“You’re wrong,” I muttered. “I have done this before.”
To my surprise, I watched Braden’s expression change instantly from soft to hard. The look he gave me was unfathomable as the muscle in his jaw ticked. I felt like he was trying to bore inside me, but I couldn’t look away despite how uncomfortable it felt. “Done this before?” he asked softly.
I shrugged. “There was nothing in the deal about sharing our sexual histories. Suffice to say I know what I’m talking about. And there is no spooning or coffee in the morning in these kinds of deals.”
“Done this before?” he repeated. “I thought you said you hadn’t had sex in four years. That would make you eighteen the last time you had sex.”
Oh, I saw where he was going with that. I narrowed my eyes. “So?”
“When I was eighteen, most of the girls I knew thought they were in love with whoever they were shagging.”
“And?”
Braden shifted closer, trying to intimidate me. “So when have you done this before?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Fucking hell, Jocelyn, can you not answer one personal question?”
Anger blazed through me. I knew it. I freaking knew it. “That’s it, we’re done. This was a complete mistake.” I moved to get up but found myself tackled back onto the couch, flat on my back with Braden lying over me. I stared up at him wide-eyed. “You are such a caveman!”
An all-too-familiar pissed off Braden breathed dragon fire on me, his face inches from mine. “We’re not done. We’ve barely even started.”
I shimmied under him but that only concluded in him pressing his hips deeper into mine, and that only led to him hardening against me, and that only led to my skin flushing as my panties grew damp. Shit! “Braden, this isn’t going to work. I’m not your girlfriend. You said no touchy feely emotional crap.”
He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking. He gazed down at me from under his long lashes, laughing incredulously. “You are not like other women.”
“No,” I answered honestly. “I’m not.” He shifted again, getting comfortable on top of me and I felt the brush of his hard cock teasing me between my legs, my thighs opening involuntarily. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp and Braden’s eyes flashed hungrily. “Stop it,” I breathed.
“Stop what?” he circled his hips again, rubbing against me and causing another spike of heat between my legs.
“Braden.” I pressed my hands against his chest. “Seriously.”
“We’re friends,” he whispered against my mouth. “Friends can ask questions. Now who did you let fuck you?”
Fine. If that’s what he wanted… “Quite a few guys. I don’t remember most of their names.”
He froze, pulling back to study me. I saw the tick in his jaw again. “What the hell does that mean?”
Whoa! Was he angry? I glared at him, my defenses up. “I don’t do relationships, Braden. I told you that. But I like sex and I used to like to party. Alcohol doesn’t make for a loving relationship.”
He was silent a moment as he processed this. In fact he was silent so long I knew what he was thinking. And I felt ugly and worthless. I pushed against his chest again. “You can get off me now.”
But he wouldn’t budge. He shook his head, his expression clearing as his eyes returned to mine. “Four years,” he replied quietly. “You hadn’t had sex for four years. Since you came here I’ll bet. What changed?”
“That’s another question.”
Braden’s expression darkened to something so scary I was finally, truly intimidated. I tensed underneath him, holding my breath as his pale eyes fired ice chips at me. “Did someone hurt you, Jocelyn?”
What? Oh my God… I relaxed as I realized what conclusion he’d drawn. “No.” I reached up and soothed a hand across his cheek, hoping it would erase that look in his eyes. “Braden, no. I don’t want to talk about it, okay,” I explained gently. “But no one hurt me. I was wild. And then I stopped being wild. However, I wasn’t lying last night. I’ve been checked and I’m clean. And anyway, I’m sure you’ve been with a lot more women than I’ve been with guys, and I’m not judging you.”
“I’m not judging you, Jocelyn.”
“Oh you were so judging me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
He sat up, his arm banding around my waist to drag me up with him, and then his other arm came around my waist so I was smooshed up against his hot, naked chest. My palms fluttered uneasily onto his pecs, my eyes wide as he stared down at me with this intense look in his eyes. “I don’t like to share,” he murmured.
He’d said that before. Something twisted in my chest, a mixture of exaltation and unease. “Braden, I’m not yours.”