Soft Skills by Cleo Peitsche Read Free Book Online

bring you here, explain some logistical things, ask you how you imagine your life in ten years, twenty years, and broach the topic.”
    “Why me?” Elle struggled away from him. “You could have anyone.”
    Cunningham sighed. “You are a catch, Elle. I have no doubt that any heterosexual man who meets you will find his mind going in that direction. But that’s not enough to hold my interest. Do you have any idea how few people there are in the world whose idea of a good time matches mine?”
    “A lot, I’d guess.”
    “You’d be wrong. Women might fantasize sometimes about having multiple partners, but very few are interested in it as an actual lifestyle choice, along with all the sacrifices that entails. Then you add in the BDSM games, and the pool dwindles even more. I never imagined I’d find someone who I clicked with on every level.”
    “But women love you.”
    “Women love my money and all the comforts that come with it. When I was a teenager, I was lonely. I’d date the most beautiful women in the school, but it was never enough. When I first started dominating women, that wasn’t enough, either. Yes, I’m a bit of a sadist, and heaven knows I enjoy watching you with other men. Maybe I’m twisted, or maybe I’m more honest with myself than most people.”
    Elle studied Cunningham. “You never explained it like that before.”
    Cunningham stood, then sat, then stood again. “Stupidly, I never thought I needed to, especially after you forced me to confront myself when we were in Aspen.” He laughed bitterly. “I figured that since you recognized that I was falling for you—and yes, in retrospect I realize my feelings were obvious—then you understood why I kept my true desires so tightly hidden away. Any lingering doubts should have been dispelled after meeting Bianca.”
    Elle remembered her afternoon with the gorgeous, tall blonde who had previously dated the three men. They hadn’t fallen in love with her, though, or at least Cunningham hadn’t. When the sex stopped being enough for Bianca, she moved to England, brokenhearted—though not before extracting an unfairly large sum of money from them.
    Cunningham shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “There’s so much I want for us, but the more I try to show how cherished you are, the more insecure you get. Why is that? Help me understand.”
    Elle didn’t fancy saying it aloud, but Cunningham had just laid himself bare, and he deserved the truth. She took a deep breath. “At the beginning, I didn’t have anything to lose except my pride.”
    Cunningham watched her closely. “And now?”
    “Now… I’ve got nothing left at all. I feel like you could just snap your fingers and it would all go away. I’m not good enough. I don’t know about all these nice things that you’re so used to, you don’t even see it…” The words didn’t make sense, but they kept spilling out of her. “I’m trying so hard but I just want you to want me, to want… me… you know, the way I am. But even if you did, I’d never believe in it.” She stopped to take a breath, and Cunningham sat, pulling her into his lap.
    “Oh, Elle. That’s simply not true. I want to spoil you, not change you, and I’m here for the long haul. All of us are. Do you understand that? It’s ok if you don’t. You will. I’ll keep proving it to you, again and again, until you understand.”
    Unable to breathe, crushed by his love, all she could do was nod.

    Cunningham cooked dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a tangy stir fry with lots of ginger. Still, it was delicious. Cunningham opened a bottle of red wine, and when Elle didn’t love it, he promptly opened one that she did enjoy.
    A warm feeling fluttered in her stomach. A month ago, he would have lectured her on the wine’s merits. Still, knowing that he was biting his tongue didn’t make her feel more worthy.  
    Elle pushed back her plate. “I’d love to cook for you some day.”