His aching cock sure as hell hoped so, but his brain was far more skeptical. “Em…what exactly do you want out of this? I don’t even know how long you’re in town for.”
She exhaled a wobbly breath, suddenly resembling that innocent girl he’d known all those years ago. “I’m here until after New Year’s.” She paused. “And what I want is…” Another shaky breath slipped out. “Sex, okay? That’s what I want, and that’s all this can be, Dean. Just really good sex between two people who used to be in a relationship. I can’t promise we won’t get interrupted by my work again. I can’t promise anything, actually. But I think we can have a good time while I’m here.”
Jesus. The irony of ironies. Emma was reciting the same speech he’d given to women countless times before. He had to admit, it felt oddly disheartening to be on the receiving end of it.
“Look, we obviously still have chemistry,” she said with a faint smile. “So if you’re interested in fooling around while I’m in San Francisco, I’m totally down for it.”
He hesitated, and a flicker of aggravation crossed her eyes.
“I’m not sure why I’m even standing here trying to convince you,” she grumbled. “A little birdie said you were voted Bay Area’s Player of the Year.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “The little birdie is lying.” He grinned. “It was Manwhore of the Year, voted on only by Suz, and given to me in the form of a certificate she created in Photoshop then printed and framed like an old black-velvet Elvis painting.”
Emma’s melodic laughter heated his insides, but her humor didn’t linger, because she glanced at her watch again and frowned. “Shit. I have to call them back.”
“I’ll get out of your way, then.” Regret floated through him as Emma walked him to the door of the suite. Not only that, but he was pretty sure he was in for the biggest case of blue balls in the history of mankind.
In the doorway, she leaned on her tiptoes to kiss him, and Dean had to acknowledge that this was the strangest day ever. From start to finish.
“Am I going to see you again?” she asked softly.
A part of him was tempted to say no. For some reason, he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the idea that Emma was simply using him for sex.
On the other hand, who the hell was he kidding? This was Emma, the hottest woman on the planet and the only one who’d ever rocked his world hard enough to make him come back for more.
So…yeah…no was actually no-brainer. Besides, it went well with his goal of proving he’d changed. Nonstop, out-of-this-world sex, plus time to make his point? How could he turn that down? It was a win-win situation.
Dean dipped his head and kissed her again, dragging his tongue over her bottom lip before pulling back to rasp, “Call me the next time you’re free, and I’ll come over with bells on.”
“Okay.”
He opened the door and stepped into the hall, but Emma stopped him before he could go.
“Dean?”
He turned his head to find her dark eyes gleaming devilishly. “Yeah?” he said gruffly.
“Screw the bells. Next time you come by, make sure you’re wearing nothing at all.”
Chapter Eleven
What did guys do when they were basically shoved out of a woman’s apartment still carrying a boner hard enough to use as the cornerstone for a high-rise?
Dean had no frickin’ idea.
He’d snuck out of women’s places in a rush before, hastily doing up his pants or pulling his shirt over his head as he escaped, but nine times out of ten those escapes were after the big event had already occurred. And the one time he remembered truly getting caught with his pants down, so to speak, Dean had deliberately crawled back through the woman’s window once her roommates had gone to bed, and the two of them had finished what they’d started, albeit a lot quieter than the couple of hours before.
What he’d never experienced was the whole coitus interruptus with no happy ending in the immediate future. No, what he was feeling as he got into his car was a brand-new sensation. It wasn’t one he liked, and that wasn’t just because every inch of his body ached.
Years ago he’d waited for Emma, but there had been something rewarding in making the sacrifice. Now both of them had not only lost the lottery, but had their winning tickets ripped from their hands and torn into shreds before their eyes.
Nope, he didn’t enjoy this sensation one bit. The only thing that made him feel the faintest bit happier was pulling out his phone and hitting speed dial.
Frankly, if he had to suffer, who better to suffer with him than his best buds?
The first call went to Parker, only after seven rings it wasn’t his friend who answered the phone breathlessly.
“Dean?” Lynn’s soft voice brought a smile to his lips, instantly washed away as she continued, her concern crystal clear. “Are you okay?”