Page 50 of Pleasure Games

She chuckled softly. “That’s not what I mean.” She took a small bite of bread that took an overly long time to chew. “I mean, I’m not as experienced as you.”

Luca hid his smile. Did she think he didn’t already know that? “Really?” He drank more coffee, watching her. She kept her gaze averted and suddenly Luca had a flash of what she was going to confess.

“Jesus,” he said, putting his coffee cup down. “You’re a virgin.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not.” But the little lines between her arched brows told a different story.

Fuck. How did he feel about that? It was a shock, that was for sure. Yet...his cock twitched at the notion, as if excited by the prospect. Not good. As much as some primal part of him celebrated the idea of being the first man to claim this incredible woman, his logical side kicked in. This was supposed to be a meaningless tryst—just a bit of fucking—only for a couple of days. It wasn’t supposed to be an initiation.

That was too...meaningful.

She slid her hand across the table and covered his. Her fingers trembled and now he understood those tremors. “Jasmine, I don’t think it’s a good idea if we continue—”

“Wait. Don’t say it.” She finally met his gaze, her large brown eyes pleading with him. “I’m not a virgin, but...” She pulled her hand away and made a harsh sound at the back of her throat. “God, it’s so...”

“What?”

“The last man I was with, actually, he was the only man I’ve ever been with. And...”

“And?”

“Well, he...” She paused, and her face contorted in pain.

Oh, fuck. Some shithead had hurt her? This was worse and he should be packing her up and driving her to the train station. Right now. But, instead, he took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. For some odd reason, his gut clenched and his other hand grasped his knife as if he meant to use it as a weapon. “Tell me,” he growled.

“He used me.” She shrugged and tried to turn away.

Luca didn’t let her. “What does that mean?”

“God, Luca. Do I have to say it?”

“Yes.” He ground his teeth.

Jasmine stood up and moved to the sink, turning her back to him. He pushed his chair away and followed her, going to stand right behind her, though he didn’t touch her.

“He pretended to be something he wasn’t. He used me to keep up his facade.”

“And what facade was that?”

She leaned against the counter. “That he was straight.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. Then, with hands placed gently on her shoulders, Luca turned Jasmine to face him. “Are you telling me that the only man you’ve ever been with was gay?”

She bit her lip and nodded her head.

“And this man...” Luca suddenly thought of the ring that he’d tucked in his wallet. “Was he your fiancé?”

She nodded, her lip quivering. “I walked in on him. With his best man.”

Jesus.

Luca gazed down into her tortured eyes. A voice in his head—that sounded suspiciously like François—was telling him this woman was damaged and that he should stay away from her. That continuing any kind of sexual tryst was taking advantage of her vulnerability. But Luca didn’t want to stay away. Fuck, no. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and hold her. He wanted to kiss away the tears that glistened at the corners of her eyes and to tell her that this other man was a salaud, a bastard, for trying to use her. More importantly, he wanted to show her how beautiful she was, how desirable she was, and to teach her the absolute joys of making love to someone who couldn’t contain his lust for her.

So he settled on something somewhere in between those two extremes. He held both sides of her face and leaned down to kiss her softly. Then he backed away and said, “I think it’s time we explore this passion between us, don’t you?”

Her lips trembled when she smiled, and Luca experienced a bizarre combination of tenderness, desire and dread.

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