“Yes. I think so.” I let out a raw laugh. “How do I know? I’ve never done this. But it’s something I want to experience, and who knows when I’ll get another invitation.”
“So you’d be okay watching them?”
“Yes.”
“What about doing more than watch? Because if you’re going there simply as a voyeur, I’d have to ask Rolf first.”
I let out a breath. “I didn’t realise it worked like that.”
“It works however the people involved agree it works. That’s the point.” He paused. “No one is there to entertain anyone else. And no one is entitled to your time.” That focus was back. “So…”
I swallowed. “I want to do more than watch.”
Stefan’s focused gaze sent a tingle through me. “And if I wanted to bend you over and fuck you in front of however many guys are there, you’d be okay with that? With being seen?” His hand stroked mine. “Nailing it down before we get there is important.”
I nodded, although my heart was pounding. “I… I’d be okay with that.” Then my sense of humour came to the rescue. “But can I just say…nailing? Did you have to usethatword?”
His wry smile eased my racing mind.
“Okay. We’ve established you’d be okay with me touching you.” That familiar head tilt was back. “And what if someone else wants to touch you?”
Oh dear God.
Before I could get my throat relaxed enough to answer, he said, “If you come with me, you arrive on my arm.”
That got my full attention. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re with me,” he said with a shrug. “Anyone who wants your attention asks me first.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“And you just… decide?”
He shook his head. “I decide based onyou, not them. If I don’t see that you’re comfortable, the answer is no.”
I liked that. “And if I don’t want to do anything with anyone else—just you?”
“Then you don’t.”
I took a deep breath. “What if someone asks me directly?”
“There’s an art to saying no without sounding like an asshole,” Stefan said with a smile. “But it’s still no.”
A shudder ran through me. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable doing something with anyone else.”
Stefan nodded. “Then that’s your boundary, your limit.”
I breathed a little easier.
“You might feel differently once you get there, or then again, you might not. Either is fine.” He squeezed my hand. “Butyoudecide it, not the situation.”
“And if I’m uncomfortable?” I asked.
“Then we leave.” His tone was firm and clear.
“You won’t mind?”