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Page 14
Page 14
She harrumphed, wiped her mouth with her napkin and picked up her fork again.
“So…” he said pensively, “back to the topic at hand. You don’t care for sex. Is it just the penetration part or all parts?”
“You’re incorrigible.”
Her chest heaved as she released another exasperated sigh, drawing his gaze to her br**sts. They were smaller than he usually liked, just a gentle swell of cle**age peeking out of the bodice of her dress, but something about those perky little mounds made his mouth water.
Lord, he wanted to f**k her. Getting to know her better had been the number one item on his agenda, but now that was joined by a hefty dose of desire. He wanted her naked. Naked and moaning while he thrust into her and drove her mindless with passion.
“And it’s all parts of it.”
Her voice brought him back to the present. To the table where they were both seated, fully clothed.
Mia chewed quickly, then went on. “The intercourse part, the oral, the kissing—it’s all boring to me.”
“Really, even the kissing?” he said in surprise.
“Yep. I don’t know if I’m the bad kisser in the equation, or if the guys I’ve made out with have just been abysmal at it, but make-out sessions have never really done it for me.” She offered a knowing look. “You must think I’m a total prude, huh?”
“Nope. I think you’re the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met.”
“Clearly you don’t get out much either.” She rolled her eyes. “Now enough about sex. Let’s talk about less stressful things. Tell me how you became a SEAL.”
Two hours later, Mia had to face the indisputable truth—she liked Jackson Ramsey.
Not once during the entire dinner had they run out of things to talk about. In fact, the conversation had flowed so smoothly that not only had they stayed for dessert, they were now lingering on their second cup of post-dessert coffee.
It was ridiculously hard not to like this man. He was smart, charming, funny, down-to-earth. He listened when she spoke, laughed at her dumb jokes, was interested in her job. And she’d discovered in the course of their date that he wasn’t just a soldier, he was also the medic on his SEAL team, which meant he was extra good at saving lives.
Oh, and his c**k may or may not be pierced. Don’t forget that part.
Right, who could forget that…
The strangest thing about the date was the way it made her feel. Or more specifically, the way Jackson turned her on. The pull of attraction was so strong her entire body had felt hot and achy from moment one. Every time Jackson opened his sexy mouth, her heart began to race. And whenever her gaze strayed to his chest, hugged by a snug black T-shirt, her palms went damp. And each time she looked into his sultry brown eyes, she utterly melted.
It didn’t help that he kept looking at her like he wanted her naked. The man had mastered seductive gazes to a T, and knowing he was undressing her with his eyes only caused her to mentally undress him—and that particular mental picture was so hot she was liable to burst into flames any second.
By the time Jackson paid the bill and helped her out of her chair, Mia was ready to flee. She couldn’t get caught in the spell he was attempting to cast on her. As wonderful as he was, seeing him again wasn’t an option.
But clearly her date had other ideas.
“So, when can I see you again?”
Mia stifled a groan and walked through the door he held open for her. When they stepped outside, the late-evening breeze snaked beneath her hair and cooled her warm cheeks.
“Jackson…” He was so tall she had to peer up at him to meet his eyes. “I had a good time. Seriously, I did. But this doesn’t change anything. I’m still swamped with work and taking care of Danny. I don’t have a lot of free time.”
“I’ll take whatever you can give me,” he replied in a cheerful voice. “One dinner a week, lunch every other week, I don’t care, darlin’. I just want to keep seein’ you.”
For Pete’s sake. The man truly was tenacious. She’d told him that she was pretty much a single mother, confessed her indifference to sex, and he still wanted to see her again?
“I’m not looking for a relationship,” she said feebly. “Or a fling.”
“I know that.”
“Then what’s the point? Why bother spending more time together if it won’t go anywhere?”
“Because I want to. Because you want to.”
She fiddled with the little brown pocketbook she was using as a purse, snapping it open to retrieve her keys. “It won’t work. I’ve got too much on my plate to commit to anything more. And besides, I feel bad getting your hopes up about, you know, potentially getting jiggy, because it probably won’t happen.”
“Why, ’cause you think you won’t like it?”
Because I know I won’t.
She bit back the words before they could slip out. Truth was, she’d completely underplayed the whole sex thing during their discussion earlier. She found sex so boring and unsatisfying that she’d even raised the subject with her old therapist. For a long while she’d thought there might be something wrong with her, like maybe she was an asexual weirdo who’d never be able to function like a normal sexual being, yet the fact that she could give herself wild, breathless orgasms without any trouble contradicted that.
She was just so apprehensive about getting intimate with anyone again. She’d slept with four men in her life, and each encounter had been more disappointing than the last.