Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,69

hear your desires." He leaned forward and nuzzled my neck. "I want you to open up to me."

The redness in my cheeks immediately changed into a very different sort of heat. "Like... fantasies?" I asked shyly.

"Exactly," he said. "You know, sometimes people just aren't satisfied and they never speak up. I don't want that to happen to us."

I gulped, suddenly worried that Jack was into something really crazy. "You're not, like, into whipping and stuff, are you?" My voice came out so meekly, so weak.

He laughed and set his empty glass down. "No, no. Nothing too crazy. I like to be a little aggressive now and then, but nothing serious. I'm talking about things you'd like to do but probably never will. Is there anything?"

I started thinking about having my wrists tied while Jack had his way with me. It was a thought that I really liked, but it was unusual, for sure.

"Effie?"

"What?" His words startled me.

"What really turns you on? Don't be ashamed about anything." His hands framed my face as he gazed deep into my eyes.

His question felt like an injection in my arm, slowly melting me from the inside. This gorgeous guy was sitting here, drilling me about sex—in the hottest way possible. Those green eyes were so hypnotizing, a sea worth swimming in—or drowning in.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't really have fantasies like that."

"What about when you're alone? What do you think about?"

I tensed up again. "Sex. I mean, I... I guess I never really..." Damn, I just didn't know what to say. I couldn't seem to elaborate at all—and I wasn't sure what was holding me back. I wasn't a prude, but then again, this wasn't easy, either.

"Effie, don't be ashamed. I masturbate like everyone else. It's a normal thing. I just want to be open with you. If it makes you too uncomfortable, you don't have to say anything."

A nervous laugh escaped me as I shuffled things around in my brain like a deck of cards. Who was I kidding? "Fine," I grunted. "I do it, but not a lot. And it's actually hot when someone like you does it."

Jack leaned in close and kissed me, a kiss that warmed me all the way down to my toes. The gesture immediately made me think of the mile high club and what we could get away with on this plane. "And it's not hot when you do it? What makes you so sure of that?" His intensity was firm, unrelenting.

"I don't know," I said. He was forcing me to consider things I had never considered before. I was exploring a part of me that was wholly unfamiliar.

"Have you ever done that for someone? Touched yourself? Made yourself come while they watched you?" His breath was so warm against my earlobe. The tickling sensation made me shiver. On top of everything else, the prominent and growing hardness I felt against my thigh nearly stole my breath entirely.

"No, I haven't." Jack was making it clear what he wanted, and although it was new territory for me, something about it was dangerously hot.

"Do you know actually what it looks like when a girl does that?"

I conjured up disjointed yet provoking images of internet porn in my head. They were mindless, hyperbolic images of sex. "It's kind of gross."

"Are you thinking about porn, Effie? Because that stuff's nothing like the real thing. Porn is kind of gross."

"I don't get why it's so hot, though." I was saying one thing and thinking another. Jack was physically touching me, but he wasn't touching me like that—and it was really making me want to touch myself. Had he hypnotized me somehow? Given the circumstances and the direction of the conversation, it almost seemed reasonable.

"They did a survey," Jack said proudly. "Of what people look at when they're watching porn. What do you think most guys looked at?"

His question instantly lightened my mood, my tension rapidly evaporating. "Well, boobs, obviously. Probably asses too." I felt pretty confident about my guess.

"Wrong!" Jack shouted. "The majority of the men watched the woman's eyes and face."

"You're such a liar!" I shoved him playfully—after verifying that he wasn't holding his drink.

"I'm not kidding!" he said. "It was a real study. Guess what the women looked at?"

"Are you just trying to humiliate us girls?" I asked. "Did they look at legs? Pecs? Biceps? Faces?"

Jack gave me a wry smile. "They looked at penises. No joke."

"Was this a real study?" I asked, my voice full of bemusement.