by Kendall Ryan
Once I felt I’d provided adequate background information, I paused to take a sip of my water. Gavin remained silent, clearly waiting for me to actually ask him a question before speaking.
I sighed. “I was wondering if you had any advice for me as I proceed. Quinn suggested you might from your days in the Dominant/submissive scene. It’s not that she doesn’t get aroused—it was clear from our first meeting that her body wanted to be physical with mine. The problem is her emotional reaction to her own arousal. It scares her. And I’m just wondering if you have any tips on how to make her more comfortable with her body’s natural reaction to physical pleasure.”
Gavin nodded and remained silent for a moment, clearly considering what to say. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his eyes were stern and serious.
“Before I disclose what I know about opening women up to pleasure,” he said, “I want to warn you. Be careful with this one, Coop. I read her file when we hired her, and I know Quinn made sure you saw it too. She was in the system, and you and I have enough experience with that to know that you don’t grow up like that without developing a few wounds over the years. She might have agreed to something purely physical, but women rarely mean that. Go slow. Be gentle. Something tells me this woman is still healing from some pretty massive trauma in her past.”
I nodded and looked down at the counter, bristling at Gavin’s paternal tone. When had my brother become the expert on childhood trauma? The Gavin I knew five years ago would have encouraged me to fuck her out of my system, and the Gavin I knew just last year would have told me to run the other way.
But the Gavin standing in front of me now was contemplative and empathetic. It was clear to me then more than ever how much his marriage to Emma had changed him.
In any other moment, I would have been impressed by my brother’s insight. Right then, however? I was about ready to pop him in the eye.
“Right,” I said, meeting Gavin’s stern gaze with a cold look of my own. “I know all that. You weren’t the only one with a rocky childhood, you know. I was there too.”
Gavin raised his hands in surrender. “Not trying to start anything,” he said, shaking his head. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page here.”
I nodded and took another sip of my water. “So, what do you suggest?” I asked, ready to move on to more practical advice.
“First, there has to be a lot of conversation before you start slapping your private parts together. Start with goals with limits,” Gavin said, walking around the island and taking a seat at one of the bar stools to my left. “You need to learn what’s on her no-go list. Some women are perfectly fine getting fucked in the ass but won’t let you kiss them on the mouth, so you need to ask. You two might not be interested in romance, but her pleasure will depend on how much trust you can build between the two of you.”
I nodded, making a mental list of all the things I needed to do. I wasn’t expecting there to be such an emphasis on actually having a conversation, but it made sense as Gavin explained it to me. “Thanks, man. What else?” I could see there was more he wanted to say.
“The conversation shouldn’t stop there. During physical intimacy, you’ll want to make sure there’s a lot of communication. Get her to tell you how she’s feeling, what she likes, what feels good.”
I nodded. “Do we need to establish a safe word?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can, but generally, the words no or stop should suffice.”
“Got it. Should I plan a proper date then?”
“That’s a good place to start. It doesn’t have to be romantic, but she should know she’s valued. I could make you a reservation at the Union. The owner’s a friend.”
“No, I don’t want to intimidate her,” I said, remembering the blush that so easily spread across her cheeks and her perfect, ample chest. “Maybe a quiet dinner at home would be best. I could cook for her. It’d be intimate, that’s for sure.”
Gavin chuckled. “Cooper, you and I both know you can’t cook. I’ll send Emma over to help you. She’ll make sure whatever you serve your date is edible.”
I paused, unsure of how to respond. While the mention of Emma no longer sent a pang of sadness and regret shooting through my whole body, I hadn’t talked to her since my stint in Florida, and part of me didn’t want to see her again for the first time under these circumstances.
The more I thought about it, however, the better the idea sounded. It would be good to clear the air with her, and then I could finally patch up the old wound for good. That way, my focus could be solely on Corinne and her pleasure.
“Sure, Emma can help,” I said. For once, I was grateful for my brother’s unaffected nature.
“It’s settled then.” Gavin nodded. “Just know that if you manage to catch your apartment on fire, even on Emma’s watch, there’s no way I’m paying for it,” he said with a wink.
• • •
At work, I didn’t press Corinne, and kept our relationship strictly professional. In the meantime, I did my best to make sure that my home felt welcoming and inviting.
Wednesday night, I called her and asked if she’d like to come to my place for dinner on Thursday—not a date night—and she agreed to come. Even in our five-minute conversation over the phone, she sounded nervous, so I was determined to take Gavin’s advice and do everything in my power to make sure she felt safe and comfortable around me. I understood then that a solid foundation of trust would be the only way she would ever allow herself to surrender to the pleasure I wanted to give her.
My apartment wasn’t a bachelor pad, per se, but it was clear that I didn’t live with a woman. Huge TV, plush leather sofa, fully stocked bar—I didn’t spend money on things like decorative pillows or complementary ottomans. I was concerned only with quality and function, which meant state-of-the-art appliances, the latest in high-definition technology, and the kind of furniture that was so well-made, it would last for generations after I was gone. I liked the way I lived, but I didn’t want Corinne to feel timid or out of place in my home, so I did my best to soften my place’s rough, industrial edges.
Once my apartment felt sufficiently non-threatening, I made a quick trip to the store to pick up the ingredients I needed for dinner that night. Normally, I relied on delivery services to leave my favorite meals on my doorstep, either ready to eat or in need of a mere half hour in the oven, so the grocery store was kind of new territory. Still, I had decided to cook for Corinne to make my home feel even more inviting, and I could only do that with fresh ingredients I’d picked out myself.
Gavin was right when he said I wasn’t much of a cook, but he didn’t know I’d taken a cooking class during a week-long vacation in Italy. The instructor was gorgeous, so I took the class three times, and while I failed to win the affections of the beautiful Italian culinary goddess, I did succeed in learning to make a killer lasagna from scratch. I didn’t make the dish often—not even my brothers knew about my secret cooking skills—but the few times I chose to do so, it always paid off.
As I wandered through the aisles of the store, looking for fresh lasagna noodles and grass-fed beef, I went over Gavin’s advice in my head. I knew that the moment Corinne stepped through the door into my home, it would take every ounce of willpower I had not to rip her clothes off then and there. The way her perfectly round ass filled out the little pencil skirts she wore hit me right behind the zipper, and part of me longed to skip all the talking and go straight to showing her how good I could make her feel.
Just as I started to imagine exactly what I wanted to do to Corinne, my thoughts were interrupted by my phone buzzing in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I was surprised to find Emma’s name on my screen.
“Emma, hi, what’s going on?”
“Cooper, where are you? I’ve been ringing your doorbell for five minutes now.”
Fuck.
In all my preparations f
or my date with Corinne, I’d completely forgotten that Emma was coming over beforehand to help me cook. Now I looked like the asshole who no longer wanted her help.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Emma. You got there sooner than I expected. I’m just finishing up at the grocery store. I’ll be back soon.”
“Oh, that’s fine. No problem. I’ll be here.”
I smiled. Even after everything that happened, Emma was still willing to jump in and help me.
“You can let yourself in. The spare’s hiding in one of the potted plants.”
“Right. Thanks, Coop. See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
I hung up and stood there for a moment, waiting for a wave of nervousness or sadness to wash over me. But I didn’t feel anything. Had I actually forgotten that Emma was coming over?
This whole Corinne thing was really getting to me.
When I arrived back at my place, I found Emma in the kitchen, sipping from a bottle of water and obviously lost in a book she’d brought with her.
“I see you had no trouble finding the key,” I said, causing Emma to jump up out of her seat.
“Jesus, Cooper, you scared me!” she cried, looking like she was ready to throw her book at me.
I laughed and raised my hands in surrender. “Sorry. I forgot how jumpy you are.”
Emma smiled. “Yeah, me too,” she said, her eyes meeting mine with the kind of softness and familiarity that used to make my heart pound and my cock perk up in interest.
But in that moment? I didn’t feel anything but the ease and comfort that comes from visiting with an old friend.
Once we’d unpacked the groceries, I began to make my secret lasagna recipe—browning the mix of sausage and ground beef; mixing the ricotta with garlic, parmesan, and herbs; and heating up a jar of pasta sauce. If I’d really planned ahead, I would have made my own sauce from scratch, but I didn’t want to push my luck.
Emma watched me quietly from the corner, her eyes wide. “Looks like you hardly need me at all,” she said playfully, crossing her arms.
I laughed. “Gavin doesn’t know everything about me, you know.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Emma smiled, leaning back against the counter.
After I finished assembling the lasagna, I placed it deftly in the oven, where it needed to cook on low heat for an hour before I took off the top layer of foil to brown the cheese.
“So, you’re cooking for your new assistant, Corinne, huh?” Emma asked with a grin.
Corinne. Just her name had an effect on me. “Yeah. She’s . . . great.”
“That’s awfully nice of you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, because I wasn’t sure what the fuck I was doing, but I returned Emma’s easy smile.
We stood there for a moment in silence, and I decided that then was as good a time as any.
“Why don’t you take a seat in the living room. I think we should talk,” I said, motioning to the couch.
She nodded and took a seat, and I joined her after washing my hands.
“Listen, Emma,” I said, shifting to face her fully. “I want to apologize for the way I handled things. You were honest with me from the beginning about not knowing what you wanted . . . it was unfair of me to just go radio silent when things didn’t go my way.”
“No, Cooper, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve been more up front with you earlier on. That whole time of our lives was so . . . chaotic. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and you were the one who ended up getting hurt. I’m so sorry about that, really. You were such a good friend to me through it all. It breaks my heart to think of how I hurt you.”
It was good to hear the words come out of Emma’s mouth, even if I already knew that she was too sweet to hold on to any malice. “I appreciate your apology, Emma, but really, there’s nothing to apologize for. You followed your heart. And when I see how happy you and Gavin make each other, it’s clear that you made the right decision.”
“Thank you,” she said, her brows scrunching together in sincerity. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
“I mean it,” I said, pausing before I added, “Although my brother can still be quite the ass every now and then.”
Emma laughed. “There are some things not even true love can change.”
I smiled and my thoughts immediately returned to Corinne. She was so timid around me, like a fragile little dove. I was curious about awakening the tiger inside her. Maybe Emma was right, and love couldn’t fix everything.
Mind-blowing sex and a few killer orgasms, on the other hand?
I had a feeling those might do the trick.
Chapter Eight
Corinne
This was it. I was about to begin my first evening with Cooper—the man who offered me a no-strings-attached sexual relationship centered around my pleasure. The man who made me want to crush my lips to his one second, and run in the other direction the next. The man who also happened to be my boss.
Come on, Corinne, pull yourself together.
When I reached Cooper’s front door, I paused to take a deep breath and center myself before knocking.
Why was I so nervous? This date was a sure thing. No unbearable small talk, no cringe-worthy oversharing, no awkward fumbling through whether he’d kiss me good night or not. The whole point of our arrangement was to make things between us as simple as possible. We took emotions right out of the equation. We were doing this for me, so I would finally know what kind of pleasure I’d been missing out on, and have the confidence to take charge of my sex life.
So, why did I feel so uncertain about what I was about to walk into?
I took another deep breath and adjusted the waistline of my skintight jeans. They weren’t the most comfortable item of clothing I owned, but they sure made my ass look great—and I could use all the confidence in the world tonight. I’d paired them with a pale pink top that showed what I thought was a good amount of cleavage, though Mauve had commented to me once that if the neckline on it was any higher, I’d look like a nun. Still, I felt pretty, maybe even something close to sexy, and I was as ready as I’d ever be to get the festivities started.
I knocked and within moments, Cooper appeared. As he stood there, his tall frame taking up the entire doorway, I had to take a moment to regain my composure. In the office, Cooper always looked good. More relaxed than Gavin or Quinn, maybe, but his sleek button-downs made him look put together, even when he had his sleeves rolled up.
But tonight? He looked positively edible. If Cooper in the office was nice to look at, Cooper outside of work was freaking irresistible. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a gray Henley shirt with the top button undone, the soft fabric outlining the muscles on his arms and chest just enough to leave little to the imagination.
“You look exquisite.” Cooper smiled, snapping me out of my trance. “Please, come in.” He stepped to the side out of the doorway, giving me space to walk around him.
I smiled weakly and ducked through the door, my heart pounding in my chest. “You look nice too.”
Standing in the entryway, I took a quick look around, silently marveling at how polished the whole place looked. While I wasn’t a professional at home decoration, I could tell that Cooper had good taste. Leather, wood, granite . . . all his surfaces looked natural and expensive. I loved my little apartment, but I couldn’t imagine living somewhere this nice and put together.
“Your home is beautiful,” I said as Cooper closed the door and turned to face me.
“Thank you.” He placed a hand lightly on the small of my back. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you a glass of wine?”
I felt my cheeks redden and struggled to keep myself from jumping at his touch.
You’re safe here. He’s only trying to make you feel comfortable.
“Wine would be great, thanks,” I said and followed Cooper into the kitchen.
He poured us each a glass of red, and I was grat
eful for something to settle my nerves. From the kitchen, I could see that Cooper had set his dining room table for two, complete with a white tablecloth and a single candle waiting to be lit on a delicate candlestick. The gesture was sweet, but my stomach churned at the romantic implications.
Cooper peeked into the oven, smiled to himself, and pulled a dish out, placing it triumphantly on a hot pad on the counter.
“What are we having?” I took a sip of my wine, trying my best to be casual.
“Lasagna.” He shot me a cheeky grin. “It’s a recipe I learned a few years back on vacation in Italy.”
I choked a little on my wine, doing my best to play it off as an innocent cough. “You cook?”
He smiled. “Not really. If I’m being honest, this is the only thing I can make. In fact, when I told Gavin I’d be cooking for you, he sent his wife, Emma, over to make sure I didn’t burn the place down.”
“You told Gavin I was coming over?”
My head started swimming with nervous thoughts about other people knowing. Who else had he told? Did everyone in the office know? Did they all think I was easy? Cooper was my boss, which meant this wasn’t exactly appropriate.
“I mentioned it in passing, yeah,” Cooper said casually, but I could tell from the weird look on his face that there was more to it.
I didn’t want to pry, though, so I shrugged it off. We weren’t here to bare our deep dark secrets. We were here to do the other thing that scared the living daylights out of me.
Opening myself up. Literally.
I took another long swallow of wine.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving, actually.”
Cooper served us each a generous portion of the lasagna, complete with a side salad and a thick slice of Italian bread. When we sat down to eat, he lit the single candle on the table. It was a little corny, but I could tell he was trying to be sweet, so I decided not to say anything about it.
As we began eating, our conversation moved easily over light and casual topics. We talked about living in the city, our favorite places to eat, our go-to coffee orders, things like that. Cooper was easy to talk to and seemed interested in what I had to say. I still couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was just putting on a show so I’d feel more comfortable, but I tried not to think about it too much. Despite the butterflies still fluttering in my stomach, I was having a good time, and I wasn’t about to let my personal anxieties get in the way of that.