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“It was pretty embarrassing when I pulled up to the gas station after waiting in line for twenty minutes only to find I had no way to pay for it.”
My attention is so focused on what I’m doing, that I don’t think about where he’s looking. I hear things being moved on my dining table, then the kitchen counter. I’m positive he won’t find it there, but I Iet him continue.
Unfortunately, his next stop doesn’t register as a problem until it’s too late. He’s stepped into the hallway, probably going tocheck the bathroom. In order to get there he has to pass an open door that—
“Wait, no! No!” I practically leap towards him, hoping to distract him before he looks to his right.
But that’s exactly where his eyes land on their way to me. Through the doorway, into my brightly lit bedroom.
There’s no way in that second he would miss the bright purple vibrator sitting in the middle of my white comforter.
There is nothing in the world that could ease this tidal wave of embarrassment flowing through me.
His body stiffens for a moment, so quickly it would’ve been easy to miss if my eyes weren't so intently focused on him.
“I don’t think it’s here,” he says with a gravelly voice.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I’m so embarrassed.” I’m not going to let this be one of those times where I refuse to say anything in the moment and overthink it later.
He shakes his head slightly. His jaw is clenched so tight, I can only assume he’s frustrated. How many boundaries does that cross? Where do toys fall on the list?
Fuck.What I wouldn’t give to rewind the last couple of minutes.
“No, don’t be. I’m sorry I—” He clears his throat. “I interrupted.”
That word somehow makes my embarrassment soar even higher and I start rambling.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone, and when I heard the door I should have just put it—“
Something flashes on his face, like the confirmation that I was just using it is too much for him.
“It’s okay,” he reassures, taking a step closer to me. His eyes drop to my chest to watch how quickly it’s rising and falling. “Calm down.”
All I can do is give him a small, hesitant nod. He’s one to talk, looking the opposite of calm right now. He takes another step right in front of me, and I’m still wound so tight that it’s an effort not to grab him. His cologne smells irresistible, and it is not helping.
His hand reaches up for a split second, but he drops it before touching me. I hate that I snapped at him for it the other day.
“I should go,” he says.
I try not to look as deflated as I feel. “Right. Yeah.”
“Work,” he explains.
“Right,” I say again.
I’m staring at his mouth now, but despite his words he doesn’t move away from me.
“It’s not because of you.” I tilt my head up to meet his eyes and catch that they move up from my lips too. I feel like I could burst into flames right here. “I mean, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…”
“Rules?”
He nods once.
If only I had the courage to tell him I don’t care about the fucking rules right now.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I ask instead. It’s not me talking, it’s my desperately horny alter ego. She’s going to start some problems that I’m not sure I’m ready for.
He shakes his head, but I think it’s an answer to his own internal argument.
