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“Wanna know a secret? I happen to like dark,” he says, his eyes connecting with mine.
Jesus. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the sudden spark of electricity between us. “Dark, huh? Be careful what you wish for, Jack.”
He holds my gaze, his expression turning serious. “I’m not afraid of ...
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“Maybe you should be,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.
What do you think I want? I type.
You want a man who doesn’t ask. He just does. You want a man who takes control, who knows what you need before you even realize it yourself. I see a woman who craves intensity. Who wants to be pushed to her limits, to experience everything life has to offer. But I also see someone who’s afraid. Afraid of losing control, of being truly vulnerable.
