“I’m, well, I’m not really feeling it, Sean.”
He stared at me for several protracted moments. I was certain no woman had ever pressed pause on him before. Christ, most of the women he slept with were probably so elated to be doing it with Sean Cassidy that they didn’t even care if the sex was crap.
Well, not this woman.
If sex didn’t feel good, then there wasn’t really a point for me. I didn’t shag for status.
“You’re not feeling it.” The statement of acceptance rang with a note of hallow self-contempt, surprising me, forcing me to take a closer look at Sleazy Sean Cassidy.
Resentment hardened his features, but his bitterness was turned decidedly inward. He wasn’t angry with me. He was upset with himself.
And that’s when I realized the truth.
Sean knew he was rubbish at foreplay. Something in my expression must’ve registered my discovery because he flinched and sat back away from me. He ran a hand through his hair, looking humiliated.
Sean Cassidy was blushing.
“You’re right,” he said through gritted teeth. “This was a bad idea.”
Rising from the sofa he brushed off his shirt and without another word, turned to leave.
A brick dropped to the pit of my stomach, my gut twisted and I suddenly felt terrible. He was so big, so powerful, cocky, and yet in that moment appeared terribly inconsequential, defenseless, and humiliated. Alone.
Without thinking, I stood, grabbing the towel and quickly covering myself before going after him.
“Wait,” I called.
He turned around stiffly, hands on his hips as he stared at the floor. “What?”
Jeez, he sounded angry. “I’m sorry.”
Now he looked up, his stare glacial. “Don’t apologize. Never apologize for not wanting to have sex. You were just being honest.”
“Yes, true. But, here’s the thing, I do want to have sex, with you. I do.”
He barked a bitter laugh. “A pity fuck? Don’t do me any favors.”
“No,” I replied firmly. Now I frowned at him. “That’s not what this is. I like you. You turn me on and I want to have sex with you, but I just think we’re playing from two different songbooks. Like, I’m performing Mozart but you’re rocking out to Led Zeppelin. We both need to be playing the same tune.”
The reluctant glimmer of hope behind his gaze made me want to hug him. I could see he was more than tempted and his vulnerability boosted my confidence.
I added for good measure, “If not the same tune, then at least the same genre.”
Sean rubbed his jaw, his mouth tugging to the side with an adorably shy smirk, and he took a step forward. “So what are you suggesting?”
I swallowed, remembering our wonderful kiss on the hill. If he could kiss like that then surely the rest was just a matter of . . .
A matter of . . .
Hmm . . .
“I’m suggesting we go inside my room and give this another try.”
His jaw worked as he considered my suggestion. After a long moment he finally replied, “Okay, then.”
I nodded and gestured for him to follow me into the bedroom. Once there I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. “Right so, first things first. Take off your clothes.”
His smirk widened—less adorably shy and more adorably cocky—but he didn’t make a move. I threw up my hands.
“Oh, come on. I’m not being a pervert. I’m practically naked and you’re fully clothed. We need to even the playing field a little.”
“Okay,” he responded softly and proceeded to pull his shirt off over his head. My mouth fell open as he revealed inch after inch of abs and perfectly toned muscle.
Perhaps I should just get him to stand there so I could look at him naked while I got myself off?
Nah, too weird.
Maybe next time.
Off went his jeans and then he was lowering his boxers to the floor. My eyes snagged on his dick, which was in proportion to the rest of his physique.
Okay, I could work with this. I could definitely work with this. His eyes heated and my breathing deepened as our gazes locked. He seemed preoccupied with the dip and curve of my collarbone, and I felt oddly exposed with his eyes there.
“Tell me what to do,” he said in a low, husky voice, and I watched as his cock began to harden with alarming speed.
I didn’t say anything for so long that he started to approach the bed. I found myself shifting up as far as the pillows, pulling my knees to my chest as I contemplated the gorgeous hulk of a man who wanted to have his wicked way with me.
I just had to tell him what to do.
Right.
Think, Lucy. Think!
He was already kneeling on the bed, completely naked, and gripping my calves to pull my legs apart. The movement caused my towel to fall free once more, and his attention wandered to my breasts. He took his time admiring them before lifting his gaze to my face.
He must have found something funny in my expression because he chuckled in amusement. “I’m waiting, Lucy.”