Page 190 of Naughty November
“No, it’s using my resources.” Micha shrugged as he took us back over and sat us down on the couch again, still keeping me trapped. “And my brain, because I think I’ve been too nice about letting you avoid your yellows for too long.”
Damn it.
Somehow I’d done this to myself but I couldn’t figure out how.
“Deciding that you’re not ready to try them yet is one thing, and even changing your mind isn’t an issue, but you’ve been avoiding them.” Micha’s disappointed tone was back and the worst part was that he was upset at both of us.
“So what we’re going to do is to look at the last topics and we’ll talk about them.” Taking the jar from me, he set it on the couch beside us. “We can say that we’re excited to try something. We can say we’re nervous about it but it’s not a problem. We can say yellow and do our best to explain our first thoughts. But the one thing we’re not going todo is to refuse to react completely. I need information to keep you safe and happy. That supersedes anything else.”
Sighing didn’t get me any attention at all. He just pretended to ignore me as he opened the glass mason jar I’d decorated with penis ribbon and dumped out the last of the pieces of paper. There were five. I’d lost track of some of them but I giggled when he turned over the first paper and it said toes.
It was Micha’s turn to sigh. “I still don’t know why I picked that one. Feet are not sexy.”
“You’d been reading one of my books.” Micha wasn’t a big reader but occasionally he got curious since I read so much. It was my favorite way to wind down, and one of his favorite ways to relax was to read over my shoulder and comment on what the characters were doing.
“That’s right.” Huffing, he set the paper down. “That character was very…enthusiastic.”
And Micha liked it when people got excited…so he’d gotten caught up in the moment.
I still wasn’t sure if he would’ve yellowed on it or not, but I didn’t have time to think about that when he turned the next one over.
Ugh.
“Your stillness is very telling, baby.” Setting aside the piece of paper I didn’t want to talk about, he picked another one. “Ah, clothespins.”
It was hard to remember to be stressed when some of the options were so much fun. Giggling, I buried my face against his neck. “I kept hoping you’d pick that one so we could see if you liked them too.”
I liked anything that pinched and squeezed. Spankings were fun under the right circumstances, but I wasn’t really into thuddy, sharp pain sensations. Micha, on the other hand, wasn’t a sub at all when it came to bedroom stuff and he’d never tried them.
Huffing, he set the paper down in the pile with the feet one. “You were a very precocious teenager.”
Yep.
“And…oh, I don’t remember you putting this in there.” Micha chuckled softly when I couldn’t resist freezing again. “I’m starting to see what you were so nervous about.”
Ugh.
“Drunk me was very confident.” It wasn’t sober me’s fault, but I was the one dealing with the fallout.
“You had two margaritas over the course of an hour. You were not drunk enough to blame your choices on the drinks. You were sober enough that I let you use a glue gun.” He seemed very sure of my state of mind, but we clearly had very different memories of that night. “Let’s see if there’s anything else that would make you nervous.”
No.
Those were it.
“Alright, everything else is cute or something I’m pretty sure you were very eager to try, so we’re going to set those aside and put them back in the jar.” He stretched out, giving me time to process or panic by putting the rest of the papers away very slowly, but eventually there were just the two on the couch beside us. “There we go.”
Yep.
There was no avoiding it any longer.
“Tickling and wetting.” Micha kissed my head as both arms wrapped around me. “What are your first thoughts, baby?”
That I was an overconfident idiot and I wasn’t going to drink margaritas anymore.
TWO
MICHA