Page 42 of Snow Harm, No Foul

“Not even casually?”

“I’ve been so focused on this bar that I haven’t put effort into it. Even casually.”

“You’ve slept with women, though. Like, one-night stands. Surely, I haven’t been your only one.”

“Spent a lot of time with my dick in my hand, angel. Never cared much for a quick fuck. Not before you. And even then, I wanted far more than somethin’ quick.”

I gave that shit up a long time ago. It’s usually more effort than it’s worth. The risk of an awkward encounter in this town, especially in this bar after sleeping with the wrong woman, has kept me pretty damn celibate over the past decade.

Ivy blinks at me, disbelief burning in her eyes. “You’re being straight with me? Completely?”

“I give you my word. Before you, I hadn’t slept with anyone in a real long time,” I confirm.

“Wow.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ Casanova.”

“Maybe not. But you’re incredibly good-looking and successful. That has to draw plenty of women in your direction.”

“I’ve never cared much for attention.”

She blows a raspberry. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Should I be offended?”

“What? No!” She balks, scrunching her nose. “I just, I mean, I’ve slept with a few guys after Travis. Rebounds, you know? Especially after everything that led to the breakup, I wanted to know I wasn’t some hideous monster and could feel attractive. Even to a stranger. It didn’t ever mean anything more than sex, but . . .”

“What you did before you came into this bar three weeks doesn’t matter. You’re not goin’ to be sleepin’ with anyone but me from now on, so at least they got a taste before I took you as mine,” I grunt.

“You know when we were having sex and I . . .” She trails off nervously, ducking her head.

“When you squirted all over my cock, angel?” I guess.

“Oh, my god. Is that what that was? I’ve never done that before.”

“Mm. Damn right it was. Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Took everythin’ in me not to work for more.”

Her eyes soften, some of her shyness fading. “You’re just a bit too good to be true.”

“Been thinkin’ that about you for months.”

“For months,” she echoes, nuzzling her cheek against me. “That’s still hard for me to believe.”

“Which part? That I was wantin’ my son’s girl or that I finally got you in the end?”

“All of it.”

“Wouldn’t change a thing now that we’re here,” I declare.

“I would. Even just coming back sooner after the last time could have made a big difference. Three weeks is a lot of wasted time.”

“Not compared to the next few decades.”

“Your confidence in us is admirable.”

“Maybe.”

“I like it. It’s comforting. A reminder that I’m not in this all by myself.”

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