Looking Inside

The clink of glasses and the low murmur of other patron’s conversation blended into a low, pulsing hum in his ears.

“Do you just want to torture me, or have actual sex with me?” he demanded succinctly, sick of thrashing around in confusion and lust.

“Can I?”

Air puffed out of his lungs. He glanced around the sparsely populated bar, again half expecting to find someone filming his gobsmacked reaction for an Internet joke. None of the other patrons looked remotely interested in him and Eleanor. This was real. She was.

He didn’t quite know what to make of her, but at least she was honest about what she wanted. He had to give her that.

“If you want to,” he said, unable to hide his puzzlement. “God knows I want to.”

“Oh, good,” she gushed as if relieved. She smiled then, bright and sexy, like the first time she smiled at him in the coffee shop. He reacted just the same as he had then: by sweating and growing stiff as a board. Her effortless effect on him sent up a red flag. He leaned forward intently. Whatever expression he wore caused her smile to fade.

“But let’s get this straight,” he said. “If you’ve seen me in the bedroom a few times, then you might already know this: I call the shots. You’re not going to yank my chain anymore. Do you understand?”

She nodded, eyes wide.

“Well . . . not unless I ask you to,” he added after a moment’s consideration. Her mouth curled. He felt that grin all the way to his crotch. He couldn’t help but smile back. Sure, her seductions were torture, but it’d be entering new erotic territory, to know he controlled the climax of her brain-twisting little displays.

“When do you want to start?” she asked.

“I’ve actually sworn off sex for a while.”

Her face fell.

“But I was thinking of starting again soon. Like . . . right now?” he added hopefully.

He noticed her pulse was fluttering like mad at her throat. He suddenly didn’t think he could stand waiting another minute before he felt it beneath his mouth.

“I was thinking the same thing. But I don’t want to encourage any bad habits on your part.”

“Yeah, you do,” he corrected her grimly. She didn’t argue, just wore that cat-that-ate-the-canary smile of hers. “You’re being straight with me, so I should be honest with you in return, though. I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment. If we do this, can we just keep it . . . light?”

“Light?”

He exhaled in frustration. He’d never actually said that to a woman before, and realized how selfish it probably sounded. But he was just trying to be honest about his intentions. “I just lost some people that I cared about, and I’ve had some pretty bad dating experiences recently. I’ve been trying to take some time to myself. Get some perspective.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sounding like she meant it.

He nodded. “I was trying to do some self-examination,” he admitted. “Hopefully some self-improvement. That’s why I’m off women for a while. Or I’m supposed to be, anyway. Women have been kind of . . . unhealthy for me recently,” he explained, lifting his glass and taking a swallow.

“Are you worried you’re a sex addict?”

He snorted into his drink, startled by her earnest question. “I wasn’t . . . but now I kind of am.”

She appeared regretful and amused at once. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to suggest you were. Really,” she insisted when she noticed his dubious expression. “It’s just . . . you seem to know a lot of women. And you said they were unhealthy for you—”

“They tend to make me stupid, that’s all,” he mumbled.

“Women make you stupid,” she repeated flatly, her brow creasing in that sweet, curious expression he liked.

“Yeah, you’re right. I probably sound like an ass saying that. I might be the one who’s the problem. Maybe I’m not cut out for the relationship thing, I don’t know. Point being, I was trying to figure things out, one way or another. I was doing okay until I looked up and saw you sitting at the coffee shop.”

“You’re making me feel guilty.”

“I’m not trying to. I’m telling you all this because if we do this, it’ll just be about sex. I can’t commit to anything else at the moment. Or better to say, I shouldn’t. Is that all right with you?”

“Of course. That’s all I want too.”