“Bitches be crazy? What?”

Zoe wore a towel, her hair dripping onto my bed as she sat on the edge. After a week of complaining about getting home hot, sweaty and tired, I’d suggested a cool shower. It quickly became a daily ritual.

“Nathan!”

“Huh?” I popped my head out of the closet, where I was changing into a pair of basketball shorts after work. She held up the sticky note on the cover of my iPad.

“Oh. Book club notes.” I disappeared again, in search of a tee shirt.

“What? You’re in a book club?”

“It’s just a bunch of guys who get together every few weeks,” I explained, plopping down beside her to peel her towel open. “You should have waited for me—I would have joined you in the shower.”

“And talk about books?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s what a book club is, right?”

She sucked in a breath as I thumbed her nipple. “I, uh… we need to talk.”

Four little words guaranteed to kill the mood. I waited.

“Uh, we haven’t been using, um, protection.”

Fuck. This conversation. I raked my fingers through my hair. “I just assumed you were on the pill.”

She bound the towel back around her, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, I’m not.” She looked like she was about to throw up.

Wait… no. My eyes narrowed at her. “I can’t get you pregnant.”

“I may be a little inexperienced, Nathan, but even I know the basics of the birds and bees.”

“No, I mean I can’t. I had a vasectomy about five years ago.”

“What? Why?”

The blatant shock in Zoe’s voice irritated me. “Does it matter?” I asked, standing up.

“Um, I guess not?” She fell silent. For some reason her silence rankled me more than her shock.

Did it matter? Maybe not so much in the short term, but in the long run… wait, was I thinking about the long run?

She cleared her throat. “I need to get dressed,” she announced in a small voice. “And go for a fucking STI screening,” she muttered under her breath.

“Zoe. Jesus, I never, ever would have touched you if I didn’t know one hundred percent that it was safe. What kind of an asshole do you think I am?” Granted, I was the kind of asshole who forgot to say anything in the first place.

Her eyes were glassy with disappointment. “I feel like an idiot. What am I, fifteen?”

I wanted to kick myself in retrospect, but the truth was that it had never occurred to me that she wasn’t totally pure and innocent. I assumed she was smart, responsible, and self-aware. Apparently, I’d also proved that I wasn’t.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t have touched you if I also didn’t think you were safe, too. I trust you. But I should have said something too.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you ask?”

She pressed her lips together. Yeah, we were both at fault here—more me than her, though. I should have said something, should have reassured her in the beginning. I should have protected her, even if it wasn’t necessary, just for her peace of mind.

Hell, I should have protected her from me and not touched her in the first place. But that bed had been unmade, and now we had to lie in it.

Her tears had been blinked away, but the frown on her face deepened. “I don’t understand, though. Why did you get a vasectomy? Don’t you ever want to—”

“Stop.” I stepped in front of her so she couldn’t get up. “Just listen. I’ll explain what you need to know, then I don’t want to talk about it again, okay?”

I felt her peering up at me but I remained detached, staring out the window behind her. Maybe she was imagining some tragic story of mumps, a sports injury, or even just accidentally stabbing myself in the balls with a sharp pencil. I’d never felt ashamed of myself about this until right this moment. Her warm hand squeezed mine, and I swallowed hard but didn’t look down.

“Long story short… I went through two pregnancy scares with two girlfriends in a row, who were basically gold diggers. I was getting pretty well known in the business at the time, but I was still at the point where I trusted people.”

Yeah, that time had passed.

“I knew I didn’t want kids, and I didn’t want it to become an issue in the future—so to speak.” I couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the pun.

She didn’t laugh. Outside, the city got ready for dinner and people walked their dogs. Inside it was quiet.

“Okay,” she finally said as she dropped my hand. “Wow. That’s pretty selfish.”

Phew. She understood. “I know, right?”

“Of you!”

What? She wriggled past me and stomped to the den. Halfway through the living room she dropped the towel. I shook my head. Bitches be crazy, huh?

“Zoe!” When I caught up to her she was pulling on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top she excavated from under her pillow. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?”

In a huff, she reached over and tried to open my play closet, but the addition of a real bed to the room didn’t leave any space. She managed to crack it open enough to wedge her arm inside with a wince, before yanking out a riding crop like a she was a magician pulling a rabbit out of a fucking hat.

“You’re a control freak who gets off by punishing women, and I’m the one with the problem?”

I ripped the crop out of her hand and slashed it down on her covers, making her jump. “You didn’t seem to mind when I made you come like an express train!”

“No, because I was coming at the time! Jeez!”

The way she rolled her eyes made me want to spank her again, then fuck her mercilessly. The compulsion made me pause, my chest heaving as I contained my emotions. Her nipples pressed against her tank top, her thighs soft under the hem of her stretchy shorts. I couldn’t help but desire her.

Her gaze swept up and down me knowingly. “You want me right now, don’t you Nathan? You want to punish me for making you tell me your secrets.”

I swallowed.

She softened. Her whole body slumped a little, every molecule warming as she pushed down her shorts and pulled off her top. Naked, with arms pink from the sun, she reached out gingerly to touch my chest.

“Have me, then. But don’t punish me for trusting you. I’ve been on board with all of it, you know. There’s been nothing you’ve done, that we’ve done that I haven’t liked. Well, until this conversation, anyhow.”

As I nodded, her hands crept under my shirt. There was a “sorry” on my lips but I couldn’t get it out of my mouth. I bent down to press my forehead against hers. This close I could see the freckles on her face like they were constellations.

“And don’t punish yourself for trusting me,” she said softly.

Was I doing that? “You’re too young to be this wise,” I joked.

“You’re too old to be this stupid.” She kissed me. “I’ll make you a deal.”

My body responded to the words, and the realization that she was naked in my arms—another new daily ritual in my apartment. “What kind of deal?”

“I want you to ma—” She broke off with a tight, faraway look in her eyes. “Fuck me,” she said. “Make me scream without punishing me. Show me how much you want me, without the… accessories. You have enough power over me without them, trust me. Show me you don’t need the power and the control to get off, and I’ll let you try that crop on me. Maybe the flower flogger, too. Because to be honest, I kind of want it all.”

Her cheeks flamed. I tilted her chin up, examining her expression. “You selfish, naughty girl,” I chided. “You want to try them anyway.”

Her breath hitched. “Okay.”

“Yes, it’s making you hot and wet, isn’t it? Thinking about submitting to me is turning you on.”

She pressed her thighs together. I could almost smell her arousal in the small room. It made me burn, too.

“Believe me, Zoe, making you scream is not a punishment. It’s a fucking privilege.” I swept my hands up her rib cage to her armpits and pushed her onto the bed that was shoved against the wall of my den. “But you’re wrong about me. I can go without the power-tripping.”

“Oh really?” Her gaze never left me as I took off my shirt and stepped out of my shorts. She propped herself up on her elbows, eyeing me with lust and a lack of confidence. “Prove it.”