Must not diminish the value of the cock.
“How old are you?” she blurted after they’d ordered. She’d already been served cinnamon coffee, while Michael had ordered a lemon-lime soda.
He choked on the sip he’d been taking from his straw. “What?”
“How old are you?” she enunciated slowly. Normally she didn’t ask men their age, since she figured as long as they were legal it wasn’t her place to police other people’s bedroom proclivities. Some guys liked older women, just like she couldn’t help being attracted to younger men. Who was she to judge?
But Michael was setting off too many bells in her brain. What if he was scarily young? Like barely twenty-one? Mid-twenties was one thing. Barely done with college another.
“I’m thirty,” he said smoothly, almost too smoothly to her practiced eye. He flashed her his disarming grin, causing her fingers to flex around the handle of her mug. “What about you? Or should a gentleman never ask a lady such personal details?”
“Perhaps not, but I’m not a lady. Are you a gentleman?”
He flicked his tongue over the corner of his mouth and caught a stray drop of soda. He’d probably taste like a juicy lemon, all tart and sweet. “I always make sure I take care of a woman in my company, so…maybe.”
Kim didn’t reply as the waitress reappeared to take their order. They both chose bowls of the turkey and wild rice soup with thick slabs of sourdough bread. The instant the waitress left, Kim lifted her eyebrows at Michael. “I’m thirty-nine.”
He didn’t jerk back in horror, which had to be a positive sign. “If I’d had to guess, I would’ve guessed upper twenties.”
“I’m not susceptible to flattery.” She reached for a packet of sugar then added two more. After splashing in a healthy dollop of cream, she glanced up to find him watching her. “What?”
“Are you susceptible to the truth? Because you’re gorgeous and honestly, I couldn’t give a fig how old you are.”
Only the fact that he seemed as surprised as she did at what came out of his mouth kept her from tossing back some smart remark. Instead she went with stupid. “Uh, thanks. I guess.”
Now who was the one who sounded inexperienced? That would be her, and that never happened.
She couldn’t figure this guy out. First he played the part of the confident nude model, happily waving his penis around like a pole without a flag. Then he went shy on her. Now he’d bolstered himself enough to toss out compliments accompanied by that panty-abandoning smile.
If she wore panties.
Okay, so she did. But usually only during the work week.
“Come on. Other men must tell you that on the regular.”
She cocked her head. “On the regular? Really? No one who’s thirty talks like that. Actually no one talks like that, period.” She crossed her arms on the edge of the table, her wrist full of bangle bracelets clanging noisily. “Level with me, model man. You’re really about to head off to Cancun for spring break, aren’t you?”
Michael’s jaw locked before he visibly released it. “Did you actually accuse me of being a senior in high school? As in eighteen?”
“I meant college, but if the varsity letter fits…” She shook her head. “Next you’ll tell me you’re a virgin.”
He didn’t laugh or blush, merely studied her for so long that her skin seemed to shrink in direct proportion to the warmth of his stare. “Nope, not going to tell you that.”
The waitress picked that less-than-ideal moment to return with their soups and a basket of hot, yeasty bread. Normally Kim would’ve dug in before the plates even hit the table. Now she couldn’t seem to get her arms to unclamp from the edge of the table. In a second, her muscles would be quivering.
“Just FYI, virginity isn’t a curse,” he said once the waitress left. He picked up a piece of bread and buttered it, then shocked the heck out of her by setting it next to the soup she hadn’t touched. “Surely you were a virgin once?”
“I guess. I can’t remember anymore.”
He surprised her by laughing, and the tension between them ebbed away. He’d been yanking her chain, that was all there was to it. “I’ve heard born-agains are pretty popular.”
“I’m not a born-again anything. The first time was plenty, thanks.”
“New question. Are you single?”
“Dude, I’m so single my vagina thinks I’ve abandoned it for wetter pastures.” At his wide eyes, her laughter turned into a snort. She picked up her piece of bread and took a bite. The moan that escaped was purely accidental.
The look he gave her, however? Incendiary, with a side of oh shit.