“It does to me,” she muttered.
“Which? Your number or mine?”
“Both!”
“Why? It bothers you that I’ve slept with so many women?”
“Of course it does.”
“But… why?”
“I don’t know. It just… does. What if you don’t like something about me?
You can go back to any of them. But I’ll be alone.”
“Not really. I can’t go back. Trust me. I burned some of those bridges pretty thoroughly. And I don’t want to go back to most of them.”
“Most?”
“Okay, any of them. Gina was the only one, and you know who I chose.”
I reached out tentatively and touched her chin. When she didn’t brush me off, I coaxed her to look at me. “I chose you. I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”
“I know,” she said glumly. “I just get scared. Like tonight. I know you want to go all the way, but I’m not ready.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I gently urged her toward me. She unfolded and came into my arms. “I told your dad I’m in it for the long haul, and I mean it.”
“Marianne said the same thing.”
“Because it’s true.”
She rested her cheek against my chest and let out a deep, shuddering breath of released tension.
“And I don’t care how many guys you’ve been with.”
“I know,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“Just like you shouldn’t care how many women I’ve been with.”
“I can’t count that high anyway,” she said with a feeble laugh. “More than ten.”
“Probably.”
She sat back. “More than fifteen?”
“I don’t really know for sure.”
“Twenty?”
“I’ve never counted.”
“Twenty-five?” Her eyes had grown wider with each new number.
“Maybe. Probably.”
“Thirty?”
I hedged. “Thereabouts, I think.”
“Thereabouts-more or -less?”
“More. But like I said, I haven’t counted. I mean, it isn’t a game where you keep score.” I chuckled at a random thought. “It’s real people with real lives and real emotions.”
“Yeah, but that’s a lot of real people.”
“So? Am I tainted by any of them? Do I smell like pussy or something?”
“Now you’re just being vulgar.”
“Well, yes, but the question still stands. Do I smell like other women?”
“You know you don’t.”
“Do I look any different because I’ve been with them?”
“No, but—”
“Sound different? Taste funny? Feel weird?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“I am. But how am I any different if I’ve been with one woman or thirty?”
“I don’t know. You just… are.”
“I am different one way: the experience thing we talked about.”
“You can say that again.”
I leveled my eyes at her. “And who benefits from that?”
“I do.”
“Anyone else?”
“No,” she said reluctantly.
“So let me see if I understand,” I said. “I don’t look, sound, smell, taste, or feel different. The only thing different about me is I’m pretty good at sex.
And you’re the only one who gets to benefit.”
“It doesn’t sound so bad when you put it that way.”
“What way does it sound bad?”
“When you say you’ve been with thirty women!”
“Okay,” I said, a touch pedantically, “let’s go over this again. I don’t look, sound, smell—”
“All right, I get it! You’re the same. Fine!”
“And who benefits?”
“I do! Dammit! Sometimes you’re infuriating.”
I actually laughed.
“This isn’t funny,” she muttered darkly.
“No, you’re right. But you’re really cute when you swear. That’s… what?
The second time I’ve ever heard you do it?”
“So I’m human. So sue me.”
“Can I use you instead?”
She rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you be serious?”
“Because this is sort of a ridiculous fight.”
“It’s not ridiculous to me. I’m serious. I’m really scared! What if you don’t like something about me and decide to go back to Gina? Or Kendall?
Or any of the other twenty-eight! What if you get tired of waiting for me?
What if you find out how many guys I’ve been with? What if—?”
“What if you shut up and kiss me?”
“What if—? Huh? What?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
She frowned and tried to figure out my angle.
I leaned forward and brought my lips close to hers without actually touching her.
“What’re you doing?” she asked softly.
“Kiss me and see.”
She touched her lips to mine, tentatively at first, but she didn’t resist as I pulled her toward me. I cupped her ass and urged her closer still, so she spread her legs and knelt with her shins on my thighs. Our kiss deepened until I felt her relax and surrender to it.
“There,” I said at last, softly. “Does it feel like I want to go back to Gina?”
“No.”
“Kendall?”
“No.”
“Any of the other twenty-eight?”
“No. I get it. Shut up and kiss me again.”
I did.
She had to stifle a laugh when Mr. Big nudged her insistently.
“See?” I said. “I told you, sex is mental. He’s in the mood because you are.”
“I am.”
“And… does it feel like I care how many guys you’ve been with?”
“No. I can tell.” She dithered and then looked at me. “Even if it’s… six?”
“Even if it’s twenty-six.”
“Oh my gosh, no! What kind of—?”
“I think you’re the kind of girl who likes sex,” I said evenly. “And especially giving head.” I held her eyes until she calmed down. “Now, do you know anyone who likes getting head?”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh. You.”
“Ding, ding, ding!”
She grew quiet and gathered her courage. “Can I… um… ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Remember, you said I could ask you anything. You might like it, you said. Remember?”
“I remember.”
“I know it sounds weird, but not any weirder than what you like.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “What is it?”
“Will you… shave?”
“Is my face scratching you? I shaved this morn—”
“No, not your face. Um… down there. You know, like I do. For you.” My eyebrows must have tried to do a backflip, because she immediately said,
“Never mind. It’s dumb. Forget I said anything.” She buried her face in my shoulder. “Oh my gosh. You must think I’m so weird. First biting and spanking, and now this.”
I chuckled and kissed the side of her head gently. “No, I don’t think you’re weird. Sexy as hell and wilder than I ever imagined, but that’s a good thing.” I waited until she peeked through a curtain of blonde hair. “So,” I asked, “you want me to shave my pubic hair?”
She hesitated and then nodded.
“More than I do already?”
Another nod.
“All of it?”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It was only a dumb idea.”
“No, it sounds kinda cool.”
“You mean it? Really? None of the—” She shot me a nervous look.
“You can say it,” I prompted. “None of the other guys…”
“Only, I don’t really know. I never asked. I didn’t think they would.”
“But you think I will?”
“Well, you want me to shave,” she said reasonably. “What kind of hypocrite are you?”