they also…”
His voice drops another octave. “What?”
My pulse throbbing, I whisper, “Turn me on.”
The silence crackles. I hear him breathing. It’s different from before. Rougher.
“I need you to know I’ll never hurt you. I need you to trust that. To trust me, without reservations. Until you can, all this is up to you. You call the shots. You make the rules. You have my word I won’t do anything you don’t specifically ask me to do.”
I balk at the thought of having to specifically ask him for anything. “See, that’s just it. I’m not, um…”
Be a big girl, Natalie. Just tell him the truth.
Keeping my voice as even as possible, I say, “I’m not so sure I can be as direct as you are. Truth be told, I’m pretty conservative.” I clear the frog from my throat. “In bed.”
His voice husky, he says, “You think I don’t know that?”
My stomach sinks. “It’s that obvious?”
“What’s obvious is that you’re so f*****g sweet, I just want to sink my teeth into every inch of you. If you’re worried you’ll disappoint me, don’t be. You’re perfect. You’re a wet dream. If you don’t like something I say or do, tell me. I want everything on the table, because I don’t want to unknowingly do something to f**k this up. That means you’re going to have to communicate with me, good or bad.”
He chuckles. “Which, so far, you’ve been very good at.”
I’m all out of breath, and the only thing I’m doing is sitting down.
I need to see a doctor about my cardiovascular fitness.
Kage must know I’m not up to a coherent response at this point, because he shows mercy by turning businesslike.
“All right, Ms. Peterson. I accept your offer for a date. What time are you picking me up?”
“Me? Pick you up? Wait—”
“You’re right, I should drive. People who burn cookies so badly can’t be trusted behind the wheel of a car.”
I laugh. “Oh, so you want me to communicate with you? Here’s where I tell you not to be a chauvinistic jerk.”
“You weren’t kidding about missing that day in etiquette class.”
“I missed the one about not being a wisecracking little smart aleck, too.”
Once again, he pulls a one-eighty, going from light to dark like quicksilver.
“Don’t worry,” he says in a hard, dominant voice. “I’ll correct that bad behavior. I’ll correct it over and over again with the palm of my hand on your naked ass until you’re writhing on my lap and begging me to let you come.”
Then he tells me he’ll pick me up at six and hangs up on me.
13
Nat
W
hen Kage knocks on my door at six, I’m calm and ready.
Ha!
I’m actually a nervous wreck, but I’m determined not to show it.
When I open up, I find him standing on my porch in his signature outlaw-meets-aristocrat ensemble of denim, leather, and luxury wool. That overcoat he’s wearing probably cost more than my car.
His unruly hair is tamed. His expression is stern. In one of his big paws, he holds a bouquet of dainty white flowers wrapped with a white satin ribbon.
It’s an unexpectedly sweet gesture. Courtly. I have a hard time imagining him at a florist, picking out individual stems, but the bouquet is obviously not one of those premade grocery-store things. It looks more like his wardrobe: simple but expensive.
This is a man who takes care when he chooses things.
- Writer
