Her heart dropped as she realized they’d both been so caught up in the moment that the thought of using protection hadn’t even crossed their minds. Micah was upset with himself, and understandably so, but at least she could rid him of his concerns.
Tightening her hand on his arm, she said, “I was checked after I was with Rick. I’m clean of any type of disease, and right before I got sick, I got a ten-year IUD put in. I thought I was going to get married, and I wasn’t planning a family anytime soon.” Actually, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t even sure Rick had even wanted kids. The long-term birth control had been his idea. “I didn’t have it removed. I won’t get pregnant. Trust me. I won’t let you fall,” she said softly, hoping he’d lighten up.
Micah took her by the shoulders and stared down at her. “You think I was worried about that? I want—” He stopped and started again. “I need for you to trust me, Tessa. I’ve never not used a condom, and you know it’s been a while for me, but I don’t do that shit. I don’t forget to use a damn condom. It was a fucking stupid thing for me to do. I’m clean, but what if I wasn’t? Jesus, Tessa! Don’t ever trust a guy who is panting after you to not wear a condom.”
Her mind finally cleared, understanding what he was trying to say in his convoluted explanation. She smiled as she tightened her arms around his neck. “So are you saying I shouldn’t trust you? You’re the only man I’m sleeping with right now.”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I was speaking generally.”
She rubbed her breasts against his chest. “I’m speaking specifically,” she replied. “If I’m only sleeping with you, we’re both clean, and I’m on birth control, can I trust you?”
“Hell, yes, you can trust me. Do you think my dick is really going to get hard for anybody else right now? It’s fucking fixated on you.”
“Then trust me and try it again. I’d kind of like to finish what I started in the shower.”
Her heart raced as she watched his anguished expression. She understood what he meant, that he never wanted her to trust another guy to always tell her the truth. His heavy breath wafted across her cheek as she moved closer to him and she asked, “Do you trust me?”
“You I trust. Other men . . . no, I damn well don’t.”
“I’m not with any other men right now.”
“Thank fuck! And you never will be, so this discussion is unnecessary anyway.”
His mouth crashed down on hers so fast that she never did get to ask him what he meant, and it was quickly forgotten as Micah’s sensual assault to her senses made her forget that anything else but him existed.
CHAPTER 12
Later that evening, Julian ducked into Shamrock’s Pub more out of necessity than because he wanted a beer. Quickly taking a rickety seat by one of the windows, he opened the threadbare curtain and looked out at Main Street, hoping to hell he’d lost his group of adoring fans.
Slumping back in the chair when he didn’t see anybody coming, he pulled off his baseball cap and sunglasses, dropping them onto the table.
“Running from the police?” he heard a sarcastically sweet voice ask from the bar.
He looked up and saw Kristin minding the tavern . . . again. Was anybody else ever here except her? She already had a full-time job in Sarah’s office. Why was she always here?
“Not lately. But you never know,” he shot back halfheartedly, not feeling like arguing with the sharp-tongued redhead tonight.
I’d rather fuck her until she stops talking and starts screaming.
His dick was already at attention just from looking at her. Kristin embodied every physical asset that turned him on. Unlike most guys in Hollywood, the last thing he wanted was a skinny model. He liked women who enjoyed food, and he was a large man. He wanted a curvy female with some flesh on her bones and an ass that he could actually grasp while he was pummeling into her body.
Unfortunately, the woman who haunted his wet dreams obviously hated him. Maybe that was why he wanted her so badly. Not only was Kristin beautiful, but she wasn’t about to drop at his feet and submit. More likely, she’d knee him in the balls and walk away. Maybe he was a masochist, but he kind of liked that about her.
“What are you looking for?” she asked curiously.
“My fan club,” he answered glumly. “Can I have a beer? And no milk. I already ate.”
He watched as she pulled out a frosted mug and brought him whatever they had on tap. Not that he was picky. He could tell by the lightness of the liquid in the glass that it wasn’t a dark, bitter brew, which was the only kind he really didn’t like.
She set the mug down in front of him, placing a napkin underneath.
“You look better,” she observed, reaching out to turn his face toward her.
“I’m a fast healer,” he answered flatly, letting her examine his features. Her touch was impersonal but light and soft, so he let her check him out as long as she wanted.
Unfortunately, she dropped her hand almost immediately, and he was kind of disappointed. “Not busy tonight?”
The joint was empty except for him. He seemed to be the only customer.
She shrugged and crossed her arms in front of her. “It’s late, and it’s after Labor Day. The town gets quiet during the off-season. You missed the crowd. There must have been six or seven people here earlier,” she informed him sarcastically.
Julian smirked, amused that she could throw out those kinds of comments with a perfectly straight face.