Page 19 of Hunt You Down

Damn that smile. Perfect white teeth seemed to illuminate the room. Even though he was making fun of me, it still drove me crazy.

André took my glass, emptied it, then refilled it from a different glass bottle. After suspiciously tipping the glass to my lips, I deemed it acceptable. “Please tell me that’s red beans and rice,” I pleaded when I came up for air.

“It is. From a pack, not from scratch, but I thought you should eat something.”

He filled two plates and set one in front of me, refilling my water from the bottle.

“I hope I didn’t make it too spicy for you.”

“I don’t mind spicy.”

André grabbed his drink and slipped into the barstool next to me. “How are you feeling?”

He kissed my temple and I hummed, shoveling a forkful of the rice mixture in my mouth. Much better. “Good,” I settled for, forgetting about my earlier panic attack. It was in the past now.

André stayed quiet while we ate, only speaking up when I cleared the last bit of rice from my plate. “Do you want more?” he asked.

I pushed the plate away from me. “No, I’m stuffed. That was really good, though. Thank you.”

After noticing that he seemed to be deep in thought, I relaxed into my seat. “What are you thinking about?”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, twisting his fingers into mine. “If you’re up for it.”

My anxiety kicked up again, but I tamped it down. Ending relationships was a normal adult thing. Then again, this wasn’t even a relationship. We’d hooked up twice for Christ’s sake.

“I’ve done a lot of talking about my past lately,” I finally said. “I could do with talking about something else.”

André suggested moving to the couch, which I accepted. He sat in the corner, opening up his arms to me.

“So…” he started once I was settled. “I’ve never really done this before, but I know that this is more than a one-night stand now, and we should talk about it.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m new to this too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together.”

André let out a nervous laugh, and I wondered if I’d always get that flutter in my stomach when I heard it. It was deep and rumbly, his chest vibrating against my back. That laugh hit me in ways no other sound ever hit me before. I never wanted his laugh to fade.

“There’s something else,” he said hesitantly.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t think it’s any secret that I’m a dom, David. But given everything you’ve been through, the last thing I want to do is trigger you or make you uncomfortable.”

With my glass empty again, I handed it over to be set aside.

“I know the word, but explain what it means to you.”

I sat back and listened while André explained the ins and outs of dominance and submission. My history aside, André’s control during sex was fucking hot; I couldn’t deny that. “Dominating” and “taking control” sounded like such aggressive terms, but the more he explained it, the more I resonated with being submissive. It was like a light switch had been flipped on in my brain.

André went into so much detail, explaining anything I asked. At twenty-five, I probably should have known the answers to some of the questions he had for me, but not once did he judge me for shrugging, or asking for clarification.

“Are you okay with honorifics?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“You mean like calling you ‘Sir?’” Just saying it then made me squirm. He didn’t need to know that I’d been using it in my head already.

“That’s right. It doesn’t have to be that term specifically. It could be something you choose, or nothing at all. It’s entirely up to you. I may be dominant, but you’re the one that holds all the power.”

We finally came to an agreement about good and bad things. He pulled a list from the Internet of different areas of “play,” and we went through each one and decided what was good and what wasn’t. We talked about boundaries, and safewords.