Page 79 of Javier

“Explore or experiment?” The heat went straight to my head.

“Yes,” she continued, unabashed. “They’re willing. A friendly hookup would be nice. Perhaps a little sex coaching togive me a few pointers would do me good. That way, I can give pleasure instead of taking it from someone who thinks of it as doing his job.”

Ah, fuck. “You weren’t a job for me last night.”

“Then what was it?” When I didn’t answer, she came to her own conclusion. “Was it duty or charity?”

I tightened my fists and fought really hard not to blow my top.

“Never mind.” She waved a languid hand in the air. “Don’t answer that. My father taught me with his behavior that men cannot be trusted.”

“I’m not your—”

“But you’re a guy and you’ve been very clear about your… um… female preferences,” she said, cutting me off. “I get that’s not me. So, right now, I only want one thing. I want to have sex, preferably good sex.” She defied me with a lift of her eyebrows. “Does that shock you?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” I said. “There are safe ways of—”

“If you’re about to give me the sex safety talk, stop.” Her eyes gleamed with orange fire. “I’mnota freaking child and, I repeat, you’re not my goddamn father. I’m a nurse and smart enough to handle the details. I’m prepared, so fuck off.”

She was prepared. I wanted to stab myself. Her actions were cool, calculated, and premeditated, and they included my heart’s slow and painful death.

“At this point, I’m just looking for a good time,” she continued, oblivious to the pain crushing my chest. “All I want is the kind of no-attachment fuck fests you enjoy so frequently. Why can’t I do the same?”

“Angel, please.” I swallowed a growl. “You’re different from me.”

“How?” she demanded.

“You’re kind, caring, and sensitive—”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like you are,” I said. “You’re also thoughtful, deliberate, conscientious—”

“Stop it with the bullcrap, will you?” She crossed her arms and glowered. “The main difference between you and me is that you’re a man and I’m a woman.”

“Well, yes, that’s one difference, but there’s more,” I tried to explain. “Your world has always been small. You grew up protected from everything. Those weasels who bought you those pretty things are in it for the thrill of the hunt, and you’re encouraging them.”

“Stop talking to me like this,” she demanded.

“Like how?”

“Condescending, as if I’m dumb.” She notched her chin higher. “Patronizing, as if you were my father.”

“I’m not—” The gods help me, the last thing I wanted to hear from her is that I reminded her of her prick of a father—three times in one shitty conversation. “I’m trying to keep you safe. I don’t fuck around when I’m doing my job.”

“Your job. That’s me.” She placed her hand on the bare skin of her chest. “Am I right?”

“Yes.” I fought an impulse to tell her to forget all that shit, take her in my arms, and kiss her until our mouths fused together. Instead, I thought of a different angle. “I’m doing my job while the moon is rising and you’re getting into character.”

She wrinkled her nose as if she smelled a stench. “What do you mean with this ‘getting into character’ stuff?”

“Mina says—”

“Who the heck is Mina?” she asked sharply.

“Our cyber-hunter-in-chief.” I kept going on a course that was suicidal for my feelings but necessary if I was gonna stick to my guns. “Mina told me that you’re named after Artemis,the Greek goddess of the moon, the hunt, the wilderness, and chastity, no less.”

She whipped her chin even higher in the air. “Yeah, so?”

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