“Yeah, Addie, I have. I like control in bed. I like punishment and discipline and sometimes restraints. But only if a woman’s into it and I know those things will get her off hard. But I’ve had plenty of vanilla as well.”
“But you prefer the other stuff. The kink, the spanking, and control.”
“Yes.”
He was searching my eyes again. “And you just assumed I was into that stuff or…” I didn’t know how to finish.
“You done anything like that, the stuff we do, with anyone else, cupcake?”
I grinned, trying to keep the conversation light, even though the subject matter was far from it. “My last relationship was my high school boyfriend, then a few random one-night stands, so no.”
“You thought about it, though, yes? When you get yourself off? When you use those toys. You imagine someone holding you down or telling you what to do, don’t you, Addie?”
I swallowed, my mouth dry and my stupid face hot again. “Yes.” I hadn’t thought about it, but in the moment, when I got myself off the hardest, it was imagining being held down, and the last few months, I’d imagined Manic doing it.
I thought about all the times we’d talked over the last year, how he’d sometimes say things in a certain way. Little orders.
Finish your drink for me, Addie, and I’ll get you another.When I was at a club party.
I want to see you eat all that cake, cupcake, every last bit. You’ve been busy all night.When I was catering a club wedding.
Sit down, Addison, I don’t want you falling on the fucking floor and hurting yourself.When I was tipsy at the bar.
On their own, it didn’t seem like much, but the list went on and on. A demand, followed by a reward, praise, or some form of care-taking. They were small things, nothing that would tip me off to Manic’s preferences. But every time he’d done it, I’d obeyed, without question. God, eagerly. He’d known what I wanted before I did.
“You were testing me? Feeling me out? All those little orders you casually dropped…” I said and wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
His expression still hadn’t changed. “Yeah, and no. I already wanted you. If you’d wanted it vanilla, I would’ve been just as hot for you. I will say, though, that knowing you like what I do is fucking awesome. But I didn’t really need to feel you out, Adds. When I gave you those little orders, it was because it turned us both on, it was foreplay. I could see it even when you were in denial, even when you wouldn’t give into it. All I had to do was watch you, though, my wild girl, raising hell, causing trouble, to know what you wanted. You were fucking begging for someone to hold you down, to stop you from spinning.”
I was speechless, not something that happened often. His words hit me hard. I searched for something to say, but nothing would come. He’d read me so thoroughly, called me out on things I hadn’t realized I was doing, craving, but now seemed so obvious. My belly gripped tight and the panic tried to push forward. But when I looked into Manic’s eyes, he kept me grounded without even knowing he was doing it.
“What are you thinking, cupcake?” he asked when my silence dragged out.
He wanted more from me, he wanted deeper. I couldn’t give him that, not when this wasn’t going to last. I had to protect my heart.
I couldn’t let myself fall back into Levi Smith fantasyland. He wasn’t myone.I wasn’t looking forthe one. I couldn’t have that without sharing all the pain I carried around. Not without letting someone see the truth that I worked so hard to hide.
And not without opening myself up to a world of hurt all over again.
He wanted to know what I was thinking? I couldn’t give him that. Giving him more of me would be a terrible mistake. “I was thinking, man, is this guy cocky. You think you have me all figured out, huh?”
He studied me for several long seconds, then the serious expression dropped, and he grinned. “Not even a little. Women confuse the fuck out of me.”
I chuckled, relieved that he’d let it drop.
He sipped his coffee, then rested his elbows on the table. “You were restless last night, Adds, cried out in your sleep. You have a nightmare?”
The sudden change of subject froze me in place. I had the same dream I’d been having since I was twelve years old. It had started right after the house fire. The nightmares had stopped for a long time but started again after I lost Macy. “Did I? I don’t think so,” I lied. I couldn’t talk about it, what happened, and not get sucked under when I’d worked so hard to get things back under control.
“Yeah, every night we’ve been away actually. You don’t remember?” He was studying me again.
“Nope, but I’ve always been a messy sleeper,” I lied again and forced a grin. “Or so I’ve been told.”
“I like you messy,” he said, his voice dipping, and grinned back. It was utterly wicked.
I laughed, and this time it was genuine, now that I’d steered the conversation away from the danger zone. “I noticed.”
His phone rang, and he looked at the screen. His grin widened. “Ham, brother, what’s going on?”