Not in Love by Ali Hazelwood

He nodded at her to go ahead.

“The kink stuff.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her closely. “What’s your question?”

“I think you can answer that on your own,” she parroted back at him, and he shook his head, giving up on not grinning.

“Do you want to know what I’m into?”

She nodded.

“Are you going to get scared if I tell you?”

“No. People can have all sorts of desires and avoid imposing them on others without their consent. I trust you.”

That was dizzying. And definitely pornographic. Rue Siebert, trusting him. He could do a lot with that knowledge. Play around with the possibility. Maybe, if the stars aligned, act on it. “I enjoy . . . calling the shots.”

She was silent for a beat. “I think I already knew that.” He wasn’t surprised, not after their conversation in one of Kline’s labs. “You’re good at stopping yourself, but sometimes I can tell that you’d rather be . . .”

He waited for her to finish. When she didn’t, he said, “In charge?”

She nodded again, and he smiled at her reassuringly.

“Is it something you need? To enjoy sex?”

“No. Some of the best sex I’ve had incorporated no elements of that.” With you, he didn’t add.

“Was your fiancée into it?”

“She was. We were very well matched in that sense.”

“Do you have a . . . sex dungeon?”

“I live in Texas, Rue. I don’t even have a basement.”

She hid her smile in her knees, then asked, “Did you hurt her? During sex?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t something either of us was interested in. It’s more about control.”

“You taking control?”

“It would be more appropriate to say that she surrendered hers, within the context of sex. These kinds of relationships require trust. Boundaries. Lots of false starts and abrupt stops as we figured it out. Some trial and error.”

“So, if there was no pain . . . ?”

“I’d tie her up. Blindfold her. Hold her down. Tell her what to do. Do you know what orgasm denial is?”

“I speak English.” Her look was faintly offended, and he huffed out a laugh.

God, what he wouldn’t give to pin her down on this table. Show her exactly what he meant. “There you go, then.”

“You know,” she mused, “a guy I met on the app spanked me, once.”

He let out a silent laugh. “Look at you. A professional kinkster.”

“I know, right?”

“What did you think of it?”

She seemed unimpressed. “It was mostly ridiculous.”

Eli wanted to lean forward. He wanted to smooth out the vertical lines between her brows and tell her that he was right there, and she didn’t need to think about some asshole who was probably shitty in bed and couldn’t get her off, because he had her, he was willing to learn her, he was consumed by her. But he didn’t, because it would have sent her running. And the question she wanted to ask was swelling between them, stretching the silence to the limits of its comfort.

He didn’t need her to say it. But fuck, he wanted her to. “Come on, Rue. Don’t chicken out now.” He watched her swallow. Her lips remained sealed, so he clucked his tongue. “It’s not like you.”

She seemed to agree, because she met his eyes squarely. “Would you like to do that with me?”

Under the table, his hand and his cock twitched at once. He thought about pulling her into his lap. Locking her in this house and throwing away the key. About the things he could do to her. Discovering her limits. Figuring out what she liked. Having her at his mercy. Making her enjoy it. She had no fucking idea how much fun they could have, just the two of them. “If you wanted to try, yes. Some of it.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing that would push too hard, too quickly. Just you, letting me be in charge. And we’d talk everything over.” His blood thudded loudly in his veins. In anticipation. Or worry that she might change her mind. “You could stay for the day. We could . . . experiment.”

She blinked. “I should go home.”

“Why?” He tried for an easy grin. Not too eager. “It’s not like you have any pets.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was amused. “I do have plants to water.”

“The cactus you bought at the grocery store last week will be fine.”

She chewed on her lower lip. He studied her long, graceful fingers drumming against the table, remembered how they’d felt wrapped around him. “Won’t Maya be back?”

“Not until tonight. And I overheard her tell her friend Jade that I’m an incel. I’d love to show her that I do have some game.”

She laughed softly, and Eli knew that he had her.





22





GOOD GIRL





RUE

When we returned upstairs, I had three messages on my phone.

Nyota, emailing the contact information for a real estate lawyer licensed in Texas and Indiana. Good news is, he came highly recommended. Sad news: his hourly rate might reflect that.

Tisha, informing me that she was going to Kline for a couple of hours to finish up something for “the anthropomorphized period cramp” (Matt), asking whether I wanted to join her. We could take a joint dump on his desk on our way out. LMK.