Page 152 of Toxic Temptation
“I’m not on the pill,” I repeat, panic clawing at my chest. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”
There’s nothing as sobering as reality hitting right after a night of tantric sex with someone completely inappropriate.
I should have known that I couldn’t just do whatever the hell I wanted without immediate consequences.
Who do I think I am—Jeremy Fleming?
He’s looking at me and I feel the need to defend myself. “Stop glaring at me like that. I haven’t had sex in two years. I had no reason to be.” I’m pacing, my hands shaking no matter how hard I try to hold them still. “This is bad. This is really, really bad.”
Kovan sits up, and despite everything, I can’t help but notice how the moonlight cuts across his chest, highlighting every scar, every tattoo, every perfect imperfection.
“What exactly are you worried about?” he asks. “Getting an STD or getting pregnant?”
“Both! Either! Take your pick!”
“I’m clean,” he says simply. “I get tested regularly, and I always use protection.”
I gesture wildly between us. “Except for tonight, apparently!”
“Yeah. Tonight was different.”
Something in his voice makes me stop pacing. “Different how?”
He rakes a hand through his dark hair, looking genuinely rattled for the first time since I’ve known him. “I don’t know. It just was.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got right now.”
The taut silence lingers between us, heavy with things neither of us is brave enough to say.
“How many?” I ask finally.
“How many what?”
“Women. You said there were too many to count.”
He looks away. “There were, once upon a time. But not recently. You’re the first woman I’ve been with since Vitalii died.”
“That was over a year ago.”
“Yeah.”
“So you haven’t?—”
“No.”
That confession startles me. I don’t know what to do with it, so I focus on the practical problem instead.
“I need to get Plan B,” I say.
“We’ll get it once the sun’s up.”
“Okay.” I take a shaky breath. “Okay, that’s something.”
I sink back onto the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me hollow and confused.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For tonight. For listening to me about everything. I just needed?—”
