“I mean it. I’m not sleeping with you.” I’m not going to lie, it pains me to say the words, but it must be done. I’ve had too many—just give us this week—talks with my vagina already.
The waiter returns with his drink and Christopher says he’ll have what I’m having before we’re alone again. He turns his attention back to me, eyes narrowed and thoughtful, the intensity of his gaze at complete odds with the pink, frothy concoction sitting in front of him with a little paper umbrella sticking out.
Nerves skitter across my skin, disconcerting me, and I manage to say, “I’m serious.”
He nods, picks up his drink and sips from the straw, before holding it out to me. “Try it and it will convert you.”
I do, and it’s so good I moan a little. It puts the pi?a coladas I’d been drinking to shame.
He laughs. “See, I told you.”
“Fine, you were right.” I can’t help my grin. He’s just so charming.
“Of course I am.” His wink keeps the words from sounding arrogant.
I roll my eyes and he laughs, good-natured.
Several minutes pass before he tilts his head. “While I was supposed to be busy learning today, I spent far too much time contemplating this situation of ours.”
My spine straightens. “There is no situation.”
“Yes there is. And you can pretend as much as you want, but it doesn’t change it. There is something between us and I for one want to see what it is.”
I open my mouth to speak but he holds up a hand, stopping me.
“I know you have a bunch of arguments, and I want to hear them all, but first let me say this.”
I close my lips and nod.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot. That maybe taking you into a closet and giving you three orgasms two hours after we met might have given you the impression I was only interested in sleeping with you. I understand that. And I accept the consequences of my actions. But here’s what I’m asking. Give me a chance to prove you wrong. Give me the opportunity to learn you. All I want is the opportunity to see if there’s something more than the best sex on the planet between us.”
He takes another drink and his gaze skims over my face and down my body. He should look ridiculous, with his girly cocktail and disarming features, but he doesn’t, he looks sexy, confident and sure.
And it hits me, how long it’s been since I’ve experienced genuine interest in a man. I’ve been going through the motions of sex and attraction for so long I’d failed to realize they no longer resembled anything real. That Christopher is the first man in a long time I’ve actually been attracted to, not just physically, but emotionally. I liked him. When I’m around him I forgot about the game, the thinking, the strategy, and just...enjoyed myself.
Oblivious to my revelation, he continues. “I know you have your plan to be alone, and swear off men, but we’re here and maybe it is fate, and not circumstance that put us thousands of miles away from home at the exact same time and place. Because I’ve been thinking, remembering. And I didn’t tell you when I was going, Ashley, I said I’d be there for a conference, and I was going to tell you the details, but then I got distracted by the heat between your legs, the way you lifted into my fingers and I forgot. Even though your brain recalled the hotel from our conversation, what are the odds we’d be here, at the same exact time?”
I suck in my breath as I recall that moment on the bench, the orgasm that had pulsed through me, stealing my breath. I give my head a little shake. “I don’t know.”
“Not very good.” His gaze dips to my mouth. “So I have a deal for you. I’m willing to prove myself, and here’s what I’ll offer even though it’s going to be a real challenge on my willpower. Give me a chance to spend time with you. You’ll have plenty of time alone to do the things you came here to do, because I’m stuck in this conference. But when I’m free, and if it works with your plans, I want to hang out with you, to get to know you properly. In return, I promise I will keep my hands to myself. I will honor your vow of celibacy and treat you like my best platonic friend. I promise I will not touch, kiss, lick or fuck you.”
His eyes darken and the air crackles between us. “Unless you ask me to, of course. Then I will do all those things and more.”
I gulp, my throat going dry. He’s offering me a way out.
A chance to have my cake and eat it too. And I want it.
The waiter chooses that moment to delivers our meals. He puts the plates down, asking us if we want anything else. When we say no, he takes his leave, and Christopher turns back to me. “Do we have a deal?”
My fingers twitch on my fork. I want my cake. I want to spend time with him. If it’s platonic, is that cheating? I bite my lip.