Page 113 of Made Better Together

When he bends to rejoin our lips, I’m more prepared for him, and the kiss evolves into a give-and-take. It’s only when a shadow slinks past the wall that we stop.

“Shit, I wish we were back at my place already.” He takes a step away.

“The museum’s only open another thirty minutes. Should we just leave?”

He smiles. “Yeah, let’s go.”

We speed walk out of the front door, and the drive back to his place is charged with electricity. I can’t help but observe how his commanding approach drove our time in the hallway.

Does he notice how directive he is?

The question is burning up my brain. I hate unanswered questions, and now we’ve had three occasions that scream in my memory.

If it is what he’s into, won’t it be a good thing to get it out in the open?

Not to mention, if I leave the question in limbo, it’s going to distract me when we start fooling around again. So I steel my nerves.

“Um, Connor…can I ask you a question?”

He glances my way before turning back to the road. “Of course.”

I fidget with my seatbelt strap. “Have you…Has anyone…I guess I’ve been wondering…” Ugh, why can’t I find the right words?

His eyes stay on the road. “What? What are you wondering?”

Spit it out, Eden. “Have you ever thought you might want to be a Dom? Like in a dominant-submissive relationship?”

He whips his head to me. “Huh?”

“Bree had me read these books, and they’re wildly different from our situation, but they…triggered a connection for me.”

He blinks. “Bree? Books?” He turns back to the road, with a confused expression.

“Ignore the Bree part.” I’m doing a crap job of explaining this. “These romance books, they follow characters that have dom-sub relationships. Like it’s what they’re into sexually.”

He furrows his brow, glancing back at me briefly. “You think that’s what I’m into?”

“Not just you. Me too.”

He pauses. “You too.” The words are drawled out, and for the first time, there’s a hint of interest.

“Yes, the way you…tell me what to do, give me orders, I guess is how I would put it. I think I like it. No, I do like it.”

“Well, that’s what matters to me. What you like.”

I don’t want that to be the point of the conversation. “I mean, I appreciate that. But I…it’s not only about me.”

“Okay. Yes. I just…I do what feels instinctual. Like I’ve said, I’ve always preferred feeling like I’m in control of my…circumstances, so it does make sense that you would pick up on it.”

Part of me doesn’t really want to ask the next question, but it’s a missing piece. “Have you been like this with other women before me?”

He doesn’t answer right away, so I try to fill the silence.

“I’m just curious, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I tend to…keep everything bottled up. Private. But it’s a fair question.”

“Still. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable…”