“It may be. But you’re omitting.”
“Omitting what?”
“Past sexual behavior of your own. Because you think I’ll judge you.”
“I don’t think you’ll judge.” His arms slid around me possessively, protectively, holding us both under the warm water together.
I stared up into his eyes, reading between the lines of that response.
Something else, then. Something was holding him back from being transparent with me. I didn’t exactly ask for numbers.How many women have you screwed? How many women have you cheated on? How many women have you hurt?Because the numbers didn’t matter to me. Fact was, I knew he’d done all those things. Screwed. Cheated. Hurt.
In the past.
What mattered to me was how he treated women—including me—from this point on.
People could grow. And I didn’t feel an uncaring, hurtful person wrapping himself around me right now.
But whatever was holding him back, he was afraid it would drive me away. I could feel that in his hesitation to answer my direct question with a direct answer.
“Am I invited to one of these orgies?” I prodded.
His arms tightened around me. “Any of my friends invites you to an orgy,” he said in a low, possessive voice, “you telling me you don’t know the answer?”
I blinked innocently. “‘Ask Johnny’?”
“Johnny says no,” he growled.
“I meant, am I invited next time you have a party?” Our eyes were locked, tension thick in the steam around us. We both knew what I was really asking.
Are you planning to have steam room sex followed by an intimate shower with any other women anytime soon?
“The only party here,” he said darkly, “is in my pants, and you’re the only one invited.”
“You’re not wearing any pants,” I said innocently. “But thank you. I appreciate you calling off the orgies.”
“How would I have an orgy?” He shut off the shower, then started walking me backwards out of the room, predatory, his body steering mine where he wanted it. “You’re so hungry for my cock, none of the other girls would get any.”
“Poor girls,” I said sarcastically.
Then he kissed me. Hard and demanding, until I kissed him back as passionately and thoroughly as he was kissing me. He held me against him, hot and wet, naked flesh to naked flesh, easing me slowly backwards out of the gym the entire time. We stood on the back deck, the night air cool on my wet skin as he kissed me, hot and slow, like he could kiss me all night.
Then, suddenly, he lifted me up—and tossed me in the pool. My body crashed into the water, and after the steam room and the hot shower it felt fucking cold. Naturally, I screamed.
“You asshole!”
He’d jumped in after me, and as soon as he emerged I splashed water in his face.
“What?” He wiped water from his eyes. “You told me to toss you, in the steam room. I thought you were into that.”
“Nice try.” I splashed him again as he circled like a shark. “Don’t make me scream like that. What if Shayla came home?”
“She didn’t.” He grabbed me and pulled me against him, clearly pleased with himself. “And you already screamed up the backyard. What’s one more scream?” He dragged me with him to the shallow end, where he held me, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Don’t you dare even think about making me scream again. I’m spent.”Hmm.As the words came out of my mouth, I realized I’d never said those words to a man before.
I’d never actually been with a man who satisfied me so thoroughly that he actually wore me out. I wasn’t even sure if that was a little sad, or just fucking awesome that I’d finally found one who did. Both, maybe.
“What?” Johnny smoothed my hair back off my face, then cupped my head in his hand and tugged my face close to his. “What are you thinking?”
