She snaps her mouth shut.
I continue, “Neither of us wants anything serious.”
She studies me, her rosebud lips twisting to the side.
“And webothhad fun last night,” I continue quickly when I can see she’s about to lie through her perfect teeth again. “And don’t you fuckin’ lie to me. You can’tfakesquirt. I Googled it this morning.”
Rolling her eyes, Hannah folds her arms across her chest, which only pushes her perky little breasts together. “So, what are you proposing? Casual sex?”
“Friends with benefits.” I grin.
“Friends?” She frowns, her side-eye full of disdain. “I barely eventolerateyou let alonelikeyou.”
“Wow,” I guffaw. “Okay then, enemies with benefits.”
“Enemies is a bit harsh. I mean, it’s not like I want you todie,” she says.
“Well… thanks… I guess?” I chuckle.
“Frenemieswith benefits,” she counters.
“Frenemies with benefits,” I repeat.
Her gaze trails downward, zeroing in on the way the legs of my shorts have ridden up, showcasing my impressive quads, if I say so myself. I bite back a shit-eating grin. “Eyes up, Baby Draper…”
Hannah looks up at me, and I waggle my eyebrows suggestively. “What do you say?”
She hesitates, and in the flash of an instant, I see an uncharacteristic fragility in her blue eyes, one that is gone almost as quick as it appeared.
“I have one condition,” she says, holding up a finger.
“Name it.”
“No other women.”
“Aw, you jealous, baby?” I drag the backs of fingers across her soft cheek.
“Ew, no!” She shoves my hand away, and, with a pause, that fragility is back, only this time, she doesn’t bother trying to conceal it. “But I really can’t be the other woman. Not again.”
Wow. What happened between her and Chris really affected her, and I fucking hate that. With a thick swallow, I nod. “Okay. No other women. I swear.”
Something passes between us. An understanding of sorts. But it’s gone in a flash as Hannah says, “And you have to get tested because I hate condoms, and I’m not about to catch anything because your dick’s been in half the women of New York.”
I press my lips together, snorting a laugh. What’s funny is that she has no idea how unnecessary her stipulation is. Am I a playboy? Iwas. But aside from the occasional one-night hook-up when I’m on the road, I haven’t been the slutty asshole peoplewrite me off as for at least a couple of years. Back then, my playboy title was one I wore proudly. Now, it’s a façade I use to hide behind. But she doesn’t know that. Nobody does. And, for now, that’s fine with me. “Okay. Deal. I’ll get tested. Tomorrow. Just for you.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since Chris, and I got tested after him because he was a cheating scumbag, and I didn’t trust that I was his only sidepiece…” Trailing off, she rolls her eyes at herself and holds her hand out like we’re settling on some sort of international trade agreement.
I shake her proffered hand, but before she can pull away, I bring it to my lips, kissing the back of her knuckles slowly. Yanking it back, she wipes the skin I just kissed over her leggings, like I’m not about to use those same exact lips to suck her clit in about T-minus five minutes.
Hannah hops out, and I follow, hurrying through the rain. She stops, swinging around to me, a crease etched between her eyebrows as she holds a hand against my chest. “Um, what do you think you’re doing?”
I look from her up to her apartment building and back again. “Coming up to fuck.”
“Now?” She gapes at me.
“Uh, yeah…” I shrug a shoulder.
“I’m all sweaty and gross,” she says, looking down at herself. “I need to shower.”
