He glares at me, smirking because he's clearly impressed with my pun.
"I won't assault you," I say. "I'll do my best to restrain my power-bottoming impulses. Does that make you feel better?"
He chuckles.
"But if you change your mind and decide you must have your way with me, then I guess I'll just have to grin and bear it … something I can go ahead and tell you I'm very good at."
I unlock the door and lead us into my unit, turning on the lights so he can check it out. He studies it for a minute.
"It's actually nice," he says.
"What were you expecting? Chains and handcuffs?"
"At least a sling."
"Oh, look, playful Jackson has come back to play. Maybe I'll get out the sling … you know … just to show you how good I look in it."
The way his eyes widen assures me he's imagining it. Maybe thinking about rubbing all over me the way he was on the dance floor while he takes me with that thick dick of his.
"Well, now I have someone for you to meet," I say. I head to the lamp beside the sofa and turn it on. I kneel down and see Charlie-boy stirring about. "He doesn't really like the light on, but I figure it keeps him from being lazy all day long. He doesn't like a lot of things, really. We have that in common."
As I kneel like this, with Jackson behind me, I imagine him taking me from behind. Dominating my ass. I imagine him needing me and doing things to me that leave me writhing in passion and pleasure.
I turn to him. "Maybe we should just do a quick tour of the bedroom. It's got the best view of my back … and when you flip me over, my front."
"Stop. I said I'd be good tonight, and I meant it."
"I'm only playing. We may not have known each other very long, but I know when you've decided to be stubborn about something, I'm not going to change your mind. But a twink can try, can't he? So why don't we compromise? Want to have a seat on the couch?"
"That sounds like a much better idea."
He walks sideways between my coffee table and the couch before sitting on the other end. I lounge across the cushions and plant my head in his lap. "There we go. That's better. I guess this is the only way I'm going to be giving you head tonight."
He looks down at me, his gaze filled with suspicion.
"I don't know why you look at me like that. What do you think I'm going to do? Tempt you into going against what you said?"
"You're already doing that, but fortunately, I have willpower."
"You must. I don't imagine it was easy to restrain yourself from acting on your attraction to guys for this long."
"Well, I was married."
"That doesn't mean much."
His brows pull together.
"Oh, please, Jackson. Don't act like that's ridiculous for me to say. People are just a bunch of cheating cheaters, and we both know it. Don't act like you never did anything with anyone in the whole time you were married."
"I didn't."
His words are serious. Dead serious.
And I believe him. In fact, he's one of the few people I've believed when they've said it.
"Then you might be the one faithful person left in the world. In my line of work, I cut hair for all sorts of people … and they're always chatty, some even braggy about their side-beef. About how clever they think they are for getting away with something. I had this guy in college. Well, he wasn't just some guy. We can call him my first official boyfriend. Christian was his name, and we were in an open relationship. Just a free-for-all. Dad kind of did whatever around Mom when we were growing up, so I figured I could get ahead of the game if I lowered my expectations. Didn't ask a man to give up everything else for me. It worked fine until one day … it was my birthday. I was turning twenty, and I came back to our place from work early because the boss at the salon I was working at said I should enjoy the day since we weren't that busy. I was so excited because I knew he had the day off, too. But when I got there, I saw there was a little surprise for me. Three other guys. All having a great time with Christian. He was fucking one of them when one of the other guys told him I was standing in the doorway, my mouth hanging open because, as you can imagine, I was a little surprised. And he turned to me and he just said, 'Oh, this is kinda a bad time.' Happy birthday to me, right?"
God, I must be drunker than I thought to have told him that story. Or maybe it's that I feel this comfortable talking to Jackson. Opening up to him about some things I don't feel comfortable sharing with anyone else.