Her eyes went dark with pleasure, and he damned near lost control.
Slow down, his head whispered, but his body was on a timetable of its own. He couldn’t wait. Not anymore.
He’d take her quickly this first time. Just unzip his jeans, enter her. Drive her up and up, fly with her into the sun. Then he’d make slow love to her, discover all the things that excited her, watch her face as she came, then let go and empty himself inside her…
Oh, God! His head snapped back as the awful truth hit home.
He had no condoms.
“Cam? Cam, what’s the matter?”
He looked down into her eyes, pools of deepest blue in the soft light of late afternoon, and let himself think what it would be like to enter her without protection. Slide deep into all that heat. Ride her, bareback.
Just the thought drove him dangerously close to the edge. Carefully, ignoring her whimper of protest, he sat back.
“We can’t do this,” he said gruffly.
“But I thought—I thought we both wanted—”
He leaned forward and kissed her, hard.
“We do, sweetheart. But I don’t have a condom.”
“A con…” Her face turned red. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” For a second, he wished he were seventeen again, a kid with a constant hard-on and a rubber always tucked in his wallet.
“But you don’t…” She hesitated. He could see her throat constrict as she swallowed, almost as if the intimacy of their talk embarrassed her. “You don’t need one. It’s—it’s safe.”
Safe? No way. Calendar roulette wasn’t his speed.
“I’m on the pill, Cam. Because—because my cycle’s irregular. That happens to some dancers.”
He felt his belly knot. Why go through such a convoluted explanation when they both knew damned well why she was on the pill?
“It’s from all the exercise.”
Oh, yes. She probably got a lot of exercise.
“It’s not one of those pills you have to take every day, so—”
“And a good thing it’s not,” he said coldly, welcoming his anger, knowing it was far safer than whatever he’d come close to feeling a couple of minutes ago. Smiling tightly, he rolled away from her. “Thanks. But there’s more to consider than calendars.”
“You mean—you mean, the possibility of—of disease?”
He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. She sounded as innocent as a schoolgirl. How in hell could he have forgotten what a fine actress she was?
“Yes,” he said coldly. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
“I don’t—I mean, I can’t—I mean…” Her color deepened. “Cam? I’m not—”
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re not. You probably have a health department certificate to prove it.” He bared his teeth. “Where are those things when a girl needs them, hmm?”
Her face went from pink to white in a heartbeat. “You son of a bitch!”
“Lay off the name-calling for a while, okay? I’m tired of it. Just go take your bath. I’ll see about that meal Shalla promised us.”
“I’d sooner starve than eat with—”