Page 16

He doesn’t move.

He sits back on his heels. His expression isn’t angry. It isn’t impatient.

It’s careful.

Curious.

“Never,” he repeats.

“I’ve done other things. I’ve just never had sex.” I wince. “I know how that sounds at my age.”

“A religious thing?”

“No.” I pull in a breath. “I don’t want to be a conquest. I’ve watched what happens when that’s all there is between two people. My mother made a career out of it.”

“So I decided a long time ago I’d wait until it was worth it,” I say. “It weeds out the men who’d leave anyway.”

“And tonight?”

“Tonight is about me. My choice.” I make myself hold his gaze. “Unless you’d rather...”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

There it is.

That low, cold edge in his voice. The one that sent Mark scurrying for the elevator.

Except it isn’t aimed at me.

It’s aimed at whatever I was about to say about myself.

Then it softens. So completely that I’d swear he’s a different man.

“Okay,” he says. “Then we do this your way. Slowly. You tell me what feels good and what doesn’t. The second you want to stop, we stop. Yes?”

I nod.

I can’t speak.

He settles back against the headboard and gently pulls me into his lap.

“This way, you’re in control,” he says. “The depth. The pace. All of it.”

“I’m on birth control,” I blurt.

It’s the least sexy sentence anyone has ever said in this position.

His mouth twitches. “Good. I was tested a few weeks ago. I’m clean.”

There’s that dimple again.

“Now,” he says, “let’s stop with the unsexy talk.”

“Yes. Let’s.”

His hands rest on my hips, warm and steady, and the silver in his beard catches the city light when he tips his face up to mine.

“Breathe,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”