Talon (Ashes & Embers 4)

My stomach does a small flip and a flush of heat comes over me. "I wish I could say the same about you. It seems like you have quite the reputation."

He smirks. "Guilty as charged, jelly bean. Sorry."

I brace myself to ask my next question. "Are you able to be faithful?"

The tip of his e-cig glows blue while he takes a long drag off of it. "I think so," he finally says, with a hint of uncertainty.

"You think?" I repeat. "You have to be sure. I can't be married to a cheater."

"Is it cheating if we're not having sex?" he teases, tilting his head to the side.

I glare at him and push my own plate off to the side, my appetite suddenly gone. "Yes, Talon. It is."

"Take it easy, I'm just kidding. I'm sure I won't cheat on you. I've gone a month without it so far, so that's a record for me."

I feel as if I were just slapped at his words. "A month?" I repeat. "You had sex a month ago?"

He shrugs cluelessly. "Around that time. Give or take a week."

Shaking my head, I stand and walk away from the table. I can't believe he slept with another girl just a few weeks ago. Part of the process was that we were supposed to stop sexual relations with others when we found out our partner was a definite and the wedding date was set. We knew that three months ago.

He stands up and follows me to where I'm standing at the window. "What's wrong now?"

I continue to stare out the window at the lake where we had our pictures taken last night. The first place we kissed. "You knew about me then. You knew we had a wedding date already."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't know you. I just knew it was gonna happen."

I finally turn to stare up at him. "And that wasn't enough?"

He throws his hands up. "I don't know, I didn't even think about it in that way. I was just doing my usual shit."

"That's great," I scoff.

"It was just sex with some groupies. It didn't mean anything. It never means anything. We have sex and they leave. That's it," he says defensively.

"That's awful!" He said groupies. That’s multiple girls.

I walk away from him and flop onto the couch, crossing my arms over me. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about him having sex with all sorts of women while we were supposed to be thinking about getting married and committing to this process in every way. I was so excited when I found out they had my match picked and I was technically considered engaged. All I could think about was finally meeting him. I daydreamed constantly about what he would look like, how he would act, how we would fall in love at first sight.

Meanwhile, he was screwing groupies with no thought or care about me at all.

"Well, sorry, babe, but that’s how it's always been for me."

"Stop calling me babe! You call everyone babe."

"Sorry." He kneels down on the floor in front of me, but I refuse to look at him. "Are you jealous?"

"No!" Maybe a little. "I was just hoping my future husband would show some restraint and commit to everything, like we were supposed to."

"Okay, I fucked up a little. I won't do it again. I promise."

"Does Dr. Hollister know about this?"

He shrugs again. "I dunno. I didn't tell her."

"She probably would have kicked you out of the experiment if she knew."

"Too late now. Here we are."

I want to kick him. "Here we are?" I repeat. "What about the tests? How do I know you're clean now?"

His voice rises defensively. "I don't have any diseases. I was tested two weeks ago. Again. And I always wear protection."

I twirl my finger around in the air. "Oh, yay!" I say sarcastically.

"So when's the last time you did, Miss Perfect?"

"Did what?"

"Had sex with someone."

Shit. I don't want to tell him the truth about that now, or he'll think I'm a freak for sure. "That's none of your business, but it was definitely not a month ago. I followed all the rules."

He twirls his finger in the air, mocking me. "Yay for you. So tell me when."

"No."

His lips curve into a slightly evil smile. "Tell me or I'll tickle you."

I shake my head. "No. It was longer than three months; that's all you need to know."

Before I can move, he lunges at me and starts tickling my sides, sending me into a fit of giggles. I am wickedly ticklish. I can't believe he's figured it out in less than a day and has used it twice now to break me. I grab at his hands. "Stop! Please!" I beg, laughing uncontrollably. He completely overpowers me with his size and muscle and pulls me onto the floor, kneeling over me, holding my hands in his at my sides.

"You can't tickle me every time you want to get your way," I exclaim, trying to catch my breath.

His hair falls down over his face as he smiles down at me. "Yes, I can." Even though he's straddling me, it doesn't go unnoticed that he's careful not to crush me. It also doesn't go unnoticed that his muscular thighs around my body put me in a position where I can't ignore the thick bulge evident beneath the thin faded jeans he's got on. Hot damn.

"Tell me," he prods again, still holding my hands.

"It's been a long time." I divert my gaze from his package and stare up into his face instead.

"How long?"

Sighing, I shift my attention over toward the windows. "Three years."

"Three fucking years?" he repeats loudly in disbelief. "How the hell are you even alive?"

"Ha-ha," I say, squirming. "Let me go, please."

"Not yet. First, tell me why so long?"

I glare up at him. "Do you really have to embarrass me like this?"

"I'm not trying to embarrass you at all. I'm just trying to get to know you and figure you out."

"I haven't had a relationship in a long time, and I've had really bad luck dating lately. I told you, I don't jump into bed with men just for sex, so…it's been three years. Happy now?"

Kneeling down over me and bringing our hands up over my head on the floor, his face is inches from mine, his long, loose hair tickling my face. "I can fix that for you," he offers, pressing his hard cock between my parted thighs. My pulse quickens while my long-forgotten pussy quivers from just that slight pressure of him against me.

"I thought I wasn't what you wanted." My voice cracks, betraying my efforts to hide the fact he's starting to get to me.

"I thought so too." He lets go of one of my hands and slides his free hand down my arm, then over my ribs, brushes the slight curve of my hip, and finally grabs my outer thigh, pulling me against him. "But my body apparently wants you…and I think yours wants me too."

A little gasp escapes my throat. "I want more than that," I breathe, wanting that and so much more now.

He nuzzles his face into my neck, his teeth gently nipping me, and I fight the urge to wrap my legs around him.

"It's eleven inches, baby. How much more do you want?"

"Ugh!" I push him off me and he rolls over onto the floor on his back, laughing. "It's not funny," I say, slapping his arm.

"I'm just kidding."

"How do you know it's eleven inches, anyway?"

"I measured it. We can do a recount if you want. Call the front desk and ask for a ruler."

I shake my head and suppress my laughter. "Can you try to be serious for a minute?"

He sits up and leans against the couch, trying to force himself to stop laughing. "All right. I'll be serious," he says, pursing his lips together and looking pretty ridiculous. His hair is all rumpled, so I hesitantly reach out and comb it down with my fingers.

"I've been thinking about some of this," I begin. "And we're obviously at opposite ends of the spectrum with sex. You said it's all women want you for, and that for you, it's just sex. But for me, it's the opposite. I can't have sex without emotions being there. I think that’s part of our challenge here: for you not to have sex until there are some real feelings involved, and for me to show you that you're more than just a good lay."

He blinks sheepishly. "Ya think?"

"I do."

"That seems like a lot of work, and it could totally backfire. Why would they do that to us?"

"Maybe so we learn to appreciate each other?"

"But what if the feelings never happen, for either of us?"

That's exactly what I'm worried about because I simply cannot see us falling in love. Being friends and having fun, maybe. But falling in love? I can't picture it.

"Then it's not meant to be," I murmur sadly.

"So then, no sex?"