by Joya Ryan
“Well, I’m here for your every need.” It came out as casual, but he meant it.
“I was wondering if there was a plan for next time. Or is that something to discuss?”
He searched his brain and recalled her application. “You work in marketing, right?”
She frowned. “Yes. I’m at the Wayne Firm, but I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
“You like a plan. Structure. Data crunching to find and sell the best possible outcome. Yet you came in here wanting to be taken over.” In the real world, she seemed to cling to control, and the walls she’d built around herself. It was no wonder she was finding it difficult to embrace spontaneity, and surrendering to another person.
“Like I said, that’s the fantasy.”
Did she really not have a single person to hang out with? Talk with? Take her to lunch? The thought was a sour one for him. A woman with her charm, her beauty, her kindness…she deserved someone who would cherish her.
At least in the club, he could provide her fantasy.
“The man that walks into that room to take you is on your time, sweetheart. If you want something, tell me. We can make it happen. You want a plan? Something specific? Let me know and I’ll arrange it.”
She glanced at her hands in her lap. “It’s not so much that I need a plan. Like you guessed, I have all the organization I need in my real life. I really do want Myth to take over. And he did.” She shook her head and smiled at the ceiling.
Nolan felt a surge of pride at the thought that maybe she was recalling their time together. “Go on,” he said.
“Something came out in me that made me push him to be harder and rougher. I like how he took over. I just wonder if there was more I could do.”
He took a deep breath and tamped down all the things he wanted to say. Instead, he wanted to hear her say what she’d experienced.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened? How you felt. Your point of view.”
She bit the inside of her lip as if to keep from smiling. “He was very skilled at everything he did.”
“Like what?” He had never wanted to hear a woman talk so much. He sat there, falling over himself to listen to every word. He knew she had it in her. He’d been there when she’d talked to him blindfolded and begged for more.
“Like going down on me. Touching me,” she admitted.
“So, he ate your pussy well?”
A hint of a blush traced her cheeks, but she recovered quickly. “Yes, he did.”
He gave himself a mental high five.
But when her eyes met his, he knew he was in trouble, because there was much, much more going on behind those gems. She wanted something, and without knowing what she’d ask for, he already knew he’d deliver.
He just hoped to God she wouldn’t stop talking now. Myth could have it all, but talking was all Nolan was going to get.
…
The minute Nolan’s thick words hit Ava’s ears, it was like a stroke against her clit. Silly maybe. But just him asking if she’d liked Myth going down on her got her hot. The way he said it was direct and no different than asking about her favorite ice cream.
He was accustomed to personal boundaries not existing. Um, hello, he worked in a sex club. She’d learned right away that he was honest and demanded the same in return, from anyone he interacted with.
So she’d talk. Tell him honestly how she felt. Why not? He was a professional if nothing else. Granted, he could make panties melt with a single grin and wink, but that wasn’t the issue. After all, it wasn’t him she was sleeping with, and that boundary made her believe his concern for her was genuine. He was her go-to ear for venting, communicating, and learning.
Talking was one thing she’d done in her scene with Myth, but in that regard, there was no give and take. Part of her wished she could hear her mystery lover say the kind of words Nolan said to her. Nolan was uninhibited and blunt. But the casual charm paired with the predatory gleam in his eyes made her flush.
She glanced around. This was a sex club. Something Nolan likely partook in regularly, just like she’d partaken. No reason to be shy, or put too much emphasis on anything.
She had questions and wants, and he’d said he’d help her with that. All she had to do was ask.
“I know that Myth won’t talk, and that makes sense,” she started. “Part of me wants to hear something, though. I don’t know…” She waved her hand in the air.
“You like dirty talk?” Nolan guessed.
She nodded. “Yeah. I know that can’t happen with him, but I’ve never been talked to in an explicit way.”
He leaned in. “Knowing what you want is a good thing. And admitting it is better. But asking for it is gold. Your partner may not be able to speak, but if you want dirty talk, I can give you something to take into the scene with you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Just say the word.”
“I want that, Nolan.”
He grinned in a sexy way that made his blue eyes shine, and she felt like she’d just shaken hands with the devil.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
“Yes.” Though it didn’t make sense why he was asking. They were sitting in a shadowy corner and weren’t going to do anything…right? Not that she hadn’t thought about Nolan, or his body and incredibly chiseled face. But these boundaries were in place for a good reason.
“So you like explicit?” he said, his hand resting on the cushion beneath her, barely a millimeter away from brushing against her thigh. Crap, he wasn’t even touching her and she was getting instant tremors. She glanced at the small space between his hand and her thigh. So close, but so far. Crazy thing was, her body was responding.
“Look at me,” he said in an authoritative tone.
Her gaze snapped to his, and her body zinged with anticipation.
He leaned close to her. “I asked you a question, Ava.”
She licked her lips, realizing just now how close his were getting to hers. “Yes. I like explicit.”
“And you liked what your man gave you?”
She nodded.
“You said he ate your pussy well.” He tilted his head. If he were a few inches closer, his nose would skim her neck. But he wasn’t. Still, she could visualize it. Just the image sent a dose of heat between her legs. “But he couldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear…”
“No,” she murmured. “He couldn’t.”
Between his thick voice and close-but-so-far-away touch, she was going a little stir crazy. She didn’t remember when she’d become wet, but Nolan seemed to have that effect.
“I bet you’re a tasty thing, sweetheart.”
Her entire spine shuddered.
“Your mystery man may not be able to speak, but I wouldn’t have set you up with him if I didn’t trust him. If I didn’t know him well. And I can tell you what I’m sure he’d say. What any man would say if they had the privilege of your body.”
She wanted to reach out and clutch the flexing bicep that was in her view. He was strong, dark, and saying all the things that yes, she wished Myth could say.
“I bet he’d say that you’re tight and so fucking hot. That you taste like honey, and the thought of your sweet pussy squeezing his tongue as you come keeps him up at night.”
Her inner walls clamped down as if his words were a thrust inside of her. God, she was already on the brink and feeling empty. Needy for more. But he gave her only words. Knowing they were the ones she’d asked for only left her aching to be filled.
“He’d want to hear you say how much you want him. Tell him how bad you ache for his cock. Beg him for it.”
She nodded.
He tsked. “Not good enough, Little Miss Anything. Say it. You want dirty talk? You have to reciprocate.”
“I…I want it.”
“What do you want?” His breath hit her earlobe, and another surge of pleasure raced through her blood.
“Him. So much.”
“I want you,” she said, and that made Nolan grin.
Her breaths were coming faster, harder, enough to make her breasts nearly pop out of the top of her dress. Her nipples had to be close to the seam, because she felt the hard bead scrape against the fabric that was subtly slinking down her chest with each inhale. She was aware of every atom of air skating over her body. His fantasy inducing words kept her on a brink of desperation.
“Not good enough. He’d be specific. He’d tell you how he’d bend you over and fuck you hard while slapping your ass. How he’d fuck you until you ached with pleasure.” His eyes glanced at her lips. “He’d tell you how he’d come in your pretty mouth…” Then at her breasts. “…or on these perfect tits.”
She licked her lips. Would he say that? Want that? She wanted to hear more. Was ready to straddle Nolan and beg him to do the things he was selling her on.
No, not Nolan. Myth. Because the mystery man wasn’t real. So long as she couldn’t see him, he remained distant. Nolan was too close and too real. She couldn’t get so lost in this fantasy that she forgot who she could be with…and who she couldn’t.
“Is this what you want to hear, sweetheart? This dirty enough for you?”
“Yes,” she gasped, surprised that her breath had left a while ago. He wasn’t touching her, and yet her entire core pulsed and ached.
“Then say it. Say what you want. All the naughty, dirty things you’re thinking. Say it out loud like you would to him.”
“I want to feel you come, swallow it down. I want to please you. I want the pleasure to hurt because it’s so good. I want you to work for it, fuck me hard, take me anywhere, however you want.”
“Yes…” he groaned “Then what?”
She couldn’t hold out anymore. Her skin felt too tight, and her words slipped past her mouth and gave sight to amazing fantasies. She closed her eyes to picture the scene. Picture Myth playing her body like Nolan had described, only in her fantasy, the gaze that looked back at her was blue and intense.
She snapped her eyes open and found Nolan staring at her.
Deep breath.
Intimate. It was a feeling she didn’t like. Intimacy led to weakness. Led to being vulnerable and easily taken over. She made a fist and fought against the phantom weight of the ring that, under the command of her ex, may as well have been a handcuff. He’d told her what to do. Where to go. Who to be.
Nolan had just watched her face, listened to her words, and strung a few sentences together that made her wet from the mere timbre of his voice alone. That was fine in a scene, because a scene wasn’t reality. A scene had an end date. Hard boundaries. But Nolan? No, he was too…real.
She blinked several times, half hating herself and half loving what had just happened. It was amazing, but too close. He was too close.
“Then what, sweetheart?”
She said the only thing she could. The only thing that reminded her why she liked things surface level and distant. Because right then, she was too near to a man she was coming to actually like.
“Then I’d leave,” she said.
She stood up, straightened her dress, and did just that. She had to get some space. She’d come here to get clarity, talk about another scene and what she wanted. Nolan had given her what she’d asked for, but he’d given it himself, and that was dangerously close to crossing her hard limit.
It took her three steps to fake the easy stride she’d perfected over the past two years, but nothing was easy about walking away from what had just happened, or the man that made her feel weak and strong at the same time.
…
What the fuck had just happened?
It was the same question Nolan had asked himself since Ava had sat in his office last week. Now sitting in the corner at Serve, watching her leave, he was back to square one.
Because when it came to her, she managed to throw him off his game and shatter his expectations to hell. He couldn’t let her leave. Not like this.
“Ava,” he called and cupped her waist to turn her to face him. “If I went too far, you can say so. That’s what your safe word is for.”
“You didn’t,” she said quickly. But her body language told a different story.
Shit, he was only trying to give her what she wanted. Say what he couldn’t say when with her in a scene. Hell, he’d say a lot more than that if he could. Like how she was amazing, and he’d never felt so spent and elated in his life than when he was inside of her.
Just sex. It’s just good sex.
Yeah, really good sex. That was why he was reeling for the woman with a brassy mouth. She was his charge. Being attracted to her came with the territory.
And if he wanted to take care of her, he needed to know her. Figure out why that flash of pain would streak through those beautiful green eyes from time to time. Figure out what made her smile, made her light up, made her crave.
Eventually, she’d move on. When that happened, he wanted her to be the satisfied, complete person she’d gone to Serve to become.
He wanted to purge her of pain and regret. For that, he’d have to make sure she left with memories of Myth. Not him.
Yeah, good plan. Time to get back to what he did best: Laid back swagger.
“I can tamp down the talk to PG-13 next time if you need it.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Please. That was barely R-rated.”
Now there was the girl he knew she could be. No way in hell would that girl let him get away with calling her out and feigning this unshakable wall of indifference.
“Well, movie ratings or not, I sense you have more you want to say,” he said.
She looked at him for a moment but didn’t say a word. Just smiled in response.
Damn, he liked her stubbornness.
He straightened his shoulders. “Why don’t I take you out to lunch tomorrow? We can chat in a place where we can actually hear each other, and you can use me however you want…purely for educational purposes, of course.”
“So, no talking about sex in public?”
“Oh, I made no promise about that.” He threw her his best smile, and she gifted him one in return. “You in?”
“Lunch…” She said the word like it was some horrific notion of commitment. After a moment of pondering, she finally said, “I guess that’s fine.”
She guessed that was fine? “Shit, sweetheart, don’t pull any punches on my ego or anything.”
She smiled, and her gaze drifted over him like he was a dessert case. Nolan found himself standing taller, even flexing a little.
“I’m sure your large ego can handle a little hardball.”
“Indeed. And I can assure you that my ego is, in fact, large, and handles hardness just fine.”
She gave a short laugh, and her smile lit something in his chest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch,” he said, then went to turn to head back to his post.
“Wait.” Her breathy voice caught his ribs like a lure and tugged him back around.
Funny how all it took was one word from her for him to instantly respond. Funny or pathetic. He wasn’t splitting hairs at this point.
“What is it?”
“I need details,” she said. “Like where to meet?”
“I have your information and phone number on the paperwork you filled out. Do I have your permission to use it?”
Her eyes sparkled. Whatever he’d just said hit a good note in her.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
He nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”
He turned to walk back toward the mouth of the elevator. He couldn’t look back, because if he stood there one more moment, verbally sparing with the sexy woman, he just might take the dirty talk to the next level.
Chapter Six
Do I have your permission…?
It was the single sentence Ava had replayed in her mind since l
ast night. She could barely sleep, barely focus on work. Lunch time was approaching, and all she could think about was that she hadn’t yet heard from Nolan.
He’d asked permission to use something personal of hers.
Sure, it was only her phone number, but he’d asked. Not controlled or demanded. It made her feel equal. Capable.
What went on at Serve was different. Exploration, passion, and uninhibited pleasure were the agenda. Outside of the club, she struggled to maintain the identity she’d worked so hard to get back from her ex. He’d never asked her opinion—much less her permission—on anything.
But that was why she was determined to be different now. The city was proving to be good for her soul, and Nolan was becoming the closest thing to a friend she had—even if he was just doing his job.
She felt silly for even thinking about what their relationship might be. This wasn’t even a date. It was just lunch. A meal. He was flirtatious, and judging by the number of female eyes constantly on him—oh yeah, she noticed—every time he walked around Serve, she guessed he wasn’t into long-term, either.
She glanced at her phone. Still no call. No text.
“I’m heading down to the café to grab a sandwich. You want one?” Cindy from one cubical over asked. She was nice, and they’d tossed spreadsheets back and forth, but nothing beyond the simple talk of business.
“Um…” Ava glanced at her phone again. It was closer to one than noon, and the feeling in her gut was something she didn’t like. It wasn’t hunger. It was hope that she shouldn’t have let herself feel. This wasn’t even a big deal. Why was she so annoyed with Nolan standing her up—
“I was thinking along the lines of pasta¸ but if you want a sandwich, I can arrange that.” Nolan’s sexy voice made her spin in her chair and look up to find him hovering over her cubical, one elbow resting on the top, looking deliciously casual and way too muscular for his own good. She’d never seen a man fill out jeans and T-shirts so well.
“You showed up?” Ava blurted, hating how shocked she sounded. She really wanted to follow up with a casual flick of her hair and study of her nails and say, “Like I care.” But she did care. And she knew it.
“I told you I would be in touch. Figured I’d come get you.” He frowned, like he was surprised she didn’t understand.
