She shook her head. “See, the thing is, I’m not. Submissive I mean. I can’t deny you turn me on like no one I’ve ever met, but I’m not usually like this. I’m strong and independent. I don’t take shit from anyone. I don’t even ask for help. I’ve spent my entire life making up for how small I am and the fact that I’m female and Latina. Three strikes against me. But I was born feisty. I rarely ask for help. I figure things out for myself and stand as tall as I can.”
His smile was so warm. “I know that, baby girl. You’re not an anomaly. Many submissives are actually very strong in their regular lives. It’s not unusual at all. But it’s a lot of weight to carry around, always being in control of every damn thing, isn’t it?”
She shrugged.
“So it’s common for people to enjoy a break. Turn over all that power to someone else for a few hours. I realize that night we spent together was probably the first time you’d ever experienced that kind of release. Didn’t it feel amazing?”
“Yes,” she whispered, barely able to agree with him. This conversation was so deep, bordering on embarrassing. And like everything else, Libby didn’t embarrass easily. Or at least she didn’t show it or admit it. She met his gaze. “I don’t let people boss me around. It’s out of my comfort zone.”
He lifted a brow. “Except your mom. You let her choose who you date,” he pointed out.
She sighed. “Okay. There is that. But I’m really just humoring her. What harm is there in a bunch of blind dates? I’ve always figured eventually she might get it right. I don’t even have to put out any effort.”
He chuckled. “Has she gotten it right?”
“No. Never.”
“Are all the men she sets you up with as cocky as that Eddie guy from last night?”
“Usually, yes. And I have struggled a bit trying to figure out how you’re different. But you are. Your dominance makes me want to…”
“Obey?” he offered, his brows lifted.
She scrunched up her face. “I guess.”
He took her hand gently in one of his and rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb. “Because my kind of dominance is about bringing you pleasure. I get off on your arousal. It’s not all about me.”
She nodded. “That’s exactly it. That’s why I flirted with you. I was kind of desperate to find out what it felt like to have sex with someone more into me. Or maybe I’m just more into you because you’re different.”
“Are you seeing this Eddie guy again?”
She shook her head. “No. That was a disaster.” She shuddered as she remembered him dropping her off last night. He’d wanted to come inside, and she’d feigned exhaustion and managed to put him off. The hardest part about dating random men was then explaining to them later that she didn’t want a second date because she just wasn’t that into them. Some took it better than others. And, of course, sometimes they weren’t into her either. Easy.
“How often does your mom set you up?” His gaze narrowed and he shifted his weight on his stool.
“As often as I let her. It makes her happy. Gives her hope.”
“That’s pretty fucked-up, Libby.” He looked away, grabbing his soda and taking a long drink.
She winced, realizing her situation with her mother sounded far more ridiculous out loud. Obviously, Jason wasn’t impressed with her weakness when it came to her mother. He must think I’m the most pathetic woman alive. “I know. Pitiful. It keeps the peace. And like I said, perhaps one day she’ll find a good one. Somebody I can live with for the long haul.” The more she spoke, the more nervous she felt. How had she become such a pushover?
“Live with?” He jerked, his spine straightening. “That’s the extent of your life aspirations? Finding a man you can tolerate for fifty years? I feel sorry for that poor bastard.”
Libby scrunched up her face and dipped her head. “You sound like Destiny.”
“Destiny’s a smart woman. You should listen to her. I can’t believe you would even entertain the idea of settling for such a low bar.” He leaned back, putting some space between them, and ran a hand through his hair. She’d obviously struck a nerve. And she had no one to blame but herself.
On the flip side, Libby also felt defensive. He didn’t know her well enough to judge her. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re not. But I’m not interested in rocking the boat with my mom right now. Dating the men she sets me up with keeps the peace and keeps her off my back. I get tired of listening to her complain about how old I’m getting and how many grandchildren she doesn’t have.”
Jason stared at her for a moment and then shoved from the island and stood. He gathered up their plates and put them in the dishwasher and then set the box of pizza in the fridge on top of the other box.
She fidgeted nervously while she watched him.
Finally, he turned to face her, setting his hands on the island across from her. “Look, I get that we hardly know each other. We didn’t exchange more than a dozen words before tonight. But I’d like to find out where this thing between us might go. I’d like to take you into my room and remind you how damn good we are together. And I can’t believe I’m going to say this because such words have never left my lips before, but I’m not hip on sharing you with other guys.”
Libby could hardly breathe. Everything about this evening was so unexpected. He had no idea how his oddly possessive words affected her. However, she was in no position to commit to anything serious with him. It had never even occurred to her before. A white guy. Military. The visualization of bringing him to meet her family made her cringe.
Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit. Okay. You need time to process what I’ve said. I get that. I sprung this on you and you weren’t expecting it. Hell, I wasn’t either. When I asked you to come over tonight, I pictured laughing over pizza. Flirting. Teasing. And then fucking hard until the sun came up. I didn’t mean to let it get all serious. I’m sorry. But it turns out I’m not feeling it.”
She flinched. “Not feeling it?” she blurted, interrupting him. Was he suddenly not into her? That made no sense.
He shook his head. “Let me finish. What I mean to say is that I’m into you. It doesn’t feel casual to me. My skin was crawling when I saw you with another man.”
She swallowed. “Jason, we just met. I’m—”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “I know. I get it. Under normal circumstances, I would wholeheartedly agree. But we have chemistry between us. This is the fourth time I’ve been in your presence, and it’s still there.” He set his elbows on the island and leaned in closer.
She held her breath.
“I want to take you to my bedroom and dominate you until you scream in pleasure. I want to strip off your clothes, spank your bottom, and fuck you so hard you forget everything but how it feels to have me inside you. And I think you want the same thing. I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t. You had to put effort into getting my phone number. You made a conscious decision to drive here. You’re sitting in my kitchen telling me things I bet you don’t often reveal to other people.” His voice softened. “You’re also squirming on that stool and chewing on your bottom lip. You’re free to leave any time. I’m not holding you here against your will. If you want to stay, I’m going to strip your clothes off and rock your world. If you want to leave, I won’t hold it against you.”
She stared at him wide-eyed. “But you want me to agree to be exclusive with you…”
“Yes. I realize we started this relationship off with intimacy, but it was fucking amazing, and I’m not going to share you. The random blind dates have to stop while you’re in my bed.”
He had no way of knowing that she didn’t sleep around. It wasn’t like she would have gone to another man’s bed. She never slept with any of her blind dates. She wasn’t the sort of woman who slept with anyone on the first date anyway.
Except Jason. Shit. Fuck. Right. Except Jason… And they hadn’t gone on any dates at all when she first slept with him. Did he
understand that?
It seemed like she needed to explain better. “I’ve only slept with three men before you, Jason. None recently. In all three cases, I was in a relationship with them. Exclusive. None of them lasted long, probably because the sex was bad.” She added that last part on a murmur.
“The sex with me will never be bad, baby girl.” The promise in his tone made her shudder. God, she loved it when he spoke to her like that.
This entire evening had been about her. She knew nothing about his family or why he’d left the military recently or what he did for a living. She feared the more she learned about him the more she would like him. That hadn’t really been in the cards. At least that’s what she’d told herself. Maybe she’d secretly hoped for more, but she hadn’t had any way to picture anything beyond amazing sex so far.
“So, you want to see what my bedroom looks like? Or would you rather end the evening right now?”
There was no turning him down. Not a chance. He made her heart beat fast, her clit throb, and her pussy weep. She didn’t have the foggiest idea how she would get out of her mother’s constant setups, but she would figure something out. “I’d like to see your bedroom, please.”
He smiled as he rounded the island and came to her. He spun her stool around so they were face to face, and then he cupped her cheeks in his palms and lowered his mouth. The moment their lips touched, she melted. He was a damn good kisser. Assertive without being pushy. Confident in a way he had earned. She let him guide her, responding to every lick and suck with her own exploration.
She flattened her palms on his rock-hard chest, melting against him. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Even that one simple thing was different with him. She was on fire, wishing he wouldn’t bother with the bedroom and strip her right here in the kitchen.
When he broke the kiss, she was breathless and aroused.
He slid his hands down to her shoulders and then lower to span her waist. His palms were so large that his thumbs grazed the undersides of her breasts as he spoke again. “I know you work weird hours and days, but I want to see you in between.”
“I’d like that.” She really would. As stressful as this night had been so far, she wanted to see him every chance possible.
“Send me your schedule.”
“Okay.”
He stepped closer, nudging her knees apart. “When you’re here in my home, you’re mine.”
And that did it. Her pussy wept, her arousal soaking the inside of her jeans. Her breasts ached. She had a sudden urge to squeeze them. The intense look on his face alone pushed her over the edge.
“Yes, Sir.” Holy. Shit. Those words slipped out without her consideration. They just happened.
Jason looked beyond pleased. “That’s my girl. Now, while I finish cleaning up the kitchen, you go find my room. Take everything off. I want you on your hands and knees on the edge of my bed, sideways, your sweet bottom offered up for my palm.”
“Yes, Sir.” The words were far breathier that second time but spoken with confidence all the same. She slid off the stool and made her way toward the opening to the hallway she’d seen on the other side of the living room.
She was filled with a combination of fear and longing. She was really going to do this. Submit to this powerful man. A man she was falling for. She needed to keep her head on straight and guard her heart. Surely this couldn’t be more than a fling. A way to get him out of her system. She wasn’t sure how long that might take, but she needed to remind herself often. Nothing else was believable. She’d heard of people meeting and instantly falling hard enough for each other to bang every chance they got. She was also realistic enough to know it wasn’t sustainable. She wouldn’t dare hope for something like that.
For now, all that mattered was finding his room and letting go of her control. She didn’t need to question the sex. It would be phenomenal. She shivered when she remembered he intended to spank her. But she’d suspected that from his text. She’d been curious ever since. Her nipples were swollen and needy, abrading against the lace of her bra.
With a deep breath, she entered his room and soaked in his surroundings. The kitchen and living room had told her nothing about him. This room, however, was finished. It had a strong masculine feel. The huge bed was the focal point, high off the ground with four posts. She shuddered, imagining what kinds of things he might do with those posts.
After a quick perusal of his mahogany furniture, his navy bedding, and the gorgeous hardwood floors, she quickly removed all her clothes and hoisted herself up onto his bed, getting into the position he’d requested.
She was really doing this. Decisively. This wasn’t like their “one-night stand.” She was now consciously and intentionally submitting to the only man who’d ever made her heart beat as fast as it was right now.
Chapter 8
Jason took his time cleaning the kitchen. There wasn’t really anything else to do. He was stalling to give Libby a few moments alone. He knew she was rattled. She would need to gather her thoughts and have some time to undress.
He also knew she would follow his orders.
This evening had not gone quite as he’d expected. Not even close. He had fully intended to spend time getting to know her on a more personal level because he did honestly like her, but he hadn’t expected to demand exclusivity. That had snuck up on him. It was crazy enough that he wanted Libby to spend the night in his bed. He had no idea where his possessive instinct came from. He was heading into dangerous territory. The last woman he trusted with his heart stomped on it and made a fool out of him. He swore he would never let something like that happen to him again. He would not.
Were there red flags flying? Yes. But he wasn’t as naïve as he’d been three years ago. He was also smarter and more hardened. He just needed to be careful. Keep his eyes open.
Libby is not Veronica, he reminded himself, shaking the unwelcome thoughts from his mind.
He was still reeling at the idea that Libby’s parents, her mom in particular, seemed to have as much control over her as they did. She was twenty-eight years old. A grown woman. Educated. Intelligent. Outspoken. Strong. The whole package. How was she still under her mother’s thumb?
Part of him was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t seen him as more than a hot fuck. How ironic. I finally meet a woman who makes me look twice, and she pulls a one-eighty on me and wants nothing but sex?
He smiled as he wiped off the counter. Serves me right. How many times have I been in the opposite situation?
Truth be told, although he hadn’t contacted her for the last six months since their night together, she’d been on his mind. She’d featured in many of his dreams. He’d begun to think he’d exaggerated their night together, blown it out of proportion. And then he’d seen her last night, and instantly he’d been reminded that what he’d experienced had been real.
He’d actually been a little bitter that she’d left without a word that morning. Irrationally, since he’d been known to do the same thing on occasion, and who the hell was he that the tables couldn’t be turned on him? It humbled him.
He understood. It made sense that she would assume their night had been a one-off. He’d thought the same thing at first, too. It was easier for her to sneak out and avoid the awkward morning after. He got that. It was the reason he hadn’t called her.
But now. Jesus. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, trying to rein in his reactions to her. There was no doubt he understood her better, and nothing she’d said had made him back off. In fact, if anything, he viewed her as even more of a challenge.
Your mother doesn’t let you date white guys?
He smirked in his mind. We’ll just see about that.
He couldn’t believe he’d given her an ultimatum, halfway through their first real date. Their one-night stand couldn’t count because they hadn’t exchanged enough words to know anything about each other. What they had learned, however, was far more important in his book. They h
ad chemistry like no one he’d ever been with.
Nevertheless, he was surprised by his insistence that she not date anyone else. The words had flown out of his mouth before he could stop them. On top of that, he had no regrets. He probably shouldn’t feel this possessive, but he did. He didn’t own the woman after one night of fucking and a half-date.
Except he did. At least for now. He did own her.
And he was about to show her what it meant to be owned by him.
After a last quick glance around the kitchen, he took a deep breath and padded toward his bedroom.
The moment he rounded the corner, his breath hitched. She was exactly where he’d told her to be, on her hands and knees on the edge of the bed, her fantastic ass waiting for his palm.
She was also shivering. Not surprising.
He stepped up behind her, set his palms on her sexy bottom and molded his fingers to her skin, squeezing and releasing so she would relax. “Has anyone ever spanked you before?”
“No,” she whispered. Her glorious hair hung down to shield her face. He considered gathering it back and putting a band on it but then decided to give her that curtain for now. A small sense of privacy that might help calm her nerves.
“I can smell your arousal, little one.”
Her sweet little body shuddered and she inched her knees together.
He tapped her thighs. “Spread open for me.”
Her breath hitched delightfully as she obeyed him.
“Farther, baby girl. Knees wide. I want you to feel the vulnerability.” He continued to rub her smooth skin as she did his bidding. “Good girl. I bet you’re soaking wet.”
She whimpered.
God, she was precious. Every inch of her. He’d been with plenty of women over the years and none had grabbed him so thoroughly by the balls as Libby. He wanted to shrug out of his jeans and fuck her sweet little pussy right now.
Instead, he would spank her until she fully understood what it meant to feel his palm on her bottom, and then he would make her come so hard she screamed. Only then would he slide his cock into her heat. It would be worth the wait.
Layover (Open Skies Book 1) Page 6