Page 25 of Laila Manning (Shadeport Crew #3)

I paused, forcing my lips to stay closed until I was confident that what I wanted to say wouldn’t be misconstrued.

“And what about with me?” I leaned back against the door of his car so he couldn’t open it and end the conversation before I was ready.

“Because you’re acting like I’ve done something wrong because he continuously pops up around me.

Yet all I’ve done is obsess over you since the moment I met you. ”

He stalked over to where I leaned against his sleek car before resting his forearm on the roof of the car behind me, leaning over me.

“You’ve obsessed over me?” He tilted his head to the side, and I could tell he was trying to let go of his frustration over the biker. So, I rewarded him. “Tell me how.”

Pressing my hands to his abs, I leaned into him, like I had any claim to his body or permission to touch him.

Had he not made me come hours ago on my boss’s desk, I might have stressed about it.

But not now. He made his interest known, and I was going to lean into it.

“You’ve heard me when I dream.” I tried my best to sound seductive, and judging by the way his nostrils flared slightly as I spoke, I was pretty sure I was doing a good job.

“You’ve heard me scream your name. Those weren’t nightmares, and you know it. ”

“Tell me about them.” he demanded, ignoring the busy sidewalk around us, though I was pretty sure he was still aware of every person and car moving at the same time. That was just who he was, always alert. “Tell me what happened in them.”

“Well,” I licked my lips, and his eyes fell to them as excitement burned in my belly. “The night you woke me up specifically, you were making me come.”

“Dove.” He growled, stepping closer until his hips pinned mine to the car. I didn’t fear him or the contact. I didn’t even worry about his intent or the effect I was having on him as a man.

I craved it.

I craved the power I felt when he looked at me like that .

“Do you want to know how?” I pushed, pressing my luck and testing even my own limits.

“You know I do.” He lowered his face, so his lips were right above mine. “Tell me how you came for me.”

“These lips.” I breathed against them, mustering up all my strength and courage, high on the attention he had given me all night from his seat at the bar, “Your tongue. And your hands.” I purred without even meaning to. “God, I came for you so hard.”

“Get in the car.” He growled, dusting his lips over mine as he pulled the handle on my door, “Or I’m going to show everyone on this street how fucking hard I can make you come.”

I ducked under his arm and slid into the front seat, high on adrenaline and hormones, running my hands over my legs as he shut the door behind me with a feral look in his eyes.

Did I just poke the bear until he turned into a beast?

Oops.

“What are you doing?” I froze as I took in the sight before me.

Zeke sat reclined on my couch with a packet of paper in his hands, reading.

The kink quiz.

We had gotten home from the restaurant a while ago, and thankfully or not, I’m not sure, the temperature between us had cooled down a touch on the way home. So I went and took a shower to wash the smell of alcohol off my skin while Zeke relaxed .

Or I thought he had been relaxing.

“Reading.” He replied, not even glancing up from the paper.

“Stop it.” I rushed forward and lunged for the offensive test, but he moved faster than I did and pulled it just out of reach, leaving me sprawled out across his lap, empty-handed. “Don’t read it.”

“Why?” He cocked his head to the side and moved the paper when I tried to reach for it again. “Where did you get this?”

“Carly.” I groaned, defeated, as I tried to stand up, but he was prepared and wrapped one arm around my waist, anchoring me to his lap.

He smelled so divine up close like this, and my eyelids wanted to flutter closed and give in to the feeling of his body under mine.

“Were you going to talk to me about these things?” He raised one eyebrow at me, making me still and relax in his hold.

“No,” I admitted, and his eyes widened at my answer. “I’m not kinky.” I shrugged, trying to fight the feeling of inferiority trying to come over me. “There’s nothing to tell.”

He tilted his head back and cleared his throat as he started reading from the list. “Desire to play a role or a part other than your own during intimacy.” He flicked his eyes over to me, then back to the paper, “Interested.” I winced slightly, but he wasn’t done with me yet as he read another line.

“Desire to be dominated during intimacy.” He looked right at me, “Not interested.”

“Can you stop now?” I shuddered. “I’m more than mortified.”

“Why are you mortified?” He laid the paper down on the couch next to him and put both hands on my hips like we were a couple that was comfortable with touches like this.

“Because you’re digging into my head,” I replied. “Like you always do. But I don’t want you there.”

“Why don’t you want me to get to know you? ”

“That’s not—” I stammered, “It’s not that I don’t want you to know me.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” He countered. “You don’t want me to know what you like or don’t like sexually?”

“I don’t—” I sighed. “I don’t even know what I do or don’t like.”

“Exactly.” He tilted his head to the side in that unnerving, calm and controlled way he always did. “This may be beneficial for both of us.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to stand up so I could think straight. The pajama shorts set that I put on after my shower left a little barrier between our bodies, and I couldn’t feel all of him against my skin and think at the same time.

But he wasn’t interested in letting me go and tightened his hold on my hips when I tried to move again.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I only took that stupid paper with me because they were shoving it down my throat.” I huffed.

“Did they force you to answer these questions?” He challenged.

“No.” I groaned and tilted my head back to the ceiling. “I did that after I got home from therapy. And it just further points out my shortcomings and how incompatible we are.”

His brows rose, and anger flashed behind his blue irises quickly before it disappeared. “You think we’re incompatible? Seriously? Even after what I made you feel in that office?”

“I didn’t—” I bit my lip, struggling to find the words.

“Tell me you don’t feel the connection between us, and I’ll leave you alone.” He said, and panic filled my heart instantly. “Tell me you really think we’re incompatible and I’ll never touch you again.”

“No.” I gasped and shook my head, “I don’t know how to be interesting for you. I don’t know how to give you what you need. To keep you interested. ”

He growled and wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and held me to him as he kissed me, silencing my fears.

“This.” He whispered against my lips, “Talking, sharing, and discussing what you like and don’t like, that’s how we learn what each other needs.

” He kissed me deeper as I softened in his hold, “I’m so fucking interested in you, Laila.

Just like this. I don’t need flashy kinks to get me hard.

” He rocked me forward in his lap so I could feel the proof of his words.

“I’m always fucking hard for you, Dove.”

“Zeke.” I groaned, fighting the war in my head that was trying to tell me I wasn’t good enough.

“Don’t think.” He demanded, “Just feel. Just let your body tell you what it wants.”

“Okay.” I panted, fully puddled in his hands.

“Read me another line from that test.” He said as he dropped his lips to my neck and teased the sensitive flesh there.

“Now?” I gasped, shivering as he ran the tip of his tongue from my collarbone to my ear.

“Now.” He picked the paper up and pushed it into my hand. “Be a good girl, Dove, and do what I said.”

“Jesus.” I moaned, hating and loving how his words sent jolts of electricity through my body.

“Okay.” I held the paper off to the side and tried to focus on the words as he slid his rough hands up the back of my shirt, teasing the skin right above the waistband of my shorts.

“Desire to restrain your partner during intimacy.” I licked my lips as my head lolled to the side, “ Interested .”

He growled and bit the lobe of my ear, “You want to tie me down, Dove?”

“God.” I moaned again and nodded my head. “Yes.”

“You like the idea of being in control of me?”

“Yes.” I rocked my hips and rubbed myself against him again .

“Read me another.”

“Desire to be blindfolded by your partner during intimacy? Interested.”

“You’re a switch.” He smiled against my neck and leaned back. “You want to be in control and give over some control, too.”

“I don’t want to be dominated.” I shook my head.

“I didn’t say dominated.” He clarified. “I said control. There’s a difference. Read me another one.”

“Desire to be intimate with your partner in a public place or with someone else watching.” I snorted. “Not interested.”

“Good.” He growled, “No one gets to see what’s mine. Another.” He moved to the other side of my neck and nibbled on it.

“Desire to call your partner degrading terms such as whore, pet, and sissy.” I shuddered, “Not interested.”

Zeke smiled against my neck and nodded, “Another.”

I groaned and skimmed the page, looking for one that might be useful for the conversation.

“Last one,” I said, and he rolled his eyes but smirked at me, leaning his head back against the cushion.

“Desire to call your partner terms associated with authority, like daddy, or master.” I swallowed and licked my lips, unable to say my answer out loud.

“What is your answer, Laila?” he prodded.

“What would your answer to that question be?” I countered, pulling at a piece of fuzz on his shirt.

“Do I want to call you Master?” He raised a brow at me jokingly. “No, can’t say as I do.”

“Do you want me to call you—” I swallowed again, my throat suddenly drier than the Sahara, “Master.” I shrugged. “Or—Daddy?”