Page 108 of Johnny

And holy shit. His smile is big, and wolfish, and hungry. “Got it in one.”

“How come you don’t mind when I say ‘cock?’”

He leans in, soft mouth nibbling my ear, and whispers, “Because a dirty mouth isn’t the same thing

as dirty talking. I really like the dirty talk. And if you’re really sincere about asking me why now, why you? Well, then let me take this opportunity to convince you my offer is well thought out and real.”

My mouth is open. My heart is racing. My nipples are tight and the sweet spot between my legs is

throbbing. I suck in a breath and hold it.

“I want to untie that little string bikini I bought for you this afternoon, throw it out to sea, wrap your

legs around my middle, stick my thick, hard cock up inside you, and then fuck you slowly in the light

of the moon.”

I breathe out. “We might drown.”

He bites my earlobe. His feet making underwater waves as he keeps us afloat.

“Sometimes the price of victory is high. But I promise you, it won’t end in drowning. All you have

to do is say yes.”

I want to say yes. I wanted him to make this move last night. I thought he would make this move last

night. So why am I hesitating?

Maybe it’s because he’s thrown me some curveballs today. Starting with all that chastising about

swearing, then the uncharacteristic self-doubt in the restaurant, then he changed the plan and gave me

presents… and tied that ribbon around my wrist like he was claiming me as his.

Jesus Christ. I’m delusional.

But all that does actually add up to something and it could be this… gesture.

Or offer. Or whatever it is he’s doing.

It doesn’t add up.

“Or,” he says, his fingers tugging on one of the strings holding my bottoms on until it comes loose,

“you could just tell me no when you want me to stop, if that’s the way you play submit.”

“Submit?” I laugh. But his hand is already tugging on the other string. And the next thing I know I’m

not wearing bottoms anymore.

They’re floating free somewhere down below me. A thing of the sea now.

He just keeps going. His hands reach up to the rhinestone clasp between my breasts, opening it in

one swift, well-practiced move, and they’re free, his palms squeezing them tight until I let out a small

moan.