“What did I do?” he asked in resignation. “Whatever it is, I apologize. I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, and you were right, right, right.”
Despite the actual gravity of her proposed topic, she laughed. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t even know what I want to talk about.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said solemnly. “Men as a species are wrong. We’re better off admitting it up front, taking our punishment and then hoping for good makeup sex.”
“Hmm, well actually sex is what I want to talk about. Still interested in being wrong?”
He perked up. “Sex? Um, sure. If me being wrong gets me sex, then sign me up.”
She frowned. “That’s just it, Sawyer. I get the impression you don’t want sex . . . with me.”
The look of absolutewhat the fuckon his face cheered her considerably. He looked so stunned by her statement that he went slack against her, and she nearly slid down his thighs. She scrambled upward, and he caught her behind again, hoisting her back up.
“Not want sex with you?” he said in a strangled voice. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, woman, where did you get that dumbass idea?”
She gazed down at him, all attempts at teasing gone. “Why do you hold back with me, Sawyer? Don’t you think I’d figure it out? You haven’t exactly been subtle. I know you. Maybe better than anyone. The two times you’ve made love to me, you haven’t once actually penetrated me. Well, unless you count a blowjob.”
He stiffened at her bluntness. Unease crawled across his face, and this time he actually did let her slide down his legs until she was back on the floor, standing in front of him again.
“You think . . . you think it’s because I don’t want you?” he asked hoarsely.
She shrugged. “Honestly? No, I don’t think that, though it’s easy to see why I would. What I really think is that you’re holding back out of some misguided fear of hurting me.”
There was a flash of acknowledgment in his eyes that told her she was definitely on the right track.
Sawyer sighed and tried to turn away, but she nailed him in the chest with her finger.
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not dodging this one, buddy.” She grabbed handfuls of his T-shirt and pulled tight. “Talk to me, Sawyer. Please?”
Troubled blue eyes stared back at her. Regret. Fear. Shining like beacons. Her stomach knotted.
“It’s not because I don’t want you, honey,” he said gruffly. “Hell, I’m a walking hard-on around you.”
“Then why?” she prompted.
He looked down. “I’m not like the others, Reggie. Not smooth like Cam. He’s all cultured andsensitive.”
“You make him sound like a pussy,” she said dryly.
Sawyer ignored her. “And Hutch is all lovey and tender. Shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were his first and only.”
“Second,” she corrected.
“I rest my case.”
“But Sawyer, what does that have to do with anything? So Hutch hasn’t slept around much. So Cam prefers the Learning Channel to sports. We’re not all joined at the hip. It’s okay to be different.”
“Because you deserve better. I’ve slept with a hell of a lot of women. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not torturing myself over it either.”
“You’re not?” she asked pointedly.
“Let me finish,” he said impatiently. “I like sex. I like sex without commitment. I’ve had sex with a lot of women who were on the same page as me. But you’re different, Reggie. With you . . . it matters.”
He cupped his hands over her shoulders and stared earnestly into her eyes.
“You deserve to be made love to.” He shifted uncomfortably and relaxed his hold on her shoulders. “I’m not good at that.”
“So what are you good at?” she asked calmly. “Are you saying you suck at sex?”
