Twice.
Rapidly.
Then I whispered, “Seriously?”
“Yep,” he said bluntly, like badasses confessed to the new women in their lives every day that they’d been celibate for years when I was stunned badasses could actually go for years without having sex.
I lifted my head to look at him and when I did, he tipped his chin down to catch my gaze.
“You haven’t had sex in seven years?” That was uttered incredulously, as, of course, it would be.
“Fuckin’ you on the table was hot but I came fast. Man gets it regular, he does not come that fast, even as hot as that was.”
I didn’t have that much experience but I figured this was true.
“Might not go to the doctor regularly,” he continued. “But back then I knew I was clean and you can’t catch that shit airborne.”
That I knew was true.
“I…well, it would seem you got a lot of experience in in a short period of time,” I noted.
He said nothing mostly because, with the number of partners he’d had, there was nothing to say but confirm.
“Then nothing for seven years?” I pressed.
“I think you get I fucked around a lot,” he replied.
I nodded because I definitely got that.
“Searchin’ for something,” he went on. “Doin’ that, found, if it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. Meaningless fucks are just that and I don’t do a lot that’s meaningless, definitely not something important like connecting with a woman’s body. Also found it’s not hard to go without when going with doesn’t work for me.”
“But…you’re a badass,” I pointed out.
“And?” he prompted, brows drawing together, apparently well aware he was a badass.
“Badasses need to get them some,” I explained.
“Badasses know what they want, definitely know what they need, and don’t settle for anything less.”
That was probably very true.
It was also a really good answer.
I slid my fingers back to play with the ends of his hair and my voice was soft when I asked, “It really doesn’t work for you if it has no meaning?”
“Biologically, anything would work. Pussy is pussy,” he stated baldly. “You drive your dick into it, close your eyes, you’ll get off. But sex isn’t about that. It shouldn’t be about that for anybody. It doesn’t have to be about emotion, but it has to be about something. If I don’t respect the woman attached to the pussy I’m fucking, can’t look in her eyes and be all about that with her, not just all about the moment I get off, it’s pointless. And there’s no point to doing something pointless.”
He was right about that too.
“Agreed,” I said quietly.
“Add emotion,” he went on, his thumb now stroking my throat. “That’s where it’s at.”
Now he couldn’t be more right.
That was where it was at.
“Yes,” I agreed.