Foreman's pulse picked up as Amber took a deep, controlled breath. He hoped he hadn't soured their evening with one stupid question. He'd had enough of entire nights turned from enjoyment and attraction into an argument or worse just because one of them couldn't shut up and stop pushing. Maybe he should have left it, at least until they were leaving. He matched Amber's hands, resting his on her hips. Fine, silken strands of her hair had blown away from her face in the breeze, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. The solemn look in her eyes made her seem open, guileless and trusting, and Foreman responded to that at once. Amber had joked that he could play at saving her tonight, but he did feel protective toward her, and making sure he knew the lines she was drawing was part of that.
He was surprised at what she ruled out, though. None of that was even remotely what he'd been thinking about. Okay, yes, he'd had a brief fantasy of Amber inviting Thirteen into their bed, but that was only a passing thought, one he wasn't going to admit to, let alone advocate for. As for the rest--he wasn't innocent, he was a doctor and he'd heard his share of stories from embarrassed clinic patients, but that hadn't even been on his radar. He nodded, though, and limited himself to a quiet, "Okay."
It was even more difficult to answer her question in return. In the same way that he hadn't thought about what Amber's boundaries might be specifically, he hadn't thought about his own. He knew what he liked, and he'd never gone much further than that. Before the fact, he had no idea what he wouldn't like. A few days ago he would have vetoed anyone going anywhere near his ass, but Amber had proved that she could be damn convincing. He'd gone off like a rocket, for something he'd been frightened of, as if she might have hurt him. That was fucking embarrassing. Foreman didn't want to ask for that again, but he didn't want to rule it out, either.
They were running out of time for him to hesitate. Foreman shook his head slowly. Amber trusted him. Couldn't he give her the same back? That night, she'd gone slowly, she'd listened to him. And if it turned out tonight that Foreman wanted something that Amber didn't, even if it hadn't been on her list, he'd still stop, no matter how frustrating it was. Sex wasn't the be all and end all of their relationship. So why let himself get hung up on it? "I don't know," he said. He could feel himself tensing up over those words; he'd always hated saying them. Even in the cold, his face was burning. Either be wrong or be right, but fucking say something. Foreman cleared his throat, and tried to shrug it off, as if he hadn't just admitted to having no damn experience. Christ, it was a humiliating position to be in. "I can find out with you," he finished. It implied the same trust she had in him, and it answered her question, but that was all Foreman could manage.
He broke eye contact with her and stepped up to the shooting booth. At least the kids were gone now. He reached for a dollar bill, shoving it in the carny's hand, and picked up a gun. "Come on," he said to Amber, determined to have fun, and not to think. And trying to calm himself down so that he'd at least have a chance at this stupid game. "Let's see what you've got."
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He was surprised at what she ruled out, though. None of that was even remotely what he'd been thinking about. Okay, yes, he'd had a brief fantasy of Amber inviting Thirteen into their bed, but that was only a passing thought, one he wasn't going to admit to, let alone advocate for. As for the rest--he wasn't innocent, he was a doctor and he'd heard his share of stories from embarrassed clinic patients, but that hadn't even been on his radar. He nodded, though, and limited himself to a quiet, "Okay."
It was even more difficult to answer her question in return. In the same way that he hadn't thought about what Amber's boundaries might be specifically, he hadn't thought about his own. He knew what he liked, and he'd never gone much further than that. Before the fact, he had no idea what he wouldn't like. A few days ago he would have vetoed anyone going anywhere near his ass, but Amber had proved that she could be damn convincing. He'd gone off like a rocket, for something he'd been frightened of, as if she might have hurt him. That was fucking embarrassing. Foreman didn't want to ask for that again, but he didn't want to rule it out, either.
They were running out of time for him to hesitate. Foreman shook his head slowly. Amber trusted him. Couldn't he give her the same back? That night, she'd gone slowly, she'd listened to him. And if it turned out tonight that Foreman wanted something that Amber didn't, even if it hadn't been on her list, he'd still stop, no matter how frustrating it was. Sex wasn't the be all and end all of their relationship. So why let himself get hung up on it? "I don't know," he said. He could feel himself tensing up over those words; he'd always hated saying them. Even in the cold, his face was burning. Either be wrong or be right, but fucking say something. Foreman cleared his throat, and tried to shrug it off, as if he hadn't just admitted to having no damn experience. Christ, it was a humiliating position to be in. "I can find out with you," he finished. It implied the same trust she had in him, and it answered her question, but that was all Foreman could manage.
He broke eye contact with her and stepped up to the shooting booth. At least the kids were gone now. He reached for a dollar bill, shoving it in the carny's hand, and picked up a gun. "Come on," he said to Amber, determined to have fun, and not to think. And trying to calm himself down so that he'd at least have a chance at this stupid game. "Let's see what you've got."