“I’m so mad,” she groaned, as I rubbed my stubble all over her inner thighs. “All this time I could’ve enjoyed all of these things without having sex with anyone. What a waste.”
I bit her inner thigh, shooting my arm up to squeeze one of her tits in warning.
“Not all hookups were born equal.”
“No blip, Costello. You think Rob held a candle to what’s happening here the eight months I was with him?” She laughed softly.
My hard-on lowered to a semi just from hearing his name. A cool feeling washed over me, like someone threw a bucket of ice into my gut. I pushed through it, but it was the first time I found Tennessee to be less than absolutely delightful.
Bringing up an ex in bed was a dick move. I didn’t care how inexperienced she was. She wasn’t dumb. She was just so used to fucking up relationships, she didn’t care what came out of her mouth.
Rob’s mention did give the desired result of pissing me off, and so I ripped her underwear from her waist with little regard to the fact they snapped over her skin in the process.
She groused but immediately angled her hips toward my mouth, chasing my tongue.
I pressed my palm against her pussy, lowering her ass back to the mattress, looking up, my eyes meeting hers.
“A few ground rules, Turner.”
She blinked at me rapidly, waiting.
“No ex-talk in this bed. That’s not sporting.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course. Sorry.”
“If something gets too much, just say the word.”
“What word?”
I almost forgot she was the most literal geek in the whole, entire world. With her undiagnosed ADHD and puns and aversion to profanity. I thought about it for a moment.
“Banana.”
“All right.”
“And promise me one thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I won’t fall in love with you.”
My chest tensed, but I threw her an offhand smirk.
“Cute, but what you choose to do with our mutual attraction is none of my business. You’re a big girl. No. I want you to promise me you know I will not let you get pregnant, so don’t worry about it. Just let me make it good for you.”
She hesitated, her eyebrows pinching together.
“I don’t—”
I shook my head. “I’m not Rob.”
“You just said no ex-talk in bed.”
“This trumps all the rules. I’m not him. I’ll never do that to you. Or to myself. Or to our hypothetical baby. Trust me that much, at least?”
She gulped, her eyes dancing in their sockets. I could tell when it happened. When she decided to put her trust in my hands. To let go.
Her hazel eyes shone, and her lower lip trembled.
“Yeah,” she rasped. “Promise.”