only a sexual but emotional nature to our relationship now and you’re no longer just my hot roommate,” I state, ignoring his smirk, “I thought we could play a type of… I don’t know, 20 questions game. That way I get to know more about you instead of feeling like I’m being interrogated in a mental institute.”
He chuckles. “You can always ask me anything, Astrid. We don’t have to play a game for you to get to know me,” he replies. “But if this will make you more comfortable to open up, then we can play it this way.”
“It would,” I respond honestly.
“Good. Me first, and I’ll try my best not to use my ‘shrinky voice,’” he says, making finger quotes that make me smile. “What’s up with all the BDSM books?”
I sigh, closing my eyes and focusing on the jet that’s currently making my skin feel numb. “Just like almost every other woman in the entire universe, I read the Fifty Shades books. I loved them and was hooked, and I used that handy-dandy list that pops up on Amazon that tells you ‘If you like this, you may also like…’ and let’s just say the list was accurate as fuck and spiraled out of control. The end. My turn!” I gloss over any depth my answer might’ve had, not quite ready to delve into my fascination with the D/s lifestyle and what it ultimately led to, when we’re just getting this party started. “When was your last relationship?” I ask, curious about this more than I care to admit. How the hell was a guy like Dr. Neil Walker single when I met him, and how has he stayed that way over the past year I’ve known him? Or was he seeing someone I didn’t know about?
The thought makes my stomach hurt and my face flame with jealousy.
“God, your microexpressions are so telling, goddess. I can read all those emotions like a book,” he murmurs low, and I frown at him.
“Shrinky voice.”
“My bad,” he replies with a grin.
I giggle. “God, you’re old.” I shake my head when his face falls. “No one says ‘my bad’ anymore. That’s so Clueless circa 1995.”
He raises a brow. “And what would you know about a movie that came out when you were two?”
I snort. “I might’ve been in diapers when you were watching that movie on a date in high school, but it’s a freaking classic. Who hasn’t seen Clueless?”
I say it with humor in my tone, but a look of complete sadness fills his eyes before he looks away. I sit up in my seat, the overwhelming need to go to him and comfort him, even while not knowing exactly what I said that brought on that look I’ve never seen on him before, filling me. But he answers my original question before I can move any closer.
“My last real relationship ended twenty-four years ago.” His voice is quiet.
I do the math in my head quickly. “When you were eighteen? But how—”
“My turn, goddess.” He cuts me off, giving me a dose of my own avoidance medicine. “What is it about all those books that you find fascinating?”
I shake my head at him. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”
His face softens. “Can you blame me? After a year of knowing you, I only just discovered your… I don’t want to say obsession, because that term is used entirely too loosely these days, but your… fixation on D/s relationships, when I am, in fact, part owner of a BDSM club.”
My eyes narrow as I lean forward, squeezing my tits together. “Why, Doc? You wanna tie me up and fuck me?” I question darkly.
I don’t know why I do it. I don’t know why I ask him that question and in that way. A defense mechanism maybe? A response to the last man I told about my love for the alternative lifestyle?
Maybe I do it just to provoke him, to see if he’ll react in the same way my ex had.
But I should’ve known better. Neil isn’t anything like Brandon, and he seems to understand me better than I do myself.
Before I have time to dissect my own thoughts, his big body is on my side of the hot tub, and he sinks down into the water until I’m looking down into his cerulean eyes and I feel his giant hands grip my hips in my seat. “Going to try really fucking hard to not go all therapist on you, but you’re