didn’t want to say no. The sex had been fantastic. More than that, his company had been comfortable. Dangerously so.
“I don’t date.”
“I’ll make another appointment.”
“Why?” I asked, point-blank. “You’ve seen me come with you inside me. What’s left?”
I think I really shocked him then. I meant to, anyway. I wanted to chase him away from me.
He stood up straight and glanced to the bedroom before striding over to me. He was tall enough so we didn’t stand eye to eye, but not so tall I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze. His face had gone hard, and though I shouldn’t admit it, the sudden sense of danger, of wondering if maybe I’d pushed him a little too far, sparked a thrill through me.
“You’re smiling.” He wasn’t. “Do you like to play games, Elle? Is that it?”
Some men like to use their size or their fists to intimidate women. Dan looked angry, but he didn’t touch me. I didn’t move, didn’t retreat. He put a hand on the door frame next to my head.
“I didn’t get you off good enough?”
“That’s not it. You were very good.”
He didn’t look pleased at the compliment. “Not good enough for another round?”
“You didn’t ask me if I wanted to fuck you again,” I said matter-of-factly. “You asked me if I wanted to see you again.”
“You can’t do the first without the second, Elle.”
He was fast. Clever, without being arrogant about it. I liked that. Liked him.
“If you want to fuck—” I began.
“Is that what you want?” His voice dipped lower. “Just a quick fuck?”
“No,” I said. “Sometimes I like them to be slow.”
He put his other hand on my hip, pulling me step by reluctant step against him. “I can give you that.”
He was hard again. I felt him on my belly. I put my arms around his neck and let him press me close along his body.
“Can you?”
He nodded, solemn, hands cupping my ass now to rub me against his erection. “I told you. Whatever you want.”
“It won’t work, you know. It never does. People get attached—”
He laughed. “I won’t get attached.”
I smiled. His bare skin was warm beneath my hands. “Nobody thinks they will. But they always do.”
“And that’s why you don’t date.”
“That’s why.”
He rocked me against him, slowly. “Because men get attached to you.”
“Some have, yes.”
“And you don’t?”
I splayed my fingers on his shoulders, my thumbs stroking the ridge of his collarbone. “I did once.”
He bent his head to run his mouth along my neck. “But other than that, you’ve broken the hearts of scores of fools who got attached to you.”
“I don’t like to think so, no. I’ve tried to avoid it.”
“Why? It doesn’t get you hot, thinking of all those broken hearts in your wake?”
“No.”
“Because…you’d feel guilty.”
“Yes…” The word became a hiss as his tongue stroked my skin.
“And that’s why you don’t date.”
“Haven’t we gone over this?” I looked at him, pushing him away a little to see his face.
“Don’t worry, Elle,” he whispered, pulling me closer again. “I won’t get too attached.”
How can I explain exactly how he made me feel? Even now, looking back, I can remember everything about that moment. The feeling of his hands on me. The scent of him, cologne and sex. The way his mouth curved at the corners and the way the first hint of stubble glinted on his cheeks. I hold a perfect picture of him in my mind: Dan in that moment. The moment he convinced me to stay.
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