Lane kept looking up from the blank page and glaring at me. “Stop hovering. I’ll show it to you when it’s ready.” On the top she’d written: Candy.

Shit. I put on a pair of shorts and went through my calendar for the week and tried to think of anything other than all the things I fucking prayed she put on that piece of paper. It was another brilliant idea. Maybe this much sex was helping my cognitive abilities, too—increased blood flow or something.

Writing things down would be a stepping stone to just saying what she wanted. I didn’t understand why it was so hard for her to do, but it was. If she was really going to move past those assholes who screwed with her head for so many years and who made all her decisions for her, then this kind of shit was important. It was also really fucking fun.

Half an hour later, I checked on her again. She was looking out the window, chewing on the pencil.

“You done?” I called.

“Not yet.”

Twenty minutes later I asked again.

“Almost.” Good. She was definitely writing something.

“What number are you up to?”

“You’ll find out when I’m done. But since I’m not done, go away.” She was probably doing it so slowly just to drive me insane. It was working. I stared at the ceiling over my bed for fifteen incredibly long minutes.

When she finally came into the bedroom, she was waving the paper in the air. “If you laugh at any of them, I’m walking out.”

“Get that fucking list and your fucking ass over here right now.” And damn, I hoped that was on the list.

She shoved the paper at me and laid down right next to me with bright red cheeks and eyes that were clenched shut.

“You’re not going to read them to me?” I pouted.

“Stop it.” She curled into my arm, hiding her face. “I don’t want to see your expression when you read a few of them.”

I didn’t look at the list, instead deciding to look at her for a little longer. “You mean like number seven? Oh dear god, Lane. Believe me, I’m smiling.” Then I groaned, trying to keep still so she wouldn’t know how badly I wanted to laugh. “Ouch, number four’s gonna hurt. It might even cause some permanent damage.” My abs tightened in jerks but my voice still sounded serious. “I’m not even sure it’s physically possible. Are you absolutely sure you wanna try that?”

She smacked me.

When I actually looked at the list, I realized why it had taken her so long to finish. She’d used both sides of the paper...and her print was small. I cleared my throat to cover how anxious I was to start reading.

Why the fuck doesn’t everybody do this? Hell, maybe they did...in relationships. I swallowed and shook it off.

“Number one,” I started.

“Don’t read them out loud!”

“You wrote them and we’re both going to do them, so why can’t I say them out loud? Number one...” I stopped reading and put the paper down next to me, crumpling it in my fist. “Goddamn it, Lane.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, nervously.

“That was the first thing you thought of?”

“Yeah.”

Damn it. Sure, when I thought of the list idea, I knew I’d get something out of it. A lot of something. But it wasn’t about what I got or what I wanted. It was so Lane would finally own up to what she wanted and not be embarrassed about it.

“The list is supposed to be about what you want,” I grumbled.

“Why can’t I want that?”

“You can but you don’t. You just know I do. I have a good memory about important shit. And one of the very first things you ever said to me was, if I wanted to keep my dick, that shouldn’t happen.”

“I changed my mind.”

I paused, not wanting to rush into believing her just because I’d get what I wanted to do every time her lips were around my cock. Of course, if she really did want it and I refused because I thought I knew better than she did, that kind of defeated the purpose of everything.

I couldn’t say I wasn’t anxious to try. But I couldn’t get distracted until I knew for sure it was what she wanted, too. Don’t get distracted. Right.

“You sure?” I asked.

She nodded. “Keep reading so we can get it over with. I’m sure there are other ones you’ll freak out about. Read them quick, then you can freak out about all of them at once.”

I took her hand and put it on my already hardening cock. “I’m freaking out, but in a really good way, Lane. Okay? A really good way.” I lost track of the paper when we started kissing, but it didn’t matter—I’d read the rest later.

“Then let’s start with number one,” she whispered.

“Okay.” I tried not to sound as fucking eager as I was but patience had never been my thing. I stood by the edge of the bed and pushed the hair off her face, forming most of it into a messy ponytail as she pulled my shorts down. “You really sure about this?”

“Are you worried I’m going to bite you, Carson?” Her smile disappeared when she wrapped her lips around my cock, getting it wet.

“No.” I groaned and pushed deeper into her mouth, trying to go slow—not too much too fast. But holy fuck was it not easy. She reached behind her head and covered my hand with hers, pushing herself forward to take more of me, to force my cock deeper, all the way in, staring up at me with those big, beautiful eyes that I could look at forever.

“I know you won’t bite me,” I said, my hips slowly starting to take control, my hands sliding to the sides of her face, holding her still. “I’m just worried this will kill me and”—oooh fuck, that feels good—“while I’ll die a very happy man, I’ll never get to know what else”—breathe, need to breathe—“is on that list.”

But that wasn’t what I should be worried about. What might be happening between us could be way more dangerous.