that.”
“No, of course not. And, yes, I’ve dated a handful of people in Washington, but nothing ever got to the point of being serious.” I shrug and take another bite of my dinner.
“You haven’t been intimate with a man you dated?”
I choke when the piece of steak lodges in my throat, and I have to swallow hard to get it down. I cough and reach for my glass, using the wine to wash it all the way down before either Garrin or someone else has to give me the Heimlich Maneuver.
“I am not discussing my sex life with you, Garrin.” He’d be lost unless he’s up to date on his sex toy catalog.
His nostrils flare when the word sex leaves my lips, and a weird energy wraps around the table. The same tension that filled the elevator that night at Titans’ Tower.
“Why not? We’re getting reacquainted with each other, right?” He grins in a boyish way that softens the hard features of his face, reminding me more of the boy I used to daydream about than I’ve seen since I returned.
I twirl my wineglass by the stem. “Okay, but a warning. I tell, you tell?”
He nods.
“Yes, I have slept with other men, not many. But it took me a long time to get to the point where I was willing to do so, and I could never get out of my head enough to really enjoy it.”
If he’s surprised by my admission, he hides it well. He’s back to having features made of stone.
“How unfortunate.”
His response feels mocking, though I can’t tell if he means it to or not. I push back his judgment, although a bitterness like I walked into his trap puts a protective layer around me.
“I’m sure you’ve enjoyed quite the healthy dating life. There’s nothing women flock to more than a gorgeous billionaire.” I give him a little attitude back.
He lifts his glass to his lips again and studies me for a moment before placing it back on the table. I continue to eat as if I could care less.
“You aren’t wrong. But I prefer to pay for the time of the women I keep company with. It ensures they leave afterward.”
I pause with my fork halfway up to my mouth. Did Garrin just admit that he’s paying for sex?
I lean in across the table. “You hire hookers?” I whisper as if I’m some scandalized southern debutante. I’ve spent nearly a decade in Washington. The mention of prostitutes should not alarm me.
He lifts his strong shoulder in a shrug. “I prefer to think of them as paid companions, but you can call them what you want.”
Wow. There really is no bullshitting with this man. What you see is what you get.
Weirdly, I like it. In fact, I prefer truth even if the truth isn’t pretty.
“You’ve never had a… normal relationship with a woman?”
“So far no one has intrigued me enough to make me want one. I enjoy my arrangements at the moment. I have someone to attend social functions with, she does what I want when we fuck, and she leaves without expecting anything except to be paid.”
The word fuck leaving Garrin’s lips causes heat to pool between my thighs.
It’s not the first time I’ve thought about Garrin in bed. I wondered in high school, but that was more about if he was experienced or not—if we ever got there, would I be embarrassed to be the novice and him an expert? Now, I’m sure he’s like a professional in the act of getting a woman off. Or maybe if he’s hiring hookers, he doesn’t bother pleasing them. Maybe he just has them please him.
The thought of him receiving a blow job startles me. I drop my cutlery on the table.
I haven’t had a thought like that about a man in… forever. Usually I’m forcing myself to list the reasons why I should be attracted to a man to try and get myself over the hump of wanting to be intimate with him.
“I’m not really sure what to say about that.” My hand shakes as I reach for my wineglass.
Garrin finishes chewing and levels me with a stare. “I suspect we’re somewhat alike in the fact that we don’t allow anyone else to get too close to us.”
I clear my throat. “I suspect we are.”
We eat in silence for a few more minutes, and for the first time since this dinner started, there’s an awkwardness between us. I can’t stop picturing him in bed with a