Page 45 of Penalty Kick

“And you left university?”

“Yup. And then…I don’t want to say that life got in the way, but…it just wasn’t a priority. Sex just…didn’t seem necessary. Like I said, I could take care of things on my own. And I hadn’t met anyone who made me feel like I was missing out. The longer I held on to it, the more it became a point of pride. That I wasn’t going to do it just because.”

Dash nodded. He’d known from the moment he’d met Talia that she valued her independence—that she was her own person. Her strong will had shown through on a number of occasions. It was just one of the many things he liked about her. It made sense that her sex life—oh, well, lack thereof—was something she owned fully. She was in charge and she wasn’t going to let anyone else influence that.

Shifting again, his dick still as hard as it was at the beginning of the conversation, Dash tried to find the words to express everything he wanted to tell her. And maybe find the will power to calm his dick down. She was never going to believe that he was interested in more than sex with an erection like this. He desperately wanted her to know though. So he was just going to have to deal.

“Talia, I like you. A lot. In case that was not clear,” he started. “And I like all of you. You are beautiful, and sí, I want to sleep with you, as Liam puts it. I do not know why sleeping is the term used in English, since there is certainly no sleeping involved, but hey.” He shrugged, earning him a laugh. “But that is not all I am interested in. I want to spend time with you, learn about you. I hope you want to learn about me. I am not just in this for the kisses.”

“I do like the kisses though.”

“As do I. You have no idea. I simply want you to know, that I am still in this. Whatever this is. You are in charge; you can set the pace. And whenever you are ready, I will be here.”

Dash exhaled a long, heavy breath. The words had rushed out of him faster than he had anticipated, his pulse still charging along like a racehorse. He hoped Talia knew he was serious. That he really was in this for all the right reasons, and that how fast, or slow, they moved in the physical department didn’t matter to him.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Because I want you.”

* * *

“But you do not trust me.”

Talia winced at Dash’s response. She hated that he thought that. True, a few weeks ago it was a very different story. Doubt worked its way in here and there—like Jessica Rabbit earlier—but she’d seen a new side to him recently. Gotten to know a totally different person, one that she really liked. One that she was incredibly attracted to. On many levels.

“No, I do. I trust you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have brought you back here to curl up and watch a movie, much less let you in my pants."

Dash cocked his head to the side, shrugging one shoulder, agreeing with her point.

“But, this is a thing, you know?” she continued. “And I—”

“You need to be sure, Talia,” he interjected. “You are right, it is a thing. A big thing. I will be honored to be your first. But that does not have to be tonight. Or tomorrow. It can be next week, next year, next decade.”

“You’re going to wait a decade to sleep with me?”

“I would prefer it not take that long, but…” he trailed off, finishing his response with an overexaggerated shrug. “I meant what I said. Whenever you are ready, I will be here.”

Talia looked deep into Dash’s eyes, her insides starting to melt. Where had he come from? It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who had stolen a kiss from her back at the auction. The day after he’d kissed—err, almost kissed—her roommate. The guy who had been the very catalyst of Gunnar’s overused warning of “football players are bad news.” But it was.

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

“It is a part of you, Bonita. And same as you have accepted all the parts of me, I accept all the parts of you.”

Gah, he was killing her. It was just one perfect line right after the other. How she wasn’t a puddle on the floor, she had no idea. Although, if she tried to stand right about now, her knees were likely to give out. She needed to change the subject to something that wouldn’t let him be this swoony.

“Think we could pick a different nickname though?”

“What is wrong with Bonita?”

“I dunno…it’s…I just don’t feel like it fits?”

“What would you prefer? Something more American? Like, baby?” he teased, giving her a wink. The simple flutter of his eyelid made her giddy all over again, her post-orgasm high resurfacing.

“Definitely not. Because nobody puts Baby in a corner,” she said, trying to do her best Swayze impression.

“Why would anyone be putting you in a corner?”