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I take a bite, savoring the flavor and taking the opportunity to think about how I should play things. In the interests of the article, I need everyone to remain as open as possible. Nothing that happens under this roof should be a secret. Asking each of the men to keep selective secrets will only stifle honesty across the board. As much as it’s awkward to discuss my sex life openly, it’s the only way to ensure I can write something that will meet Kirsty’s brief.
“So, I guess Stefan filled you all in?” I raise my brows and tip my head to the side, waiting for a response.
“Stefan’s a gentleman.” It’s sweet that Oliver steps in to defend his friend so quickly.
When I meet Stefan’s gaze, he nods once to affirm he has indeed kept our interaction to himself.
“That’s sweet,” I say. “But not necessary. We’re here to discuss things openly and that has to include anything that happens under this roof.”
“Thank the lord.” Jimmy stands, shoving his chair back with his legs and resting his palms flat on the table. He’s sitting directly opposite Stefan so he can stare him down, expectantly. “Spill the beans, dude.”
“Why don’t we let Allie talk about her experience?” Theron says. “I’d like to hear her perspective. How was your first experience of sex, and do you think Stefan’s size had a positive or a negative impact?”
“I think we should swap places and you should write the article,” I laugh. Theron nods, happy to be complimented. “The experience was amazing,” I add quickly. “Stefan is a great lover and his size definitely had a positive impact.”
“And do you think that it’s size or how he used it?” Theron asks.
Jimmy, who has taken his seat again, nudges Theron. “Why? You worried you won’t be able to live up to Stefan?”
“No.”
There’s a rumble of laughter in the group as Theron puffs out his chest defiantly.
“It’s not a competition.” I take another bite of food and chew around my smile. Of course it’s a competition. These are men and we’re talking about sex. As if it could be about anything else. The thought that there are currently nine men worrying about how they’re going to make sex with me explosive has a heat aching between my legs and a smile dancing on my lips.
“Who’s next?” Stefan asks, waving his fork around the group. There’s no smugness about him because he knows who he is and what he’s capable of. The extra years he has on some of the men here give him maturity, which is so sexy.
“Me.” Carson leans back in his chair and stretches his arms over his head. “Although, I’m not sure Allie will be ready for me anytime soon.”
“Oh, I’m ready.” Competitive Allie raises her head before the rest of me has a chance to assess the sense in what I’m saying. Could I really take Carson so soon after Stefan? I can still feel the echo of him inside me. Does that mean I’m sore? Should I insist on waiting until tomorrow?
I do the math, and there are nine more men and only five more days. Two a day, at least. Or more if I want to get through them all and have time to formulate more questions for the article.
A true journalist, my internal voice whispers with a deep sarcasm. I can pretend all I like that I’m in this proposal for investigative purposes, but the truth is it’s all about personal exploration and the desire for pleasure.
If I can have some of what Dawn has within this contained environment, and walk away a changed woman at the end, everything will be better. I can go back to my job and deal with the lack of work satisfaction because I’ll know satisfaction in my sex life.
Yes, there will still be things missing. Emotional stability. Love, even.
But I’m a big believer in dealing with one thing at a time.
Compartmentalization is king.
A rumble of approval meets my confident assertion, and Clay slaps his friend on the back like a best man congratulating the groom at a wedding. The honeymoon is imminent. Except it’s nothing romantic.
A shiver of anticipation sets the hairs on my arms raising. Carson is gorgeous. When his piercing blue eyes meet mine, they’re so intense I have to look away. Just the thought of seeing him naked is enough to ruin my panties. All that ink covering his body, the fierce expressions of gods and heroes long discarded and dead, cling to his aura. Outward appearances make Carson seem more dangerous. His height. His sheer bulk.
But there’s also a creativity about him, present in his art and his interest in ancient history.
And a vulnerability, too.
“Eat up,” Clay says.
Carson reaches out and grabs his beer, taking a long drink, his throat moving thirstily, and there’s something about the action that makes me wonder if he’s nervous. I guess it’s natural, even with experience. I’m someone new. Someone he doesn’t know that well.
And there are nine other men waiting to hear about how he does.
I’m glad Stefan was first because he was confident and experienced. He handled me with the expertise of a man who’s had years to become comfortable in his own skin. Now, with Carson, I feel like I’ll have a part to play in settling his nerves.
