I imagine him ordering me to do all sorts of things in this bedroom and me liking it very much. I back away into the bathroom and lean against the door, breathing heavily. It’s like he can touch me with his words. Against my better judgment, I slip the T-shirt over my head.
He says nothing when I climb into bed next to him. I notice he sleeps on the right side of the bed, closest to the door. When my back hits the mattress, I release a moan of pleasure.
“How long has it been?”
“Months.”
He grunts. “Who was he?”
“Who was who?”
“The guy you were sleeping with months ago.” He sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth. When I look at him, it’s too dark to tell if his eyes are even open.
“What are you talking about?”
“What’s this ‘months’ you are referring to?”
“That’s how long it’s been since I’ve slept on anything but the pullout.” I shake my head. “How long has it been for you?”
“I sleep in a real bed every night, bunny,” he says with obvious amusement.
“Ha. Ha. Fine.” I turn over on my side and thump my pillow. “It’s probably yesterday. FYI, I’m an only child. I don’t like to share.”
“Back at you,” he says. “I’m not fond of the idea of you sleeping with anyone else ever again.”
I don’t fall asleep immediately because having a man in bed with me is just strange. I hardly ever slept with Colin, my one serious boyfriend, and the few random hookups since him didn’t warrant a sleepover. Sleeping with someone can be more intimate than f**king him.
“Ever again?”
“Ever again.” He confirms in a husky voice, knowing immediately what I’m talking about.
“Ever seems like a long time, or is that a rich person’s term for like six months?”
He chuckles. “You define the length of time that makes you feel comfortable, bunny.”
“I can’t decide if ‘bunny’ is a term of endearment or an insult.”
“Endearment.”
“Seems kind of insulting sometimes. I need to pick out a nickname for you.”
“I thought I was Bruce Wayne.”
Ian rolls me to my side and begins to rub my back, his hand underneath my shirt, lightly stroking my shoulder blades, tracing my spine, and then sweeping back up again. It feels good and would be non-sexual if not for the hard-on the size of the Empire State Building pressed against my ass.
“That’s not insulting in any way.”
“You’re right. I like being compared to a superhero.”
“But you call me ‘bunny.’ That’s not kick-ass or super in any way.”
“You looked like a scared bunny the day I saw you outside the wig shop. You wanted to come with me but were afraid, and you hopped on your bike and rode away.” He sounds so smug, but I’m tired. The feel of his hand as it rubs away the pains of my long bike ride is too good to mount a protest against. “I appreciate the Bruce Wayne imagery, and I have to tell you I’ve always wanted the Batmobile.”
“You can’t buy that with all your money?”
“Unfortunately no. Technology hasn’t advanced that far yet.”
“So if I ever come into a lot of money, the perfect gift for the man who has everything is a Batmobile?”
“Don’t forget the butler. I want Alfred, too. Steve is no Alfred.”
“I’m telling Steve that the next time I see him.” I can barely force the words out as I get drowsier with each pass of his hand.
“You do that. And tell him I want him to start dressing like a butler and referring to me as ‘sir.’”
“Do you think he’ll change his behavior?”
“Yeah, I think he’ll become more of a prick.”
“If you don’t like him, why do you employ him?”
“Who says I don’t like him?” Ian pulls me snug against his body. I feel his hard chest around my back and the massive boner wedged even tighter against my ass. He throws one arm around my waist. A heavy calf slides over my legs, and I’m pinned down like a butterfly on a mat. And it feels great. “I f**king love Steve, but he’s got two emotional settings: stoic and a little less stoic.” His quiet laugh ruffles my hair.
As I’m falling asleep against the cave of his body, I whisper, “I don’t get you.”
“I’m going to tell you a little bedtime story, bunny. Once upon a time I was in Japan and I discovered this plastics company. I knew after the first tour of that company that I had to have it. They were manufacturing plastics using clean energy and in a safer way than I’d ever come across. I begged, cajoled, and finally bought my way in. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made and one that I arrived at in a day.” He pulls me even tighter to him, if that’s possible. “This is how I’m wired. By the way, I haven't been with another woman since I saw you on the street.”
And then I’m dead to the world. His words run around my head as I sleep, but I can’t process their meaning even though I know he’s telling me something really important.
Chapter 16
WHEN I WAKE UP, I AM hot and aroused. There are two fingers between my legs rubbing the lace of my panties in circles, and at my back there is a furnace of male flesh.
“I thought we weren’t having sex until tonight,” I say, sounding a bit like Marilyn Monroe—all breathy sexuality. His chest rumbles behind me as he chuckles.
“We’re not.” But his fingers are playing out a different story. As they circle and press, I push back against the thick length snugged against my butt.
“It feels like sex.” It feels hard and long, actually, and despite the fight we had the night before and my lack of surety about what Ian really wants from me, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything other than the languorous feelings he’s generating with such simple movements.
“No, this feels like sex.” On the last word, he presses the tips of his fingers inside me, the fabric of the panties restricting him to shallow thrusts. Whimpering, I open my legs hoping for deeper penetration. I mean, he’s here. Why not use him?
Pulling my left leg back over his hip, he shoves the fabric aside and slowly pushes his middle two fingers all the way inside me until I can feel the palm of his hand rest against my clit. His palm stays there almost motionless, the heel against my sensitive extrusion, while his fingers scissor and stroke inside me until he finds that soft little sponge of flesh that makes me gasp out loud.