He shrugs again. "I dunno. I didn't tell her."
"She probably would have kicked you out of the experiment if she knew."
"Too late now. Here we are."
I want to kick him. "Here we are?" I repeat. "What about the tests? How do I know you're clean now?"
His voice rises defensively. "I don't have any diseases. I was tested two weeks ago. Again. And I always wear protection."
I twirl my finger around in the air. "Oh, yay!" I say sarcastically.
"So when's the last time you did, Miss Perfect?"
"Did what?"
"Had sex with someone."
Shit. I don't want to tell him the truth about that now, or he'll think I'm a freak for sure. "That's none of your business, but it was definitely not a month ago. I followed all the rules."
He twirls his finger in the air, mocking me. "Yay for you. So tell me when."
"No."
His lips curve into a slightly evil smile. "Tell me or I'll tickle you."
I shake my head. "No. It was longer than three months; that's all you need to know."
Before I can move, he lunges at me and starts tickling my sides, sending me into a fit of giggles. I am wickedly ticklish. I can't believe he's figured it out in less than a day and has used it twice now to break me. I grab at his hands. "Stop! Please!" I beg, laughing uncontrollably. He completely overpowers me with his size and muscle and pulls me onto the floor, kneeling over me, holding my hands in his at my sides.
"You can't tickle me every time you want to get your way," I exclaim, trying to catch my breath.
His hair falls down over his face as he smiles down at me. "Yes, I can." Even though he's straddling me, it doesn't go unnoticed that he's careful not to crush me. It also doesn't go unnoticed that his muscular thighs around my body put me in a position where I can't ignore the thick bulge evident beneath the thin faded jeans he's got on. Hot damn.
"Tell me," he prods again, still holding my hands.
"It's been a long time." I divert my gaze from his package and stare up into his face instead.
"How long?"