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That stung her. She glared at him. “Do not lump me in with ‘most women.’ I am not ‘most women,’ thank you very much.”
“You sure aren’t,” he said, after a thoughtful pause. “I’ve never talked about all this stuff with a woman before. Come to think of it, I’ve never talked about it to anyone. At all.”
She was startled at the depth of silence and solitude that admission revealed. “Um, wow. I guess…I should be honored.”
He shrugged. “If you like. I guess it never felt to me like date-type chitchat material. Such a downer. Big conversation stopper.”
“We’ve never had a date, Nick.”
He looked at her sidelong. “We’re having one now, aren’t we?”
“No,” she said loftily. “Going to a wedding is not a date. Going to a wedding is much more demanding, much more public, much more committed. It’s a much,muchbigger deal than a date.”
He nodded. “Yeah, well. That makes sense. You’re a much bigger deal than my other women. Maybe that’s why I can’t pull off the charming conversation routine with you.”
“Oh, really?” She squinted at him. “And what routine is that?”
His grin came and went quickly. “Oh, the usual bullshit men say. I was slick, funny, witty, suave. I would compliment them, on their perfume, their earrings, the way their asses looked in their jeans—”
“Oh, shut up, you dog.” She flapped her hands at him.
“I would ask them how they felt,” he went on. “I even pretended to listen to their answers.”
“Calculating bastard,” she muttered, punching his shoulder.
“I controlled my foul language. I was good at that gentlemanly stuff when I wanted to get laid. Before my life went down the toilet.”
She frowned. “Huh. I certainly haven’t seen any gentlemanly moments. I think you’re a big, grumpy bear. With a potty mouth.”
“I can’t do the charming and suave routine with you,” he said, in a wondering voice. “I just can’t do it.”
“Hmmph,” she sniffed. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. Should I take it as a compliment or an insult?”
She was joking, but he took her question at face value. “I think it’s a compliment,” he said. “I can’t be anything but flat out real with you. Even if what’s real is rude and ugly.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She stared at him.
“And it’s weird, because I never wanted to nail any woman the way I want to nail you,” he went on. “You’d think I could control myself a little better, considering how motivated I am.”
“Oh. Gee. How very romantic.” She started turning pink.
He grabbed her hand, and placed it on the thick, long bulge of his erection. “Don’t be sarcastic,” he said. “I’m baring my soul here. Just look what happens to me when I do that.”
“Your soul or your dick?” She stared down at her hand, rubbing up and down over that hard, hot bulge. Her toes curled up in her sneakers. “This is your natural state. You’re always at the ready.”
He closed her fingers within the hot cage of his fist, rubbing it harder over his unyielding flesh. “No, actually, this is new. I’ve only had this problem since I met you. You’re under my skin. You drive me nuts.”
“Wow. Lovely,” she muttered. “I sound like a bad rash. Here comes Becca. Grab the cortisone cream.”
He let out a crack of laughter. “You do inflame me, that’s for sure. There’s a raging fire in my loins, babe. Only you can put it out.”
She hooted. “Put it out, hah! That’s a joke. It never gets put out. You’re like those trick birthday candles. You blow and blow and…” Her voice trailed off as his grin widened.
“Oh, yeah.” He waggled his eyebrows with cheerful lewdness.
She blushed. “Oh, stop it. That’s not what I meant.”
He looked comically downcast. “It’s not? Aw. Too bad.”
