Page 91
Story: The Faking Game
“Thank you so much,” I tell the waiter and smile widely at him. “This looks delicious.”
He hesitates for a second, blinking at me. He looks young. Probably still in high school. “Thank you.”
“Tell the chef, will you?”
“Will do. Thanks. Again.” He smiles a bit and then hurries away.
Across from me, West chuckles darkly. “You just made his night.”
“With a simple compliment?” I shake my head and flip over the card I’m still holding.
“By being the most beautiful woman who’s ever smiled to him,” West says.
The compliment rolls through me like a thunderstorm.
He didn’t say it with his fake voice, his acting voice. He said it matter-of-factly. A little amused. Darkly pleased. Like he means it. “You were talking about pain, and I’m very interested in where you were going with it.”
I clear my throat.Right.“I don’t think I like it,” I say. “Pleasure is hard enough to come by, and I don’t see how mixing in pain helps. But I’ve never tried it, so what do I know? What about you?” My question comes out a little breathless.
I have insight into West’s sex life. Into what he likes and doesn’t like. And he’ssharingit with me, talking openly about it, and I suddenly understand completely why this is something he insisted on.
It’s a terrifying conversation.
And it’s exhilarating.
“I don’t like inflicting pain,” he says. “I don’t mind it on my part, and if you want to scratch my back with your nails, I’ll wear the marks proudly. It’ll let me know you’re enjoying yourself. Rough sex, sure, but no pain. I want my partner to come. Repeatedly.”
I nod at West too many times. “That’s good… to know.” I run a hand along my neck. My skin feels hot beneath my thick hair. “I’m not sure if I have a ton of kinks.”
“Everyone has something.”
Maybe everyone does. Everyone who’s actually had sex. I’ve only fantasized about it. Formed my opinions based on books, and movies, and my own touch. That’s something, at least.
“I like… a lot of things.”
The skin around his eyes crinkles. “How descriptive.”
“Maybe I haven’t explored a lot of kinks.”
“No shame in that. What would you want to try?”
I’m quiet for a few moments, my brain racing.
West’s mouth tips into that smile again. The challenging one, the one he gave me when we boxed the other week.Come on. Hit me.“It’s okay to be vanilla, trouble. You can own that. You don’t need to think of something just to impress me.”
“I’m nottryingto impress you, Calloway.”
West chuckles. “Of course not. Not me. But we’re pretending I’m someone you’re dating. Someone whose opinion you care about. Even if they push you on something, you can still say no. Or stand by your first answer.”
“I know that.” I roll my neck and try to shake it off. He’s right. Of course he’s right. It sounds so natural and so true when he says it. I just can’t get there on my own. “I don’t think I would mind, actually, a bit of roughness… if it was someone I trusted. Someone I liked.” I take a deep breath, needing this conversation to end before I embarrass myself completely.
I’ve thought about how you’d feel on top of me. I want you to praise me more. I want you to do it while I come. Is that a kink?
“Okay. You take a card,” I say.
He does just that, his broad hand between us on the table. “Well,” he says, his voice darkening. “This one will definitely come up when you’re in a relationship.”
“It will?”
He hesitates for a second, blinking at me. He looks young. Probably still in high school. “Thank you.”
“Tell the chef, will you?”
“Will do. Thanks. Again.” He smiles a bit and then hurries away.
Across from me, West chuckles darkly. “You just made his night.”
“With a simple compliment?” I shake my head and flip over the card I’m still holding.
“By being the most beautiful woman who’s ever smiled to him,” West says.
The compliment rolls through me like a thunderstorm.
He didn’t say it with his fake voice, his acting voice. He said it matter-of-factly. A little amused. Darkly pleased. Like he means it. “You were talking about pain, and I’m very interested in where you were going with it.”
I clear my throat.Right.“I don’t think I like it,” I say. “Pleasure is hard enough to come by, and I don’t see how mixing in pain helps. But I’ve never tried it, so what do I know? What about you?” My question comes out a little breathless.
I have insight into West’s sex life. Into what he likes and doesn’t like. And he’ssharingit with me, talking openly about it, and I suddenly understand completely why this is something he insisted on.
It’s a terrifying conversation.
And it’s exhilarating.
“I don’t like inflicting pain,” he says. “I don’t mind it on my part, and if you want to scratch my back with your nails, I’ll wear the marks proudly. It’ll let me know you’re enjoying yourself. Rough sex, sure, but no pain. I want my partner to come. Repeatedly.”
I nod at West too many times. “That’s good… to know.” I run a hand along my neck. My skin feels hot beneath my thick hair. “I’m not sure if I have a ton of kinks.”
“Everyone has something.”
Maybe everyone does. Everyone who’s actually had sex. I’ve only fantasized about it. Formed my opinions based on books, and movies, and my own touch. That’s something, at least.
“I like… a lot of things.”
The skin around his eyes crinkles. “How descriptive.”
“Maybe I haven’t explored a lot of kinks.”
“No shame in that. What would you want to try?”
I’m quiet for a few moments, my brain racing.
West’s mouth tips into that smile again. The challenging one, the one he gave me when we boxed the other week.Come on. Hit me.“It’s okay to be vanilla, trouble. You can own that. You don’t need to think of something just to impress me.”
“I’m nottryingto impress you, Calloway.”
West chuckles. “Of course not. Not me. But we’re pretending I’m someone you’re dating. Someone whose opinion you care about. Even if they push you on something, you can still say no. Or stand by your first answer.”
“I know that.” I roll my neck and try to shake it off. He’s right. Of course he’s right. It sounds so natural and so true when he says it. I just can’t get there on my own. “I don’t think I would mind, actually, a bit of roughness… if it was someone I trusted. Someone I liked.” I take a deep breath, needing this conversation to end before I embarrass myself completely.
I’ve thought about how you’d feel on top of me. I want you to praise me more. I want you to do it while I come. Is that a kink?
“Okay. You take a card,” I say.
He does just that, his broad hand between us on the table. “Well,” he says, his voice darkening. “This one will definitely come up when you’re in a relationship.”
“It will?”
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