“That’s why it won’t happen,” he boops my nose, but I realize he hasn’t really answered my question.
“So, are you? Into guys?”
“You are thefirst personI’ve beenintosince I was fifteen,” he says without an ounce of hesitation. My heart stumbles a beat. It feels like he just shared a secret. “But, yes, I’ve been with guys before. I am sexually attracted to both genders. But this,” he grabs my hand, placing it over his crotch, “has nothing to do with Tommy.”
“Timothy,” I correct, then press my lips together when he tosses me a glare.
“This is because someone was making my favorite sex sounds, and it wasn’t for me. I can almost guarantee Timothy was just as fucking hard behind that apron of his.”
I close one eye and scrunch my face, but the grin spreading across my lips won’t be contained. “It felt so good. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.”
“I did.” He reaches between us, grabbing my hands so the sheet falls away. The cool air in the room instantly pebbles my nipples, but it’s when he licks his lips that they ache. I hold my breath, wanting him to touch them. When he slides my robe over my shoulders instead, disappointment, and maybe a little frustration, scrunches my nose.
What the hell is wrong with me? I had more orgasms in six hours than I had in six months, and I’m ready to spread my legs and hang a sign saying free entry.
“Come on, you little horn dog,” he laughs as he helps me from the table. “We have lots more to do today before you have to be at the theater.”
“I’m the horn dog? Who got hard because he heard me moan?”
“That’s just a physical reaction.”
Annoyed that he read me so easily and called me out on it, and maybe a wee bit petty, I gently…ish, backhanded his very physical dilemma. He coughs, bending over to grip the table. “Maybe that will help with your physical reaction.”
After a second, he stands upright, glaring at me. Fingers wrap around my throat, pulling me to him, brushing my mouth with his. My body heats, and an embarrassing amount of arousal drips down my legs. “Hate to disappoint you, Halfpint, but your little love tap only made me harder.” His tongue rolls across my lips before diving into my mouth. His hunger is only surpassed by my own as I press myself into him.
Then he stops. Just stops. No warning. No sign. It’s so abrupt, I nearly fall on my face when he turns me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Come on. We’re wasting valuable time.”
I’ve almost gathered my wits when he leads me into the sauna. “Why is it empty?” I ask, looking around the steam-filled room for signs of life. The few I’ve been in always have one or two other people, at least.
“I rented out the room for our session in case you wanted to get comfortable.” He waggles his brows with a smirk.
“And let me guess. You didn’t want anyone else seeing me naked? Even though I literally walked around wearing nothing but dental floss last night.” He makes a feral sound in the back of his throat, making me laugh. “Are you this possessive and bossy with everyone?”
“Only the ones who’ve been in my bed.”
“Oh, is that all?” I wave a hand in the air with a grin. “That’s what? Half of New York?”
“You want the truth, Halfpint?”
“Sure. Hit me with it. What are we talking? A few dozen? A few hundred? Thousands?”
“Damn, you think I’m just out there nailing anything that moves, don’t you?” He doesn’t sound amused, and it makes me feel a little guilty. Okay, a lot guilty. But why wouldn’t he? He’s a healthy, red-blooded guy with an appetite for sex. There’s nothing wrong with that.
“I’m not judging, Jagger. I get the one-night stand life. I’ve lived it for years. Remember,” I lift my left leg and point my toes. “Dancer schedule. Hookups are the closest thing I get to a relationship. I admit it’s been a bit of a dry spell recently, but I have a good sex drive, and no shame in taking what I want. Last year I was with probably—”
“Stop. For the love of God, stop. Fuck, I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“Why my brother gets all growly over the thought of someone touching Casey.” He inhales sharply and exhales just as hard as he drags his fingers through his sweat-soaked strands. “I don’t want to know who or how many guys you’ve been with, like…ever. Just spare me that bit of oversharing, will ya?”
“Are you slut shaming me?” My arms fold over my chest as I glare at him.
“No. I’m telling you that I’m jealous as fuck, and the thought of you with anyone else makes me feel a little ragey. You’ve seen what happens when I get ragey, right? And for the fucking record, I might not be a goddamn saint, butyouare the only person, male or female that’s ever slept in my bed aside from me.”
“Seriously?” The word barely makes it out. I don’t know if I want to kiss him or bolt. Jealous of my past? The only person in his bed? It’s all so heavy.
That tight, panicky feeling from earlier is threatening to re-emerge when I feel myself lifted until I’m straddling his lap. “You know what’s so funny?”
