Burned Deep (Burned 1)

“No. Nothing like that. It’s not—it’s not that.”

He tried a different tactic. “How do you like to be fucked?”

I pulled in a slice of air. “Hard and fast. My clothes still on.”

His brow knitted. “Every time?”

I nodded.

“Tell me about the last time. No, don’t.” He raked a hand through his hair, as though knowing the details would torment him. “Give me an idea, so I know what we’re talking about here.”

I wasn’t sure this was the right path to travel, but I offered the highlights. “I’ll see a man in a hotel bar, sit next to him, let him buy me a drink or two. I’ll suggest we go to his room—or he will. I don’t need to know his name. I don’t need to know anything about him. We go at it. No foreplay. Not much touching. No kissing. Five, ten minutes later, I leave.”

His jaw tightened as he took this all in. Then he asked, “Why so impersonal?”

“I don’t want to get involved. Intimacy gets too complicated. It leads to emotions you can’t control. Ones that can be … devastating.”

The furrowed brow jerked up. “And you don’t consider what we just did intimate?”

I nodded slowly, steeling myself. “Yes. And that’s dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what happens when things like this go wrong. My grandparents, my parents … really volatile splits. Also”—I gave a small shrug, though this was no minuscule matter—“My dad was totally blindsided by my mother’s cheating. It destroyed him. For quite some time. He was a mess. And that wreaked havoc on his career. His life. My life.”

Dane rested his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward. “You think history will repeat itself?”

“I do believe it’s genetic.”

“Cheating?”

“No,” I was quick to say. “I would never do that to anyone. Especially since I know the kind of pain it causes. I just don’t think I’m wired to get deeply involved.”

“So … no kidding when you told me you weren’t the marrying kind.”

“No kidding.”

“Hmm.” His dark eyes clouded as he sat back in his seat.

“We’re just talking about sex, right?” I dared to ask. “Between us. Anything more—” I shook my head.

I suspected the socialites in his circle fell hard and fast for him, that he was used to it. How could he not be? He was rich, gorgeous, intelligent, and powerful. And I’d seen the extraordinarily beautiful Mikaela Madsen fawn over him. Which probably drove Fabrizio nuts.

Not to mention, Dane knew how to make a woman come hard enough to see stars

. I’d learned that firsthand, and he hadn’t even touched me, not really. So it was an easy assumption to make that he left plenty of wet thongs and broken hearts in his wake.

He asked, “You’re kind of young to be this jaded, don’t you think?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“I know.”

Of course he did.

“I don’t really consider it being jaded,” I told him. “I consider it being smart.”

He ground his teeth. Then he said, “Come here.”